Page 78 of Deadmen's Queen

“I ran out of painkillers,” I admitted, “but it’s fine. I just need to make a hot water bottle if you’ve got one.”

“I don’t think we do,” Tristan said, looking over at Bast who shook his head. “Ok, you move sunshine, and I’ll go and pick one up, and some painkillers while I’m at it.”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that,” I said, as he slid out from under me. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

Tristan turned round and placed a soft kiss on my lips. “I see we need to have that conversation again. You are not a bother, or an inconvenience, Paige, and we love taking care of you.”

“Pick something up for dinner while you’re out, Tris,” said Nate.

Tristan nodded. “Anything you fancy, Paige?”

“Something light please, Tris,” I answered. He nodded.

“Salmon stir fry ok? I know you like that.” I smiled and nodded, and he looked over at the others.

“There’s some veg in the drawer in the fridge. Could someone slice it up while I’m out, then I can cook as soon as I get back.”

“I can go instead if you want to get started,” offered Bast, but Tristan shook his head, reaching for his keys.

“No, I want a couple of ingredients for the sauce anyway, and if they don’t have what I need, I’ll need to figure out alternatives. I shouldn’t be too long.”

He dropped a kiss on the top of my head and left. Nate reached for my hand, pulling me onto his lap and held me close.

“I hate that you’re in pain,” he told me.

“Except when you’re causing it,” I reminded him playfully, and I was rewarded with a half smile.

Bast stood up, grabbing one of the soft knitted blankets on the end of the sofa, a recent addition when they caught me shivering at night when we hung out. He draped it over me, tucking it around my body.

“Better?”

“Much,” I said, trying to fight the urge to cry with happiness at the three of them taking care of me.

We settled back down, continuing to watch the daft programme, and between twinges of pain I laughed at their dry commentary on the talent acts.

Tristan hadn’t been gone that long when Bast’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen, then frowned and answered it.

“Bast. Jamieson.” He stood up, moving into the kitchen, and Nate watched him go, a frown on his face. I looked up at him.

“Something wrong?” Nate shook his head.

“I don’t know.”

A minute later, Bast walked back into the living room looking tense.

“We have to go. Someone’s fired the warehouse on Baker Industrial, and we need to get there now.”

I slid off Nate’s lap. “Let me get a hoodie, and my trainers.”

Bast shook his head. “No way, Paige. You’re staying here.”

“Alone?” demanded Nate as he stood up.

Bast looked up at him. “Jamieson said it’s Bates and his lot. She’s not coming.” Nate inhaled then nodded.

“Who’s Bates?” I asked, following them out into the hallway. “And why can’t I come?” Nate disappeared into the cellar without a word.

“Head of a crime family in London,” Bast said as he shoved on his shoes. “He's been hitting up properties of ours all over the country, but I have no idea how he found out about this one. It’s too dangerous, Paige.”

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