Page 49 of Wicked Spite
I walk right out of this fucking locker room and straight into my fucking wife and all I can think is, if my brother doesn’t live, then everything has to die.
Chapter 18
Reagan
Normally Penn’s the one who’s in control, the one who keeps his cool no matter the situation. He plays up his eccentric behavior, but beneath that show he puts on for everyone is an unshakable exterior that I can only suspect is the work growing up as the son of Robert Blackwood. Thinking about what he did to Penn to shape him into the monster he can often be makes me shiver. But now, standing in front of me, it’s clear that something has rattled him and shattered his composure. We have rarely seen eye to eye since the day we met, but right now I want to console him. I want to make this better, even though that’s not my role here.
“Hey,” I say gently, placing a hand on his arm. “What’s going on?”
Penn’s eyes are wild as he stares at me, struggling to find words. “It’s Graham. He’s…he’s in the fucking hospital. I don’t know what happened, but it’s bad.”
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath. Though I barely know Graham, I can’t stand Penn most of the time, but it’s hurtingme to see him like this. His vulnerability pulls at something deep within me, and that fierce protective instinct kicks into high gear. “Well, what the hell are we doing then? We gotta go to the hospital. I’m coming with you.”
“Really?” Penn looks at me, surprise etching across his face. “You don’t have to do that, Reagan.” Not his wife, Mrs. Blackwood, or even hellfire. He needs me to be with him right now.
“Of course I do,” I tell him, leaving no room for argument. “I want to. For you.” The words hang heavy between us, as if acknowledging our connection is a risk we’re both hesitant to take.
“Yeah, okay,” Penn says quietly. His eyes right now are more brown than green and meet mine with gratitude. And maybe something more, something deeper that I dare not put a name.
“Let’s go then,” I say, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling that I might actually care about Penn Blackwood—dangerous, charismatic, wildly inappropriate and definitely psychotic Penn Blackwood.
The sterile scent of antiseptic assaults my senses as Penn and I step through the sliding doors of the hospital. Ramsey drove me and the girls while the Blackwood brothers went with their coach.
“Give me your hand. I need you to keep me on fucking earth,” Penn says, his voice barely above a whisper as we approach the nurse’s station. I comply without any thought,and he links my fingers with his. I lean into his tall frame, and I don’t know if I’m trying to comfort him or seeking comfort myself. I watch as he puts on his most charming smile, his finger stroking the ring on my finger signaling that I belong to him. The nurse looks up from her computer, her eyes narrowing slightly as they take in Penn’s disheveled appearance.
“Can I help you?” she asks, clearly unimpressed by whatever charm offensive Penn is attempting.
“We’re here to see Graham Blackwood,” Penn replies, trying to keep his voice steady despite the underlying tension.
“Are you related to Graham? Only immediate family members are allowed in his room, I’m afraid,” the nurse informs us, her tone firm but not unkind. My heart sinks at the news, knowing that Penn needs all the support he can get right now. But rules are rules, even when they seem utterly unfair.
“Just tell me what room he’s in. He’s my little brother.” Penn says, holding himself back from getting snarky. His hazel eyes meet mine for a brief moment, the uncertainty there making my chest tighten. The nurse gives us the information, but the look of disapproval of Penn’s manners doesn’t go unnoticed by me.
When we get to the hallway in front of Graham’s room, I don’t know why I do it, but I grab Penn’s shoulders, pushing myself up and brushing my lips against his. “I’ll wait here,” I tell him softly, as if there were any chance I’d leave him to face this alone. He gives me a small, grateful smile before disappearing into Graham’s room.
As I lean against the wall, arms crossed defensively over my chest, Iris and Oakley walk through the floor’s doors and stare at me. Their faces are etched with worry, and I can’t help but feel a pang of empathy for them. We may not be family by blood, but we’re all bound together by our concern for Graham right now.
“Any news?” Iris asks, her voice quivering slightly.
“Only that they won’t let me in with Penn,” I reply, my frustration evident.
“Jeremiah raged and Lincoln made two nurses cry, and they wouldn’t let us in either.” Oakley mutters, running a hand through his hair. “How are you holding up?”
“Honestly, really worried about Penn. He’s unpredictable at the best of times,” I admit, swallowing hard as I try to keep my own emotions at bay. If the situation was flipped and it was my sister laid up in the hospital, the absolute animal I would be until I got some answers would be unbearable.
“It’s tough,” Iris agrees, her gaze distant as she stares down the hallway where Penn disappeared. “Almost like you’re really his wife.” She nudges me with her elbow, clearly trying to lighten the mood.
“Almost,” I say, giving her a small smile. If there’s one thing I’ve learned throughout my tumultuous life, it’s that when the chips are down, you find out who you can truly rely on—and I refuse to let Penn down. “Does anyone know what actually happened?”
Before either of them can answer me, Jeremiah comes out of Graham’s room looking like he’s ready to bulldoze the entire hospital and he heads toward the nurse’s station.
“I should—” Oakley starts, and I shoo her away because she definitely needs to go leash her guard dog before we end up on the news because he tossed a nurse down an elevator shaft. Iris shakes her head with a small smile shot my way before she follows suit.
A heavy silence hangs in the air, punctuated only by theoccasional beeping of medical equipment and the hushed footsteps of hospital staff. I see Jeremiah at the end of the hallway, his large frame stuffed in a chair and Oakley standing in front of him, stroking her hand over his head in a calming gesture as he presses his face against her abdomen. I can only imagine what he must have been like before he found her, because from what I’ve seen, she’s the only thing that calms him down.
“Hey,” Oakley says as she approaches, and I realize that Jeremiah is entering Graham’s room again. Attempting to break the somber mood, Oakley asks, “how about we grab some coffee or something? It might help take our minds off things for a minute. What do you say, Reagan?”
I consider the offer, torn between the need for a distraction and the desire to stay close to Penn. Despite our differences—or perhaps because of them—I find myself drawn to him, seeking solace in his presence. As much as I want to put distance between the crushing weight of reality and me, I know where my loyalty lies right now.
