Page 35 of Pray for the Damned

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

WAVERLY

Ihiss out a breath as Elias carefully stitches up one of the deeper cuts on my arm. He numbed the area before he started, but the sensation of the sutures tugging at my skin is making my stomach roll.

“You should take the night off tonight,” he says gently. “These are pretty nasty, and I’m sure they hurt like hell. Plus, we haven’t even had a chance to look at your side yet.”

I’m already shaking my head before he can finish speaking. There’s no way I can take the night off now. “I’m fine.”

He scoffs. “You’re certainly not fine.” He looks up at me from what he’s doing. “You have sick leave for a reason. We can get the bar covered, or Abigail can manage on her own for one night. It shouldn’t be too busy tonight.”

“I can’t take a sick day. I’ve only been working here for a week!”

Elias sighs and drops the needle into the tray resting on the couch beside me. “I understand that a lot of employers may not allow you to take time off so soon, but seeing as I’m the one telling you to take the night off, I think it’s fine.”

“I’ll be okay. I’ll pop some Tylenol and be right as rain.” I force my voice to sound sure of that, but he hits me with a skeptical look.

I frown when I notice Emmett standing by the door on his phone but quickly shake it off. He should probably still be at work right now. I think? What kinds of hours do priests work anyway? As if there weren’t a million reasons we can never take things further between us, that has to be close to the top of the list. There is nothing holy about me. I’ve spent my entire life sinning just to get by, and it’s only a matter of time before Emmett finds out the things I’ve done to stay alive.

“Take the night off, Waverly,” Elias says firmly. “Let the pastor take you home and bring you soup in bed or whatever other mother hen bullshit he’s going to pull, and then you can come in tomorrow night instead.”

“But I’m not rostered on for tomorrow night.”

“Do you have other plans?” He quirks up a brow, and I shake my head. “Then it’s settled. You’ll work tomorrow night instead, and that way you won’t lose any hours. Sound good?”

I sigh and nod. It’s probably not a good look to be arguing with my boss anyway, even if I do feel bad about missing a night of work so early in my employment.

“How’s she doing?” Emmett asks as he drops to his knees in front of me and envelops my hand in his much larger ones.

“A few cuts needed a stitch or two, but nothing too bad. They likely won’t even scar as long as you take care of them.”

I nod, and a little part of me relaxes. To be honest, I couldn’t care less if I’m covered in scars, but I know that’s not what patrons at a club like this will like, and therefore it could impact my tips. Now that I’m down to one job, that’s not something I’m willing to risk.

“What about her side?” Emmett asks as his thumb brushes over mine in a soothing motion. Why does he have to be so goodat comforting me? Why can’t he be like every other man and just care about his dick? It makes it that much harder to put distance between us.

“I’m getting there.” Elias cuts off the end of the suture and sits back on his heels, checking both my arms to make sure he’s got them all. “Lift up the side of your shirt and tuck it up into your bra.”

When I open my mouth to argue with him, I’m quickly cut off by Emmett following the order for him, and I’m too slow to cover what I know is a nasty bruise.

They both blow out a breath at the same time and I look down to see the damage.

“Jesus,” Elias mutters as he gently presses down on my ribs, and I wince. “I don’t think you’ve broken anything, but this is going to be sore for at least a week or two. If you need more than just tonight off, let me know, and we’ll work it out.”

“I’ll be fine,” I insist.

“I’m sure you will. But if you come into work before you’re healed, you could make it worse, and then you’ll need longer off,” he challenges.

“I’ll see how I feel,” I concede, but what he doesn’t need to know is that no matter how I feel tomorrow, I’ll be here. I’ve worked through worse than a few cuts and bruises, but I choose to keep that information to myself because I don’t know how either of the men in the room will take it.

This whole having someone to care for you thing is much more work than I thought it to be.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

KADE

Ishouldn’t be here.

But it’s not the first time I’ve broken into her apartment while she’s sleeping.

---