Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“He was jumped by two men. He’s probably got a bunch of bruises, but the main issue is that he hit his head on the brick wall when he fell, and has been bleeding ever since.” Olivia glanced at him. “He’s been talking, but seems kind of out of it, so it’s possible that he’s got a concussion.”
“Any vomiting?”
“No.”
“That’s something, at least.” Doc Jones nodded. “You wouldn’t believe the trouble this one gets into.”
Olivia snorted. “Oh, I can imagine.”
Cillian tried not to be too insulted that they were talking about him like he wasn’t in the room. Doc Jones took the towel off the back of his head and batted his hand away. “Don’t move.”
Since she had a history of smacking her unruly patients, he wasn’t inclined to disobey. He’d already had his bell rung tonight—he didn’t need it to happen a second time. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good boy.” She prodded the wound, her touch much less gentle than Olivia’s had been. “You don’t even need stitches.” She hefted her giant bag onto the table next to him and rifled through it, coming up with a handful of bandages. A few minutes later, he was wrapped up and feeling like one of those amnesia patients on the soaps his mother swore up and down and sideways that she never watched. “Good enough.” Another dip into her bag brought up an orange pill bottle. “These aren’t anything fancy—just extra-strength Tylenol. You’re a grown-ass man, so you can handle a little pain, and I’m not giving you anything else until we know if you’ve got a concussion.”
He ignored the bottle. “I don’t need anything.” Tylenol wouldn’t knock him out like the meds he’d been given after he was shot, but his aversion to pain pills had only gotten stronger as time went on. He didn’t want to take anything that might make him sleep too deeply—or take away his pain so he’d pass out. The nightmares were bad enough if he could startle himself awake easily. Being stuck in them…He wouldn’t take the chance.
Doc Jones’s eyebrows rose. “If you say so. Change the bandage once a day for a week, don’t knock your head into anything in the meantime, and you should be fine. Call me if it starts bleeding excessively again.”
“I will.” He wasn’t thrilled about the head bandage, but it was better than stitches at this point. He fucking hated stitches.
She nodded, and turned to Olivia. “He can’t be left alone tonight. So either take him back to the O’Malley house or take him home with you.” Her dismissive tone said she couldn’t care less which option the other woman chose.
“Wait—what? Aren’t you going to take him?”
“Not my job. I made sure the idiot wasn’t going to bleed to death. The rest is up to you.” She grabbed her doctor’s bag and marched out of the pub without a backward glance.
Olivia stared. “That’s some bedside manner.”
“She’s always been like that. Comes in, patches us up, and is gone without any small talk.” Doc Jones may not have been into the softer feelings, but she liked her money. So she didn’t mind showing up at odd hours, fixing men who’d obviously been up to something less than legal, no questions asked. He was pretty sure she had her own clinic, funded in part by O’Malley money. Since he couldn’t see her answering to anyone but herself, he figured the arrangement worked well for everyone involved.
“Wonderful.”
He carefully moved his head from side to side. As expected, the bandages were a good fit and not going anywhere. Cillian looked at Olivia—really looked at her—for the first time since the attack. She wasn’t exactly dragging ass, but she looked as exhausted as he felt. If it hadn’t been for him, she already would have been home and safe and probably asleep.
Way to go, asshole. If you hadn’t been wandering the streets, this never would have happened.
He carefully stretched. The aches and pains were more annoying than worrisome. “I can make it home on my own.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. It’s late—or early, depending on your definition. I’ll get you a hotel nearby and stay with you until morning.”
“Sure. Thanks.” Under different circumstances, he would have been happier than hell at this turn of events. As it was, he didn’t have the strength to make a move even if she was willing. He was pretty sure pity was her sole motivation for helping him, rather than being so overwhelmed with his sexuality that she couldn’t wait to get him alone. You are seriously knocking it out of the park with this woman.
* * *
This was a mistake. An epic mistake. Olivia should have just called him a cab and sent Cillian on his way. Instead here she was, checking them both into Beacon Hill Hotel while he leaned heavily on the counter next to her. Its nightly rate wasn’t one she could afford, but it was the only hotel within walking distance.