Page 38 of Soulmate of the Mafia King
“Let’s see.” She pulled out a bag she’d walked in with and refused to answer any questions about. “How does this do, for a start?”
Inside sat one of my favorite suits. Fuck, that nearly made me tear up. My recovery hadn’t been too much trouble, but I missed feeling like myself. Having everyone doting on me was weird.
“Great fucking start,” I said.
She eased me out of bed then helped me through changing in the bathroom. Her hands skimmed over my skin, avoiding the still stitched-together injuries on my chest. The new movements strained me after so many days in bed. Maybe the doctor was right about not driving for a while. I felt like I was in a totally new body.
Paige fastened my pants, and my cock responded. Well, maybe not a totally new body. I leaned into her, angling for a kiss.
She pecked me on the lips and leaned back. “No strenuous physical activity, especially things that make you breathe hard.”
I groaned. “For how long?”
“The full recovery period.” Paige smiled. “But I guess we’ll see how long that is.”
I slung my good arm around her waist and let her escort me out. We were met with discharge papers and a wheelchair, which she pushed. On the way through the hospital, I said, “I know I joked about the shelter, but how are things, actually?”
She sighed. “According to Lauren, they’re going as smoothly as we could’ve hoped. The language barriers are a real issue. Caterina knew a bunch of translators, but none of them have enough credentials to legally be in session with Lauren.”
I grimaced. Therapy was the main thing that got Paige back on her feet. “So, what? Are they just sending those women home?”
She shrugged. “More or less? I mean, with resources, and suggestions, and everything else we usually give, as well as a staff member to accompany them on at least the flight, but there’s only so much we can do right now.”
I thought about my plans for the Mansion, how much that space would let Paige expand her operations. There had to be women who spoke other languages in Philadelphia too, even ifshe didn’t come across them as often. But it didn’t seem the time to tell her about my secret.
By the time we reached the door to the hospital, I was tired of sitting up so straight. The wheelchair was uncomfortable for someone of my size.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
I squeezed her closer. “With you here?”
“Real answer, Tom,” she said severely.
I dropped my smile. “I’m all right. Just wondering how much further we have to go.”
She pursed her lips but didn’t press. “Not too much. From here, it’s just a car ride to the airport, and then the plane.”
I grimaced. “Commercial plane?”
She shook her head. “We couldn’t get the timing right, so it’ll be your worse nemesis—a private jet. But I’ll be there the whole time.”
Killian appeared from behind a black sedan. “And so will I.”
I grinned at him. “And here I thought you’d fled at the last moment so you didn’t have to see my sorry ass being dragged out of here.”
“No, your sorry ass being dragged out of here has been the only thing keeping me going.” Killian opened the back door, and together, he and Paige helped me in.
Sitting in a more reclined position eased a little of the burn, but not nearly enough. Killian could obviously tell. He drove through the streets of Amman, the capitol, so carefully I almost taunted him for turning into a grandma while I slept. Then, he hit a bit of a bump, and I decided I didn’t need him to go any faster.
We reached a small airport on the outskirts of the city where a small plane waited with two men in front of it. Stan and Carp.
“They came back after the women were settled,” Paige explained, “but they didn’t want to crowd you at the hospital.”
My chest squeezed. I’d built an organization where my men would fly halfway around the world just to make sure I got home okay. That almost made up for stumbling out of the car.
“Thank you,” I said when the two of them raced over to try to catch me, as though Killian and Paige weren’t already there before I really knew I was falling.
Stan snorted. “Thanks for not dying.”
