Page 62 of Ronan

“I want that key back before you leave, Byron,” I grumble.

“You’ve been at the hospital since you returned. I didn’t want to wake you. Not that you were answering any of our calls,” he replies.

“If it doesn’t involve my mom, it’s not important right now.”

“Sorry, but it doesn’t work that way, Baby Girl,” Lyric says.

“I left you in charge. You mean to tell me you can’t hold things down while I take care of my mom?” I snap.

“Danny, you know I always have your back, but there are things you have to have a final say on,” Lyric sighs.

“I know what I would do if I were running things,” Byron says.

I jerk my head back and look at him. He purses his lips and holds up his hands. I glare at him hard.

“I’m just saying. You asked Lyric to step in as your right hand. He should know what to do in your absence. That’s all I meant.”

“Good thing you’re not running things. My job isn’t to overstep. Shit is getting real, and every move made holds weight.

“These decisions need to be made carefully. I know you, Danny. If I fuck this up, you’ll have my head. That’s that shit Uncle Freddie taught you,” Lyric says.

“Or are you trying to make her second-guess herself so you can take over?” Byron mutters under his breath.

“I have enough shit going on. If you two are going to have a brat fest, get the fuck out. I don’t have the time or patience for the bullshit right now.”

“Sorry, Baby Girl. I didn’t mean to bring you any drama. I’ll hang out with you today and see if you have a moment for what I need to talk to you about,” Lyric apologizes.

“Sorry,” Byron says. “How is Aunt Den’Nisha?”

“I couldn’t talk to her doctor just now. The most they could tell me is that she’s still stable and making progress. I’m heading there once I’m dressed.”

“What about Anika? Is she there with her?”

“Fuck that bitch. I have no idea where the hell she is. Really don’t care,” I bite out.

“Damn, what happened?” Lyric says with concern in his voice.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Do you need me to look into things for you? Find out what’s up with her?” Byron offers.

“Not if you don’t want her blood on your hands. Leave her trifling ass wherever the fuck she’s at.”

Lyric releases a low whistle. “Noted. I’m not getting into that shit.”

“Well, you know I’m here for you. I’ll do whatever you need. If that means you want to find her and tell her about your mom, I’m here. If not, I’ve got your back in any way you need,” Byron says.

I go to glare at him for not letting it go and remember his mom and twin. I’m sure he’s thinking about how hard it was for him to lose a sibling. Especially the one he was closest to.

“What are you cooking?” I ask to change the subject.

“Your favorite,” he says with a big grin on his face.

“Cool, that means I have some time to get dressed. Lyric, head to my office. We’ll talk in there. You don’t need to tag along with me.”

“I can come with you to the hospital,” Byron offers.

“That’s not necessary.”

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