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“A lot. An important fact that I’m going to take into consideration with the tone of my response.” “Here we go.”
“I appreciate everything you’re doing for me. I really do. Major brownie points for taking eighty percent of my blood and passing it around to all your doctor friends to ...
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“But I want to be very clear where that line ends. You are helping me with my...
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driving issues. Not my work issues. Medical only. Okay? So, please, don’t slip back into you...
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“Infuriatingly.” “This from the woman who used to barricade the kitchen and declare martial law whenever you were baking?” “You and Ryker used to eat all the cookie dough!” “And threatening my li...
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“We’re getting off topic. Point is, don’t get all bossy on me, Morrison.”
“Why do you keep checking your phone?”
“I’m googling how to escape overprotective men in moving vehicles. The results are concerning.” “Hilarious. Question remains.” “I missed a meeting yesterday with my client. There’s a situation I need to handle.”
“Trust me,” I assured. “If I thought death was still lurking nearby, I’d be demanding the penthouse suite.”
“Look, I know you care. And, again, I appreciate everything you’re doing. But this—the hovering, the
second-guessing, the swooping in to save me from myself—this is exactly what I asked you not to do. I need my doctors to give me the facts, and, yes, I even need your medical opinion. But the final call? That’s mine. Can you respect that?”
“So,” he said, “do you want to stop at a coffee shop before I drop you off?”
“Now?” “We agreed to go once you were discharged.”
“I didn’t mean the literal moment of being discharged,”
“And I should probably rain-check that.” “But you said—”
“And we need to have this conversation. But I’ve got a panicking bride, and I already missed her meeting yesterday. I need to deal with this crisis, and when you and I talk …”
“I want to actually talk. No distractions, no checking my phone every two minutes because work is imploding.”
“How do you know where I live?”
“Ryker gave your address to me when you moved in.” “What? Why?”
“Because I asked him for it,”
“Again, why? Why did you want my address?” “The day we stopped talking.”
“I made two promises to myself: I’d respect your space, and I’d always know where to find you if you needed me. Ryker’s been helping with the second part.”
“People who keep insisting something’s not a big deal usually know damn well it’s a very big deal.” “Not in this case.”
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I—” “I’m walking you inside.” “That’s not necessary.” “This isn’t up for debate.”
“Socially awkward but sweet?”
“You’re starting to sound like a broken record, Cupcake.”
“And you didn’t have any health issues before moving in?” “No.”
He began thumbing through the pages and—oh God—found my highlights. And my margin notes. Including the OH MY GOD, THIS IS SO HOT I’d scrawled next to a particularly steamy scene. I lunged for the novel, but not before his eyes caught the passage in question.
Oh no. Not him finding her romance books.
“Getting her pussy eaten in front of city lights, eh?” My cheeks burned hotter than that ridiculous pink cover. “Did you find any MOLD, Dr. Morrison?”
“You okay there, Tess? You look like Ryker did when your mom found his browser history.” “Gross.”
“So, where’s the rest of your porn library?” I spun around so fast that I crashed right into his chest.
“I saw the words cunt and cock.” Blake arched a brow, his voice dropping to a tone that should be illegal. Based on the fresh smirk on his face, he’d said it to incite that fresh smoke from my cheeks. “I’m not a literary scholar, but I don’t think that was Moby Dick. Although …”
“No mold. No mildew. I appreciate—” “The CPR? The lifesaving? The literary criticism?”
I am cackling.
“The thing about mold and environmental toxins is that they’re insidious. They hide in walls, under floors, in air ducts. Places you’d never think to look until it’s too late.” “Are you suggesting my home is what’s making me sick?” “I’m saying we can’t rule it out.”
“My symptoms weren’t gradual,”
“It started suddenly with an illness.” “Still doesn’t mean it’s impossible.” “Anything is possible at this point,”
“Maybe I got infected by a pink elephant that blew a loogie throug...
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“In any case, I can’t afford to move, and even if I could, my lease doesn’t end for another six months. I see no signs of mold, but your concern has been noted.”
“I have to get to an important meeting with the caterer.”
“In person? Tell me you’re joking.” “It has nothing to do with romance novels, I assure you.” “You just got released from the hospital.” “Keyword being released.”
“And look at me now. Fresh as a daisy.” “You need to stay home.” “Again, your opinion has been noted. Now if you could go before bugs invite their friends, I’d appreciate it.”
“Should have the results soon. When I call, you’d better answer. Because if you don’t, I’ll assume you’re unconscious and bring the entire ER to your doorstep.”
“I have … an engagement.” “He said cryptically.”
The problem was, Ryker could read me easier than Tessa read romance novels, and the last thing I wanted to do was cause even more problems for Tessa right now.
That wasn’t brotherhood. Brotherhood was what came next: four of us united, standing guard over our fallen friend. We formed the Sinners and Saints Club that night, understanding that the line between the two wasn’t as clear as most people thought. Sometimes, good men did terrible things for the right reasons. Sometimes, the worst sinners were the ones hiding behind respectability.
1) Absolute loyalty. We’d seen how fast the world turned its back on people who fell from grace. Each of us carried darkness, violence we were capable of when pushed too far. I’d proven that the night I saved my sister, Faith. Knox was living it now. But in this club, we didn’t run from that darkness. We stood together in it, knowing that sometimes the most righteous acts looked like sins to the outside world.
2) Protection. Attack one of us, you attack us all. 3) Unbreakable connection. This wasn’t just a club; it was our chosen family, our life sentence. Regular check-ins, no matter where life took us. No man left behind, no brother forgotten. In a world where people disappeared from each other’s lives so easily, we chose to anchor ourselves to each other.
Tessa: You told me to confirm when I was all locked up and safe in my place for the night. Considered not doing it, just to prove you’re not the boss of me. But I figured I owe you for the whole saving-my-life situation. So, here I am, being a good little patient. Happy now, Dr. Control Freak? *eye roll emoji*
For being able to exist without pain and sickness. Was that too much to ask? Why did some people get everything—looks, money, success—while some of us sobbed on bathroom floors, trembling with violent episodes of vomiting? Why did my bar in life keep getting lower and lower until simply feeling okay felt as possible as landing on the moon? Why did this have to be so hard?
“Blake?” Tessa’s voice—that sweet voice that haunted both my dreams and nightmares—cut through my dark thoughts. I spun to find her in the doorway, and for that one precious moment, suspended in time before she registered the devastation on my face, I cataloged every detail of hers.
