King tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. I always thought that gesture to be romantic, but when King does it, it feels almost brotherly. “The only reason I’m not kicking you out on your ass is because you fronted up to Niro forSpark. Guys like us need women like you. Look after him, Iris.” He turns to Niro. “Turn it down so Spark can get some rest.”
Niro opens his mouth to say something but obviously thinks better of it. He drags his phone out of his pocket and lowers the volume. It’s still loud, but the raging bass has been tamed.
“Thank you,” I say to Niro. The words nearly choke me on the way out.
32
SPARK
Iwake slowly and reach for my phone. It’s two in the morning on Monday. For the first time in forty-eight hours, I don’t feel like I’m dying.
My mouth is dry. My sight is blurry but returning in my right eye. My ribs ache something fierce. I manage to roll onto my side and slide my legs out of my bed before placing my feet on the floor. Someone put plaid sleep pants on me.
The world goes a little tilt-and-whirl before I find my center of gravity again.
And then I see her.
Iris is asleep on the floor. She’s found a thick blanket from somewhere, and it’s tucked up under her chin. Her head is on one of my folded-up hoodies.
Memories of the last couple of days come back. She washed me, undressed me, helped me walk to the bathroom. She fed me soup one lunch, I think. And a smoothie. Foods that required minimal effort to eat and digest. But I’ve been so tired, I barely remember her presence in between.
She’s looked after me in a way I don’t deserve given the way I spoke to her. Dark circles beneath her eyes suggest she hasn’t gotten much rest, looking after me and sleeping on the floor. I don’t know why she didn’t climb into bed with me, but I sure as fuck don’t have the strength to pick her up and put her there.
After using the bathroom, I leave her sleeping and shuffle into the bar.
“It’s the walking dead,” King says with a grin. “Good to see you up and about, brother.”
“Feel like I got run over,” I say, my voice so gravelly and hoarse I barely recognize myself.
“Does Nurse Chick know you’re up and about?” Switch asks.
“Nurse Chick?” I can’t help but smile.
King huffs. “Part nurse, part Harley Quinn. Nearly took Niro out, got physical to get him to turn the music down. Vex got a random lecture about us not having a bigger washing machine—he helped her strip the bedding around you because she felt the sheets were grim. Kenzie’s complaining to anyone who’ll listen that Iris attacked her.”
“Which Gwen and Tessa dealt with for Iris. Old ladies sticking together and all that,” Clutch says. There’s a note of pride in his voice.
I don’t remember any of that. “Fuck me. How badly was I out?”
The men laugh. “She chased Track and one of the prospects out of the kitchen while she was trying to make you some smoothie.”
“Which she also convinced me to add some powdered temazepam to, so you’d stay asleep to heal,” Switch adds.
“She drugged me?”
“Technically, I did, because I agreed with her.” Switch shakes his head. “She fought for you. Wish I had me a woman like that.”
I put my palms on the bar and study the cracked linoleum tiles on the floor beneath my feet.
She fought for you.
When I was out and down, she stood over me and made sure I was taken care of and safe, and that knowledge eases my body in a way I wouldn’t have believed possible. Not that my injuries suddenly disappear, but now I feel more capable of handling them.
Because I have Iris.
Suddenly, I’m starving as my body flickers back online. “I need some food.” My brothers follow me to the kitchen like I’m the fucking Pied Piper. I rip open a banana and inhale the damn thing while looking around for something else to eat. “Any of you know why she’s asleep on the floor?”
Switch tips some cereal into a bowl and adds milk. It’s the healthy shit Track eats, with bran and raisins and shit in it. Not my favorite, but I eat it anyway.