Page 67 of Resilient Rhythms
She’s fidgety. On edge.
And I want to track Bran down and put him to the ground for causing Mckenna pain again. For making her relive shit she was moving past. For giving her new hurts on top of old traumas.
On the inside, I’m seething. My blood is running so hot, my vision holds a glint of red.
But on the outside, I force myself to act cool. To stay calm. To be the man Mckenna needs me to be. One who shows up for her, who makes sure she knows that she’s in fucking control, and who goes to bat for her regardless of whatever choice she makes. Or doesn’t make.
Nothing matters except her and right now, I want her to know that.
“You can come home with me,” Mr. Byrne offers.
We’re clustered around her hospital bed waiting for her final discharge papers to come through so we can leave this godforsaken place. The doctor kept Mckenna in the hospitalovernight and I hated every second of being in the brownstone without her.
Her eyes flicker to me, navy and shaded with emotions I can’t read.
My hands curl into fists. Does she want to go home with her dad? Does she want to come home with me?
Fuck, I don’t want to let her out of my sight. But I’m fighting my natural tendency to bulldoze and throw a tantrum to get my way. Or, worse, to make decisions for her.
I stare back, waiting for her to clue me into her thoughts.
What do you want, Mckenna?
I’ll do anything for you, beauty.
She clears her throat. Jeannie shoots me a knowing look.
Fuck. Why can’t I read girl code?
Mr. Byrne tilts his head closer to his daughter, waiting for her response to his offer.
“You can also come home with me,” I speak up. “We’re practically living together in the brownstone and there, you’ll be comfortable, with all of your things.”
Jeannie grins. Mckenna’s eyes lighten.
Jeannie nods enthusiastically. “I think that makes the most sense. Good thinking, Mav. What do you think, Kenny?”
Mckenna nods slowly, her expression thoughtful. For a heartbeat, her hand drops to her stomach and an expression I can’t read crosses her face. But then, she shakes her head and her eyes clear.
I step closer to her bedside and lean down to brush a kiss over her cheek. “I got you, beauty.”
She pulls in a breath and I hate that it’s shaky.
Does my proximity make her nervous now? Did Bran’s attack tangle up her thoughts to the point where she’s unsure about me? About us?
Easing back, I shuffle away half a step and turn to Mr. Byrne. “I’ll take good care of her, Mr. Byrne.”
“I know you will, Maverick.” He stares at me, his gaze assessing. “And I think it’s time you call me Brian.”
I hear Mckenna suck in a breath, but I don’t turn around.
Mr. Byrne’s—Brian’s—acceptance hits me hard. Maybe it’s because I’m still shuffling through my fucked-up shit from Big Jim, but this man entrusting me with his daughter’s safety, extending an olive branch and accepting me as part of his circle, means more than he understands.
I clear my throat. “Thank you, sir. Brian.”
He smiles. “Thank you, Mav.”
“All right,” Kimberly says, sweeping into the room. “You’re all set to go home.” She glances up from her clipboard, her eyes darting from Jeannie to Brian to me. “Mckenna will need some caretaking and?—”
