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God, she was a handful.
“You’ve got that right.”
Okay, maybe I was only giving her shit, but the truth was, I couldn’t imagine anyone on this earth being good enough for her. Couldn’t imagine anyone who would take care of her the way I did.
Had nearly lost my life three times because of her, and I’d gladly do it all over again. She didn’t need to know that, though.
“How’d it go tonight?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Good, but you might have a little surprise in your bed.” She arched a telling brow. “He couldn’t be swayed.”
Pained affection pulled tight across my chest. “I better head up, then.” I pushed off the counter, moved to my sister, and pecked a kiss to her temple. “Don’t stay up too late.”
She punted me a knowing grin as she peeked up at me.
Yeah, I’d likely never stop looking at her as a child. To me? She’d forever be that nine-year-old little girl who I’d run away with in my arms and had never fuckin’ looked back.
“I think I can set my own bedtime, River.”
“I know, Raven. I know. Thanks for being here for me. For giving up your night.”
“Always,” she told me, her loyalty just as thick as mine.
“Night.” I turned on my heel and headed through the greatroom that was attached to the kitchen. There was a sweeping staircase off to the side of it to the right of the front door. I took them quickly and quietly. Hitting the loft, I turned right down the long hallway to my double doors at the end. I nudged open the one that was sitting partially cracked.
A light glowed from the bathroom, casting a wedge of it across my king bed that was done in a thick, black, velvet comforter.
He was nothing but a tiny bump beneath it, on his side and curled around a stuffed lion that was nearly as big as him. I crept forward, and I gazed down at the child as I ran my knuckles across his plump cheek, my heart a fucking bleeding rock in the middle of my chest.
My little dude refused to sleep in his own bed when I wasn’t there, sneaking in here to be sure I got home safe.
Guess he had a whole ton of that caretaker in him, too.
I just prayed life would never carve him the same way as it’d done me. That he’d never know violence. That he’d never have to sink into the corrupt in order to survive. That he would find his way into the happiness he deserved.
The last thing I’d ever want was for him to dip his fingers into the wickedness the way I had, and that he’d never come to thirst for the sweet taste of vengeance.
I made a silent promise that he would never have to.
Because I would always be all those things for him.
FIVE
CHARLEIGH
It wasfive minutes to five when I placed the chart from my last patient into the file cabinet, in alphabetical order, of course. The doctor I worked for was a bit old school, insisting that he still have physical copies of his charts, though we still had them updated electronically to comply with state medical record requirements.
The guy was close to seventy-five, and I was pretty sure he only conformed because he’d been forced into it, and he’d held out as long as he could.
But he was a good doctor. Cared. Took time with each of his patients. So, I didn’t mind taking that extra step for him.
“I can’t believe he still makes you do that.”
I glanced over at Dr. Lingham where she was tapping something into her laptop as she strolled through the back office. She shot me a grin from the corner of her eye. Dr. Lingham was at least forty years younger than Dr. Reynolds, her ways a world apart, but their two styles complemented the other, and it made the small practice one of the busiest in the area.
“He says he doesn’t want anything to do with one of those newfangled things.” A playful smile edged my mouth as I gestured at her laptop.
“I guess he gets along just fine, doesn’t he? Hell, half the time he’s running circles around me,” she mumbled, balancing her laptop on one forearm while she typed with the other hand, her eyes jumping between me and whatever she was inputting.
