Page 52 of Ruthless Lullaby

Is he playing dumb?

My eyes flutter open and I turn to face him, taking in his defined jawline covered in rugged stubble. His posture is confident and commanding, oozing raw masculinity. Goddammit, this man must be the hottest creature on earth.

And he's gazing directly at me.

"Doing what? Well, let me think. First, you scare the shit out of me by practically kidnapping me in the dead of night, then suddenly, you're all kind and caring, taking me to the hospital to see my mother.”

"Oh, that," he says calmly. He falls silent for a few moments before speaking again. "I understand what it's like to see your mother suffer."

His response catches me off guard.

“You do?”

He remains quiet.

I suddenly clam up, let out a sigh, and sink back into the seat. I take a deep breath, inhaling his now familiar, musky scent. It's justsoMaron. I'm pretty sure he didn't buy that scent in a shop like us, mere mortals. He was probably born with it. Despite this aura of danger constantly surrounding him like a dark raincloud, I oddly feel safe around him right now. Like I can just be myself.

Ever since the accident that took my sister’s life and turned my world upside down, I've just been going through the motions of everyday life, trying to cope. But with Maron next to me – in the craziest ways possible – it's like I'm teetering on the edge of something wild and exhilarating, showing me what it really means to be alive.

Then, thoughts of my mother flit through my mind. The fear I have over losing her like I lost Emily. What would my late sister do if she was in my shoes?

“You know exactly what I’d do, Min.”

“I'd feel alive.”

“I’d embrace the chaos, the passion, the thrill of the unknown.”

“I’d stop worrying so much about consequences and start living.”

The car takes a turn and comes to a halt. We arrive in the parking lot of St. Mary's Hospital, a massive, imposing building looking like a giant, hovering mass in the darkness. Most of its windows are black, with the exception of a few flickering squares scattered across the front of the building.

"I'll come with you," Maron says, his voice leaving no room for argument.

"But-" I start to protest, but he cuts me off with a look.

"I'll wait for you in the corridor. I want to make sure you're safe."

I give a subtle nod, unsure of how to feel about this. But as we walk through the dimly lit entrance of the hospital, I find myself oddly grateful for his company, despite the fact that I still can't shake off this feeling of unease.

When we reach the reception desk of the oncology department, I step forward and smile at the man sitting there. "I’m here to see Mrs. Lindsey Williams, please. Room 501."

The receptionist looks up at me with an uninterested expression. "No visiting hours now, Miss," he says, his tone flat. "Come back tomorrow between two and six PM."

I feel a surge of desperation rising in my chest. "Please," I say, leaning forward and lowering my voice. "My mother is getting treatment for her cancer. I only want to see her for a minute."

The receptionist shrugs, unmoved by my plea. "Hospital rules, Miss," he says, his voice devoid of sympathy. "Nothing I can do."

Just when I’m about to open my mouth and argue further, Maron steps forward. His presence suddenly fills the small space behind the reception desk. He looks around. "I’m sure we can bend the rules tonight," he says, his voice low. He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a wad of cash, placing it on the counter.

The receptionist's eyes widen as he takes in the sight of the money. For a moment, he seems to hesitate, his gaze darting between Maron and the cash. Then, with a quick, furtive movement, he slides the bills off the counter and into his pocket. He gives us a curt nod.

"Just be quick," he mutters, his eyes averted.

I gape at Maron, a mixture of awe and trepidation coursing through me. The casual way he just bribed a hospital employee both thrills and unnerves me. It's a stark reminder of the power he wields and the dangerous world I'm stepping into.

As we navigate the dim corridor towards my mother's room, I feel Maron behind me, like a physical force at my back. His footsteps echo ominously in the silence, each one a reminder of the precipice I'm walking. I'm grateful for his support, but I can't shake the feeling that I'm being drawn deep into a world of shadows and secrets – one I'm not sure I'm prepared to face.

For now, though, I push it aside. All that matters right now is seeing my mother, feeling the warmth of her hand in mine, and telling her how much I love her.

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