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His fingers closed around mine slowly, deliberately. “I promise.”

My heart gave one terrible little leap.

“Unless you don’t like it or don’t want it.”

“Unless I don’t like it or don’t want it,” he agreed.

I squeezed his hand. “Excellent.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why do I feel like I just made a tactical error?”

I smiled. “Instincts.”

The whole double family saw me home from the hospital.

Apparently releasing one exhausted eighteen-year-old required an escort detail large enough to invade a small country.

I had a brace around my ankle, gauze over both heels, a bandage across one palm, another on my knee, and enough smaller scratches that nobody had bothered covering all of them. Walking hurt. Existing hurt slightly less.

The Piper living room filled anyway.

Dad. Mom. Riot. Marion. Five Bishop brothers.

Declan never got farther than a few feet from me.

I took advantage.

“Stay in my room,” I said.

Silence.

I got some looks from the gathered families. I absolutely used their worry and pity against them. “I’d feel safer if Chief stayed with me tonight. I just want to be able to get some rest without worrying.”

Mom folded instantly. Of course she did.

Dad looked at Declan.

Declan looked back at him with the solemn expression of a man being entrusted with nuclear launch codes instead of somebody’s mildly concussed-looking daughter.

I wasn’t concussed. I just looked terrible.

Apparently that was enough.

Dad sighed. “If she needs you.”

“I’m staying,” Declan said.

Riot nodded like this was a perfectly normal arrangement.

Marion touched my hair. “You call if you need anything, sweetheart.”

Mayhem looked between Declan and me. His eyebrows went up. He opened his mouth—

Rook elbowed him before he could speak.

For once, Mayhem demonstrated a survival instinct.

It was kind of insane how easily I got away with it.