Page 23 of Widow's Walk

“I’ll get what I can on her medical history and let you know when we’re ready for surgery.”

I stand with the folder, the weight of it heavier than I expected. It begins to burn my hand as if I can feel every break, every tear through it.

I haven’t said a word since we left the office, but Sinclair easily fills the silence on the car ride. She’s humming some aimless tune, and drums her fingers on her thigh as if there’s a song playing only she can hear. Her body is slouched against the window, and all I can think is how human she seems right now.

“Blackwell?” she says my name on a long, contented sigh.

“Yes?”

“Do you love me?”

My head snaps to the side to gawk at her as she rolls her head in my direction, eyes barely focused. “What?” I practically splutter.

She sleepily grins. “Just checking.” I narrow my eyes on her wondering what the fuck she’s going on about when she bursts out in giggles like it’s the funniest thing. “The look on your face,” she mutters, then starts messing with the hem of her shirt, so easily distracted.

The heaviness of the folder in my lap is too much to bear. I put it in the space between us and run my hand down my face with a sigh.

She gasps, causing me to jolt upright, searching for the danger. “Can we stop there?” she asks with childlike enthusiasm, her face nearly smashed against the glass.

Once my heart jumps back down from my throat, I frown and look around. “Where?”

“There!” she points to some fast-food joint now behind us.

“For what?”

She looks at me and tries to roll her eyes, but they only flutter. “For food,duh.” I let out yet another sigh. “I’ve never had fast food before,” she pouts.

I frown at her. “You’re serious?”

“Deadly.” She giggles at her own joke, making me snort under my breath. “I wasn’t allowed,” she says lightly.

With that small confession, I can’t say no to her. I tell Hawk to turn us around and take us to the fast-food place. “You sure about this?” I mutter.

“I heard it tastes like shame and regret. I want it.”

I stare at her, and a part of me needs to know what it was that I saw in her folder. Demand to know about every single scar on her. But the other part of me knows to stay quiet. She’s so stupidly soft and innocent right now, I need to let her bleed herself all over the car.

We pull up to the window, and I ask her what she wants. Her reply, “Everything.”

“You’re going to throw up.”

“Worth it,” she responds with a full-on grin.

My head is pounding by the time we walk through the front doors. But Sinclair is still high on painkillers and sugar, floating on whatever is keeping her like this.

The second she spots my brothers, she gasps and makes a beeline for them. “Oh my God, Harlan!” He raises an amused brow and lets her throw herself on him as if they’ve been friends for years. “I had a cheeseburger!” she proudly announces, slightly swaying on her feet. “From a fast-food place.”

He helps keep her steady while adoringly smiling down at her. I clench my jaw so tight I can feel it in my ears. I know their friendship is innocent, at least on his end, but when she grabs hold of his biceps and grins up at him, their proximity and familiarity with one another has me wanting to put them both through a damn wall.

Harlan shoots me a look, silently begging for help. “And how was it? Everything you hoped and dreamed?” He plays along, voice and demeanor light.

She shakes her head like a child, and I can imagine the way her petite nose is scrunched up like she did when she took her first bite of the cheap food. “That wasnotmeat. But the French fries were okay.” She shrugs, then whips around to face me. “Can we have tacos for dinner?” she asks, completely unaware of how both my brothers are desperately trying not to laugh.

I rub my aching forehead. “Sure,” I mutter to appease her. “Harlan, will you escort Sinclair to her room?”

“But I’m not tired,” she pouts, bottom lip jutting out.

“You will be.” The meds will have her on her ass soon. “Meet me when you’re done,” I say to Harlan.

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