Page 75 of Líadan's Code

“Yes, oxygen for all of you,” he murmurs as he pulls tanks over on their little carts and gets us situated. Taking scissors, he cuts the sweater right off Jordan’s body. “No use trying to take it off the old fashioned way.”

Looking down, he has Jordan lay down on an examining table with his oxygen mask. Pulling out medication, something that looks like a large pair of tweezers, and syringes, he blows out a breath before he puts on a mask.

“I should ask who you are, but I think you’re doing your best to hold on at the moment,” Dr. Kurtz says. “You’ve had quite the night, so I’m just going to knock you out with some good meds, and then work on your back. I’ll speak to you when you wake up.”

Giving Jordan a shot in his arm, the good doctor waits for him to be completely knocked out before beginning to work quickly.

“Now that that’s taken care of, tell me everything that happened,” the doctor demands.

With nothing else to do, and because it’ll be on the news in some way tomorrow, Lía and I tell him what happened.

Chapter Seventeen

Líadan

Ican’t sleep. I’m sitting in the chair next to the bed where Jordan’s sleeping so I can be closer to him. Brendan’s hand is reaching out toward both of us in his sleep as he twitches fitfully on the hospital bed. We’re still in Dr. Kurtz’ basement because it’s not safe for us to move yet.

The three of us suffered from some smoke inhalation, and I’m dutifully using my oxygen mask as I watch over the two men in my life. I know it’s too soon to tell Jordan that I love him, but the iron fist grip on my heart that’s been strangling me ever since the window exploded is telling.

I would miss him if he was gone, my life is better because I know him, and dammit a piece of my heart that I didn’t think I had anymore is firmly his.

“Lía,” Brendan rasps, pulling off his oxygen mask. Dr. Kurtz demanded that we continue to use them for a while longer because of the smoke inhalation. My throat feels raw, while the adrenaline flowing through my body made me not really pay attention to it.

“Yes?” I whisper, coughing as my throat seizes on me. Cormac, and whoever else was outside my home last night are idiots. I’m sure, though, that if I had died, it would be one less inconvenience for them.

It’s four in the morning now on Tuesday, and I’m going to need to move around my meeting schedule I think.

“None of this is your fault, and he’s fine,” he says.

“Should we let him go?” I ask. “Jordan is okay this time. What about the next?”

“We’ll find a way to make it so there isn’t a next time, Lía. Dr. Kurtz says he’ll make sure there won’t even be any scars,” Brendan grunts.

Dr. Kurtz slathered on a ton of medicated antibiotics with all kinds of healing properties, but I don’t know if even he can ensure there aren’t any scars. Jordan’s back is a mess of cuts from the glass, and some of them needed stitches.

I’m not a vain woman. Scars don’t bother me, even though Daddy ensured I wouldn’t have any after what Bruin did to me.

The memories always seem to linger.

What if Jordan wakes up and hates me one day? I don’t know if I’d be able to survive that.

“Maybe we should let him go,” I whisper, tears beginning to flow down my face. “Brendan, he has a family that loves him and we’re at war. This time, we got lucky. What happens the next time? Our life isn’t ever going to be rainbows and happy moments. He deserves good things, and not our bullshit.”

“Milseán, you are just starting to get everything you want and deserve. Hold out a little longer so we can eradicate the scum,” Brendan hisses. “Why are you suddenly thinking like this?”

“There’s a voice that says it’s wrong for me to want more than you,” I say, coughing.

“Oxygen mask!” Dr. Kurtz roars down the stairs, making me flinch. I don’t think this man ever sleeps, but to be fair, he’s been checking regularly on us all.

“Yes, Doctor,” I croak, putting the mask back on. Jordan doesn’t respond at all, completely passed out. We’ve been traveling, staying up late, and now we had a goddamned building burned down while we were in it.

“Maybe we’re unlucky, Brendan. What if we don’t deserve Jordan?”

Brendan sits up slowly, wincing as he shakes his head. “I know we don’t deserve him,” he says, his voice muffled from the mask. “How do you even begin to deserve a man who anticipates your needs? Jordan is a genuinely good person, and we?—”

“Our very souls are tainted by this life,” I finish. “We’re planning to scorch the earth of all the evil my father let go free. He didn’t care what they did as long as he made money from it.”

Pulling sweet oxygen into my lungs as my vision goes spotty from the memories and anxiety, I shake my head.

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