Page 55 of Day Shift

“Well, it’s his own fault. Murphman is the one who interrupted us,” Conan shot back, raising his hands in mock surrender. “And, hey, if he learned anything, it’s how to have a good time.”

Atticus shook his head. “I’m sure Murphy will survive. He’s seen worse.”

“Besides, no shame here,” Conan said, grinning at me. “You all know that. Right, Atticus?”

Atticus nodded, keeping his expression deadpan. “Absolutely. Conan’s shamelessness is well-documented.”

“Too late to tame him now,” Samantha quipped, handing Conan a clean plate.

I laughed, savoring the warmth of the espresso as I peeked over the rim of my cup. Samantha set a plate of toasted bagels and fruit in front of me, and we dug into breakfast. Soon we were chatting about the day ahead.

After polishing off his food and setting his plate in the sink, Conan walked up next to me and said softly, “Seriously though, I didn’t mean to wake you. You must be tired after just getting out of the hospital and dealing with the arraignment.”

“Oh, I’m tired all right, but it has nothing to do with the hospital or the arraignment.” I smiled up at him through my lashes. “Don’t worry. I’ll take it easy and be good to go when you get back later.”

He cupped my cheek and stamped a kiss on my forehead. “It won’t be too late when I get home, so plan on some more music therapy.” He grinned, nodding toward the living room. “My guitar is next to the hearth. I’ll play all your favorite songs tonight.”

“Home, huh?” Atticus said, cocking one of his sharp brows at Conan. “So, you’ve decided to move in with us? Are you going to start paying rent too?”

“Nah, you know what I mean, you little fucker,” Conan said with a shake of his head and a roll of his eyes. “You know I love my place over in Ruston. It might not be an ostentatious fortress like this place, but it has everything I need conveniently within walking distance.”

Samantha and I both chuckled, watching the brothers verbally spar.

Atticus stood up, straightening his shirt. “All right, time to head out. Hope traffic’s light this morning. Conan, you riding with us, or are you taking your Jeep?”

“I’ll drive myself. I’ve got errands to run after I get off,” Conan said, grabbing his keys.

Samantha started clearing the plates from the island.

“You guys get going. I’ll clean up,” I offered.

“Are you sure? This kitchen is like a sci-fi spaceship,” Samantha warned.

I waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll figure it out. Go, save lives.”

As they gathered their things and headed for the garage, Samantha glanced up, her eyes widening. “Oh, I almost forgot! Angel, I have your personal items from the ED. They were in my car from where I brought them home from the hospital yesterday.”

I glanced up, curious. “My personal items?”

Already heading toward the garage, Samantha explained, “Yeah, when the EMTs brought you in, you didn’t have much on you. No purse, wallet, or even a phone—”

“We had to cut off your clothing because of your injuries,” Conan added, walking back to where I sat. “I don’t remember there being anything except maybe a pair of shoes. I was too focused on keeping your neck aligned and dealing with that gash on your forehead.”

I cringed, heat creeping up my face. “So everyone saw me naked? Including you guys?!”

Atticus nodded, sympathy in his eyes. “Yeah, it was quite the introduction. But don’t worry; we’ve all seen worse.”

Conan reached over and squeezed my hand. “You’re a trooper, Angel. Don’t sweat it.”

Samantha returned with the paper bag a couple of minutes later and set it on the counter. “Here you go. Just to warn you, there may be blood on whatever’s in there. We usually plop a person’s stuff in the bag in a rush, and then it gets labeled and stored.”

“Okay, thanks for letting me know.” I stared at it, curious but not ready to deal with memories that might be provoked by blood-covered shoes.

Before they left, Conan gave me a sweet kiss. “Take it easy while I’m gone, okay?”

“I will,” I said, rising from the island to get going with the dishes and dismissing him as I started rinsing off the plates.

Then they were out the door, leaving the house quiet. Murphy trotted up to me, his tail wagging. I couldn’t resist slipping him a piece of leftover turkey. The silence felt strange after a month of constant activity and noise in the hospital.

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