Page 41 of Inevitable Dream

“You shouldn’t have to do that,” I counter.

“Are we together?”

“What does?—”

“Are. We. Together?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Then this is our first purchase as a couple. I put money down, you do the payments. I’m meeting you halfway, sweetheart. My first instinct was to buy it outright and bring it home,” he confesses. “This is a fair compromise,”

I gaze at his face, and I can see how much this means to him. “Next time, we talk about it before you corral me into a situation like this. Got it?” I say, poking his massively muscled chest.

His lips brush over mine. “We’ll see,” he replies with a mischievous grin. If he weren’t so sexy, staying mad would be easier. But his intentions are sweet, and I must admit that I wasn’t too keen on taking the bus to and from work. This brings up the fact that I’ve been getting more and more agitated when I was thinking of my ride to work.

“I think I should go see a counselor,” I blurt out, expecting to see Rebel’s surprised expression, but instead, he nods. “I thought I was handling it, but the idea of getting on public transportation alone scares me.”

Rebel takes my hands, lifts one to his lips, and kisses my knuckles. “That’s understandable. You’ve been through a trauma, and it’s good that you recognize that talking to a counselor would be the right move for you.”

“I hate that I’m weak,” I whisper, my lower lip trembling.

“Baby, you’re anything but weak. I can see our future having a few battles of wills, but it’ll be worth it,” he says to lighten the mood, then more seriously, “I want to teach you self-defense. I think it’ll help you to know that you can defend yourself if you need to.”

I can feel the heaviness lift off my chest. I’ve been trying to ignore this feeling of fear, but it’s been growing and gnawing at me. “I’d like that.” Relief washes through me. Rebel feels it too.

“Nothing’s going to hurt you again, Sadie,” he says, and I believe him.

Chapter19

Dinner Break

Sadie

Three weeks later…

Mom and Dad have left for home, but they’re already planning their next trip back. Dad and Rebel have formed their own manly bond and all my worrying was for nothing. Dad connected with Phoenix and Bull as well and has invited them down for a fishing weekend. Falcon dropped in to meet my parents, and Dad and he got on famously.

The only one missing has been Wire. I asked Rebel about him because the last time I saw him at the hospital, he looked like he was ready to murder someone.

“He needs space, baby. It happens to all of us from time to time. This case affected him, and he’s processing what he’s feeling. We’re keeping a close eye on him,” Rebel told me.

In the meantime, I started at the hospital, and I’m loving it. I even visited Remmi, and she was looking much better. She was released the other day, and she was happy to go. We had some great talks when I visited her on my breaks. We even exchanged numbers and made plans to meet for coffee. When Mitchell and Mary came to pick her up, they recognized me. They gave me hugs and told me to thank the guys again.

Tonight is my first evening shift in the emergency room. The hospital is always busy, but tonight it’s a madhouse. Mostly, we’re dealing with simple fractures and stomach bugs. All in all, it’s a pretty normal night.

I’m nearing my dinner break when two officers come in with a man in handcuffs. The officers sit him down, the younger, blond-haired, blue-eyed of the two policemen standing next to their handcuffed guest, while the dark-haired, burly cop comes over to the desk to register the patient. While the officer gives the information needed to move the intended patient along, I study the tall, gaunt man with long dirty-blond hair and hazy eyes that can’t focus on any one thing. Either this man is high as a kite or has had a blow to the head. I see a trickle of blood and immediately go into action.

“Jack, help me move this guy into a room,” I call to the orderly, at the same time catching the cops’ attention. I approach the patient, and his eyes meet mine, but he winces in pain as he attempts to focus on me. “Hey, what’s your name?” I ask him.

The man squints, shaking his head. “Uh, Kane. Kane Barret.”

“What year is it, Kane?” I keep my voice soft and calm.

“Year? Twenty twenty-four,” he answers.

I give him a smile. “Good. Did you hit your head? Can you tell me what you remember?” I ask.

“I was in the alley. I bunked down for the night. Next thing I know, the police are slapping cuffs on me, and my head aches,” Kane replies.

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