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“You really want to leave that badly?” I ask her, cupping her face with my hand.
Her eyes water as she nods. “Everything I have built has crumbled down. I’m no longer Angel, who works at The Range and makes men pay for what they want. They took it. I don’t know how to get back to where I was, or how to stop it from happening again. Every time I close my eyes, I feel them—it plays on repeat. I let them take it, and I could have fought harder, but in the end I was so scared I closed my eyes and accepted it.”
I know she is hurting because of what she has been through, and she has had no one else to lean on besides her grandma and Jordyn—especially men. Some might think we are acting like assholes by forcing her to stay where she doesn’t want to be. But the thing is, she runs because she is scared, not because she wants to leave. The walls she has hidden behind her entire life have crumbled, leaving her raw and open. Harper Daniels doesn’t know who she truly is, and this will not be easy for her.
Everything inside me breaks for her. While I wish I could set her free so she can find herself, I can’t. However, what I can do is make sure if it happens again, if someone is stupid enough to harm my woman, she doesn’t freeze. She will fight like she did when she protected Jordyn.
“You have us now, and we won’t let anyone hurt you.”
The look in her eyes crushes my soul. “I thought I had you then, Cian. You’d already claimed me, yet you all were busy.” She lowers her voice. “You’re in the Mafia or something, right?”
Darragh snorts. “Or something.”
I turn my head and pin him with a look which screams, shut the fuck up or leave. “So what if we are? If we knew you were in danger because of those Italian fuckers . . .”
Harper sighs. “It doesn’t matter whose fault it was—it happened, and there is no taking it back. I refuse to be a naïve little girl anymore who thought fucking men for money would keep me safe. I have to watch my own back.”
“I’ll teach you,” Darragh says.
My mouth falls open, but no words come out.
Harper narrows her eyes; she is as suspicious as I am. “Why would you do it? You hate me.”
Darragh rolls his eyes. “If I hated you, you’d be dead. My daughters are also in the house. If I teach you to defend yourself, would you protect them?”
“I would protect them already, but I think you know that. But why you and not Sullivan, Cian, or Ronan?”
“That’s easy. They all like to fuck you, so they’ll go easy on you. I will properly teach you all the ways to protect yourself if you can’t run to safety.”
Harper thinks about it for a second and the room is quiet. “I would like that, thank you.”
Darragh nods, and I smirk at him, causing him to flip me off. I knew he didn’t hate her as much as he made out.
A nurse walks in, pushing a wheelchair. “Your chariot awaits, Mr. O’Brien.”
Harper slips out of the bed, while Darragh and the nurse help me transfer into the wheelchair. I could have done it myself, considering the cast only goes up to my knee, but I enjoy being waited on. Harper slips her heels back on and Darragh moves behind the wheelchair.
“Make sure you take it easy, doctor’s orders. No more jumping from moving vehicles. You are lucky you didn’t have any more serious injuries.”
“I’m like a cat,” I say, beaming up at the nurse with a smile. “I have nine lives.”
Darragh laughs from behind me. “I think you’re down to five now.”
Darragh moves the wheelchair out of the room, and the second we hit the hallway, I know what he is going to do—it’s why we are best friends. He takes off running.
“For fuck’s sake!” Harper calls out, and the distinct sound of her heels clicking against the floor lets me know she is following fast behind us.
Why did I agree to cook for them? I can’t cook for shit. And why steak? I should just admit defeat right now.
Cian, Darragh, and the girls are watching Encanto; I can hear Cian singing the “No One Talks About Bruno” song at the top of his lungs.
“Hey, Love,” Sullivan says, striding into the kitchen. He looks around and is probably wondering why I haven’t started cooking. “Is everything okay?”
“No, I should never have offered to cook. I barely know how. And steak—everyone eats it differently. I’m an idiot. It’s why I could never be someone’s girlfriend. Who doesn’t know how to cook? Ask me about sex—I know all about that.”
The deep rumble erupting in his chest has me slapping him, and he grabs my wrist, pulling my body into his. “Anytime you want to teach me sex stuff, just say the word. None of us wants to push you right now, not until you’re ready. But steak, I can do.”
Sullivan pulls out two aprons and throws one at me. I can’t help but laugh when he turns around and his apron has the body of a naked woman on the front. “Nice tits.”
