Page 75 of Arranged Scars
The front desk lady looks from Finn to me to Liam back to Finn and back to me again. She’s frowning so deep it looks like her forehead is about to crumple into dust.
“The room’s ready,” she says very slowly. “But are you sure everything’s okay?”
“Totally fine,” Liam answers quickly before I can. “My friend’s just drunk, is all.”
“Wasted,” Finn murmurs. He’s grinning madly and his face is pale as death. We stripped off his bloody clothes, bandaged him up tightly, and switched him into sweats. His injuries aren’t visible, but he’s still deeply drugged up.
The woman sighs and starts typing. “Here’s your key card and here’s a spare. The Presidential Suite is the floor marked P at the top of elevator 2. If you need anything else?—”
“Thanks a ton!” I say and quickly help Liam drag Finn away.
“What a nice person,” Finn whispers happily. “I hope she doesn’t call the cops.”
“You and me both, pal.” I grunt as he cranes his neck to peer back at the exhausted-looking hotel employee. She’s watching and shaking her head like she’s seen a lot and she’s sick of it.
We make it to the room. It’s a massive, gorgeous suite with a front sitting section, a living area, a full kitchen, and two bedrooms. Finn slumps down on the couch with a sigh, stretching out and slouching so far I’m afraid he’s going to topple onto the floor.
“I’ll get the doctor,” Liam says, checking the refrigerator. He finds a beer and pockets it. “Keep him conscious and talking.”
“What about the bleeding?”
“We got it mostly under control. The doc will handle the rest.”
I wring my hands nervously and glance over my shoulder. Finn’s fluffing a pillow. “I thought he said no hospitals.”
“Which is why I’m going to pay an extremely shady but fairly competent medical student?—”
“Wait,student!?”
Liam looks exasperated. “Yes, he’s a student in his last year, and he’s solid. He does good work, keeps his mouth shut, and isn’t on the main Whelan payroll, which means it won’t get back to Declan. He’s my guy straight up. You want better, you’re welcome to find it.”
I shake my head and wave him off. “You’re right. Go get the doctor.”
“Thank you for accepting my expertise. I’m going to be a couple hours. Just hang tight.”
Liam leaves and it feels like the expansive suite suddenly gets very, very warm and extremely small. Finn’s still lying on the couch, but now he’s only half awake. His eyelids are fluttering. I find a bottle of champagne in the fridge, no doubt obscenely expensive, and crack it open. I don’t offer any to my patient.
“Hey, you have to stay awake.” I sit down at his feet and jostle him. “No passing out.”
“Hard not to,” he murmurs, still smiling, but he seems a little less loopy. “You drugged me.”
“That was Liam, but he was right to do it.”
“You think I can’t handle some pain?”
“I think there’s no reason for you to suffer if you don’t have to. Now, keep it together.”
He grunts in response. I drink some champagne, mostly to steady my nerves. My hands are still shaking and the adrenaline is finally beginning to burn off.
I can still hear the bark of gunfire from that house. It went so exceptionally wrong so damn fast I don’t even know what happened. Liam only gave me bits and pieces, but we were too busy keeping Finn alive and getting here before we were spotted.
“You’re pretty.”
I jerk sideways and frown. Finn’s smile is slightly less strained. “You’re high.”
“Both true statements.”
“Okay, big guy.” I laugh and pat his leg. “Since you’re talking, why don’t you tell me why you got shot?”
