Days blurred into weeks, each one a hazy mix of pain, healing, and unexpected moments of comfort. The Porter cousins became constant fixtures in my recovery, their presence both comforting and unsettling. Joel would sit by my bedside for hours, his usual intensity softened as he read to me from books or shared stories from his childhood. Sebastian brought me gourmet meals that put my street fare to shame, while Braxton’s jokes and antics never failed to coax a reluctant smile from my lips.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was living in some bizarre alternate reality. These guys, with their designer clothes and million-dollar smiles, were supposed to be my enemies. Instead, here they were, fussing over me like mother hens. It was enough to make a girl question her sanity.

One afternoon, as I took my first tentative steps around the room, Joel’s strong arm supporting me, I felt a strange warmth bloom in my chest.

The heat of his skin seeped through my thin hospital gown, sending an unexpected heat through my body. I pushed the feeling aside, chalking it up to my messed-up hormones or maybe a side effect of the pain meds.

“You know, for a bunch of rich boys, you’re not half bad at playing nurse.”

Joel chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “We aim to please. Though I think Braxton’s bedside manner could use some work.”

“Hey!” Braxton protested from across the room, where he was arranging a truly ridiculous number of roses in a large vase. “I’ll have you know I’m a delightful caregiver. Right, Brynn?”

I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t suppress a grin. “Oh yeah, nothing says ‘healing’ like your terrible jokes and off-key singing.”

As much as I hated to admit it, Braxton’s goofy antics were growing on me. Like a fungus, I thought wryly, but a weirdly endearing one.

While the days passed, I found myself liking their company. One evening, as Sebastian and I sat on the balcony watching the sunset, he turned to me with a gentle smile. “I checked on Kay, and she’s been asking about you. She’s settled in well with Marla, but she misses her big sister.”

My throat tightened at the mention of Kay. “Is she...is she okay? Really?”

A familiar pang of guilt twisted in my gut. I should be there with her, not lounging around in this fancy-ass mansion like some pampered princess.

Sebastian nodded, his eyes warm with understanding. “She’s more than okay, Brynn. I can bring here if you want. Just say the word.”

I swallowed hard, fighting against the lump in my throat. “I don’t know if I want her to see me like this...if I’m ready to...”

The words hung in the air, unfinished. How could I explain that I was afraid? Afraid that Kay would see the weakness in me, the vulnerability I’d always tried to hide from her, or that my appearance might scare her to death. She had warned me and told me not to take Shoemaker’s deal, but I hadn’t listened.

“It’s okay,” Sebastian said softly. “We’re not going anywhere. Take all the time you need. And just so you know, Joel gave Marla a crazy amount of money to help her community center, and Braxton’s been going done there almost daily to help out.”

I blinked, surprised by the sudden sting of tears. These guys were taking care of my sister, my people, when I couldn’t. It was a kindness I’d never expected, and it scared the hell out of me.

Oddly, the Porter mansion, once a prison, began to feel like...home. And the Porters themselves? They were becoming something I’d never dared to hope for—family. I’d spent so long building walls, keeping everyone at arm’s length. Now, these three men were bulldozing right through my defenses, and the scariest part? I was starting to think I might not mind.

Chapter Ten

BRYNN AND THE EMERALD GAZE

The crackle of the fire made the bedroom cozy. I sat on the edge of my bed, the warmth of the flames throwing a golden glow across the space. The plush carpet under my bare feet felt like a luxury I still couldn’t get used to, just as the mending bruises and fading cuts that marred my skin were reminders of a harsher existence.

Funny how a soft floor could feel so foreign, like my feet were sinking into another world. Part of me wanted to dig my toes in deeper, while another part screamed to run back to familiar concrete. Old habits die hard, I guess.

“Your arm...does it still hurt?” Joel’s voice was gruff.

I looked up. He entered the room and stood by the fireplace, his shadow coloring the wall like a dark stain.

I flexed my fingers, feeling the twinge of soreness. “It’s sore, but better each day. My ribs don’t hurt as much anymore, either. I feel like I’m regaining my strength. Thanks to you and your cousins.”

Joel crossed the room, his movements purposeful, the muscles in his arms visible under the fitted shirt. “You shouldn’t have been there, Brynn. Facing Shoemaker alone was reckless,” he said, his eyes fierce, a passionate intensity emanating from his stance.

Oh, here we go. Another lecture from the great Joel Porter. As if I needed reminding of my own stupidity. But hey, at least he cared enough to scold me, right? That’s progress in my book.

I frowned, rising to meet his gaze head-on. “What choice did I have after you threw me out, Joel? I mean, I get it. You were angry that I had lied and pretended to be Elizabeth, but I needed that money for me and Kay…I just never should’ve trusted Mr. Shoemaker.”

“I know…it’s…my fault. Not yours.” His voice rose. “You’re not invincible. You could’ve been killed, and for what? You think you don’t have people who care about what happens to you?”

In my world, caring usually came with strings attached, and I wasn’t in the mood for another puppet show.