Page 9 of In Death's Hands
I turn to see Nathan glaring at me, clearly still angry from my slipping out on him. For crying out loud, I just went to work! What’s up with everyone? My head, my choice.
He is looking incredibly delicious, however, in dark jeans and the same white T-shirt as before. Who wears a T-shirt in October in London?
In the corner of my eyes, I see Joana prowl closer.
“So, you’re the creepy saviour?”
His dark eyes slowly slide from my face to hers. “Excuse me?” The question is lifeless, sending goose bumps throughout my body.
Going home is starting to sound good right about now.
“When someone is hurt, you take them to the hospital, not back to your creepy cave.”
I almost snort. If only she knew what his “creepy cave” is really like. Joana waves her hand at me when I try to shush her and then crosses her arms, awaiting his answer.
I throw a pleading look to Isaiah only to find him wide-eyed and stuck on Nathan. Weird.
“From what I’ve heard, hospitals suck.”
I choke on a laugh, and his face seems to warm a fraction as he looks curiously my way. “All right, Jo, thank you for the overprotective nonsense”—I really mean that; I didn’t know she cared that much—“but I’m all right. And as I said, I asked him not to take me.”
I’m never sharing anything ever again. I push her to the counter to serve the other customers, but she throws a dark look at Nathan, moving two fingers between her eyes and his in an “I’m watching you” vibe. Ugh.
When I look back at Nathan, I find him observing my colleagues, his head slightly cocked to the side. “They care about you.” It’s not a question, but I nod anyway, still slightly surprised at that fact myself. “Good.”
A hand appears at my side, Isaiah’s. His eyes are still locked on Nathan, clearly puzzled by something.
Nathan looks at the hand extended his way for so long that I worry he’s about to embarrass my colleague. When he finally shakes it, Isaiah’s gaze widens slightly.
“Thank you, for taking care of Liv.” He swallows hard. “She rarely lets anyone do so.”
Surprise lights up Nathan’s handsome face, a warm smile now stretching his full lips. “It’s nothing.”
I’m stuck between the two men, my mind completely blank. This situation is so weird.
“Oh no, it’s something,” insists Isaiah, “and I have a favour to ask of you if it’s not too much trouble. Would you take Liv home?”
“What?!” I turn so fast I have to ignore the painful spark in my head before anyone overreacts again. Though from the tightening of Nathan’s lips, my wince didn’t go unnoticed. Great.
Isaiah turns to me. “You will go home, and you will rest, young lady, because I’m pretty sure you’re lying to us and yourself, saying you’re fine.”
“Iamfine. And it’s none of your business either way. You don’t get to order me around, old man.”
Far from being deterred by my words, he chuckles as he takes his phone out of his apron pocket. I can’t see what he’s doing on it but dread curls in my stomach. “Nathan, what did the doctor say last night? Or was there even a doctor?”
The man looks between the two of us, uncertainty plain on his face. “That she needs to rest, eat and drink—”
“See, I rested. I’m good to go.” I try to interrupt him, but Nathan keeps going despite it.
“—lots of fluids to help with the concussion.”
“Concussion?!” Joana shrieks from where she’s taking an order. The clients around us stare at me with wide eyes.
Before I can argue any more, Isaiah turns his phone to me, and my retort gets stuck in my throat. “You wouldn’t!”
“You’re going home now, or I’m calling her.”
“Are you threatening her?” Nathan steps closer to me, his voice suddenly icy.
