Page 74 of Booked for Murder

“Don’t tell your mother that. She might kill you, especially now that she has Jezabella. She can afford to lose the mouthy son foolish enough to say she weighs more than a younger woman.”

Bradley laughed. “She loves me too much to kill me, and Jez would cry.”

“From laughter over your demise.”

“I’m not sure if you’re grumpy you were in the hospital, grumpy because of the painkillers, grumpy you’re being disrupted, or grumpy because you’re stuck with me for at least two weeks, but I had no idea you could be this much fun when grumpy.”

“Did you hit your head?” I cast an accusatory look Ren’s way. “Did you let him hit his head?”

“He didn’t hit his head. He’s just got a dose of what it’s like to be a bodyguard with the body in a less than ideal condition, and he doesn’t find the situation to his liking.”

I considered that, comparing it to the times Bradley had been ill or he’d gotten into a scrape I’d barely been able to get him out of intact. The accident took the cake of those times, and I hoped my less-than-helpful memories stayed away for a while. Coping with the few new ones my psyche had provided tested my nerves, especially as I couldn’t be certain what was reality and what wasn’t.

Asking would clarify things for me, but the possible answers terrified me more than the unknown.

He had rules he should have followed, too—ones that made me as unobtainable for him as he was for me. When I’d signed the contract, I’d done the math.

Most for life contractors reached their life expectancy no later than forty.

Adepts created trouble wherever they went, and the for life contractors ultimately paid the price for it.

I had been a hell of a lot younger than forty, although I’d defied the odds with my survival. Once I found somewhere quiet and alone, I’d put some serious thought into the circumstances leading up to being carted to the Hamptons. Until then, I’d do my best to ignore the entire situation. “The first time he caught the flu, I thought I would have a heart attack,” I confessed.

“At least he had the flu for you. He had a minor cold, and I thought I’d have a stroke to go with my heart attack.”

“And they expect you to work when you’re trying to convince yourself you won’t actually have a heart attack.”

“I found that part of things to be completely unfair, personally.” Ren snorted. “He sprained his ankle once on me. At that point, I was almost getting used to the idea he’s a danger to himself on a bad day.”

“That’s the worst. He has a history of tripping over nothing. He probably just wanted attention.”

“Why are you two ganging up on me? I sprained my ankle once, Ren. Don’t give her incorrect ideas about my conduct.”

“You also sprained your wrist twice, then there was that incident where you got your finger stuck in the door. The worst part about that? You were trying to be courteous. You broke your finger, you had to get some reconstructive work done on that finger, and you’re lucky you didn’t get permanent damage.”

I shuddered at the thought of Bradley’s finger getting stuck in a door. “Please tell me it wasn’t one of those heavy steel monstrosities they put on public bathrooms sometimes.”

“It was one of those,” Ren confirmed.

“You’re banned from public bathrooms for life,” I announced.

“Funny, Janette.”

“What? Those things are terrifying.” I shuddered. “I’m banning myself from public bathrooms for life now. You got your finger stuck in one?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t one of my better moments. It turns out those doors are awful, and once your finger gets stuck in one, they have to remove it from the hinges to prevent extra damage to your finger. It hurt like fucking hell, too.”

Yep. I would have freaked, and I couldn’t blame Ren for losing his cool in that situation, either. “Did you at least learn not to put your fingers too close to the hinges?”

“Yes. Absolutely. Handles or bust. Sometimes the very middle of the door if it has no specific handles available for my use. I learned my lesson.”

“Ren?”

“He learned his lesson. It doesn’t stop him from holding doors for people, but he does so in a safer fashion.”

I could live with that—probably. “Anything else you’re going to tell me that I’m not going to like?”

“You’re going to be carried up and down any stairs, and you can’t throw your wheelchair down any steps when you’re upset they are in your way,” Ren replied.