Page 65 of Beyond Rosy Irish Twilight

Finally, I opened my mouth and allowed him to shove the food inside. I still didn’t want to eat, but at least this time it didn’t taste like sawdust. I chewed willingly as he scooped some up and took his own bite.

“Are you going to feed me too?” Chase asked.

“Fuck off. You don’t get this yet,” Asher grumbled.

“It’s not fucking fair. I’m a man. I need actual food. I’ve been living on IVs and broth for days. I’m going to wither away into nothing.”

I opened my mouth again as Asher brought another bite to my mouth. I was so distracted by their banter that I didn’t really realize I was no longer fighting Asher on feeding me.

“If you had just done something smart, like not get hit in the fucking chest by a bullet, you would have been fine.”

“Yeah, because I was purposely becoming a target.”

“I saw you fucking stand up. You know better.”

He jabbed a finger in Asher’s direction. “I don’t have to take this crap from you. I fucking saved your life.”

Asher snorted. “You saved the next bullet for me. Yeah, congratulations are definitely in order.”

“Hey, at least I was out there with you. Patrick sat in the car like a baby, whining over a shoulder wound. He fucking passed out!”

I wiped at my mouth, fascinated by the banter back and forth. It wasn’t like they were really harassing each other. And I knew for certain neither of them blamed Patrick. Still, it was the oddest thing to witness. All my father’s employees wouldn’t dare talk to each other like this, let alone to the boss. My father would pull out a gun and shoot them on the spot, even his second. There was no talking back or joking. There was only business.

“That was really good,” Asher sighed, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes.

“Any chance you have a crane to get us upstairs?” Chase joked. “Not sure either of us on the stairs is a good option.”

“We should install an elevator.”

“Or a dumbwaiter. At least we could sit in that. We could have Lock work the pulleys.”

“Or we could just sleep out here,” Asher suggested. “It’s definitely better than sleeping in the fucking sand.”

I frowned as my gaze locked on his. “You’ve slept in sand before?”

“Military,” he grunted.

Again, with the military. I was beginning to wonder about these guys. If they were all former military, why were they basically thugs working against everything they fought for? It didn’t make sense. And I was about to ask that when Chase started to push up from his chair rather unsuccessfully.

I quickly got off Asher’s knee and rushed to Chase’s side. “You definitely shouldn’t be down here yet.”

“Me?” he laughed, but pain riddled the single word. “I’m good as can be. Besides, laying in a fucking bed all day isn’t doing me any good.”

“Neither is tearing your stitches. You don’t get them out for like another seven days.”

He stood to his full height and tried to pretend like that little movement hadn’t winded him, but the beads of sweat on his forehead gave him away.

I glanced over to Asher. “You stay there until I get him settled.”

“I can get myself around.”

I knew he could, but I would feel better knowing he waited for me. “Please,” I said, trying to not sound too demanding.

At the softness of my tone, his eyes seemed to smile at me. “Sure, I’ll be right here.”

I started inside with Chase. Granted, we were moving at a pretty slow pace, but we finally made it to the door. Patrick was waiting for me, pulling the door open.

“I’ll take it from here. You’ll never get him upstairs on your own.”

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