Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57099 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57099 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“Prison started my transition into this.” I waved my hand vaguely at my face. “After a couple years, the change took hold and I can’t go back.” I captured her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “They’re part of who I am now. But underneath them, I’m still the man who loves you. Who always has.”
She pulled back slightly, her eyes serious. “We have a lot to work through, Knight. A lot of hurt. And Brynn comes first. Always. So she has to be on board with this. It’s not me you have to worry about. I’ve loved you since I was in the fifth grade. Brynn doesn’t know you. All she knows is that you’ve not been here.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I promised. “One day at a time. I will win Brynn over. Not because I have to win her to have you. Because she’s my daughter and I’m not missin’ another Goddamned thing in her life.”
She nodded, leaning in to place another soft kiss on my lips before stepping out of my arms. “It’s late. I should check on Brynn.”
I understood the dismissal. She’d set a boundary. Probably to test me as much as to give Brynn time to settle. I still wasn’t sure if me not being around was the whole reason she snapped at me. I mean, I didn’t blame her, but I had the feeling that girl carried around some very big feelings with everything happening to her. We couldn’t rush this, not with so much at stake. “Tomorrow, then,” I said, moving toward the balcony door.
“Tomorrow,” she echoed, following me back inside. At the apartment door, she paused, her hand on the knob. “Thank you. For all of this.”
I brushed my knuckles against her cheek one last time. “You don’t have to thank me for doing what I should have been doing all along.”
As I walked back to my apartment across the hall, the weight on my shoulders felt lighter. Nothing was fixed yet. Not by a long shot. But for the first time since finding out about Brynn, I allowed myself to believe that something broken might be mended. Not restored to what it was before. That would be impossible. But I started to believe that something new and stronger could grow from the shattered pieces.
Chapter Eight
Knight
I stared at the wall-mounted monitor, the numbers flashing in harsh red sending a chill down my spine despite the overheated hospital room. Brynn had gotten sick all of a sudden this time. She’d been so weak when we got her here, she went pale when she stood up. Goddamned kid refused to lean on anyone on her way inside, though. She stuck her shoulders back proudly and presented herself to the ER. Of course, me and Lavender had been hot on her heels. Turned out, Brynn’s blood pressure had ticked upward, though the medicine they had her on held it steady for the moment.
We were now three weeks into my donor testing, and her condition had taken a nosedive. Dr. Patel’s carefully composed expression couldn’t hide the gravity of the situation. “Mr. Leahy,” Dr. Patel said, her tablet clutched against her chest like a shield, “we need to accelerate your donor evaluation process.” Her gaze flicked between me and Lavender, who sat rigid in the metal visitor’s chair, knuckles bleached white where she gripped the edge. “Brynn’s facial edema has worsened significantly since yesterday, and these numbers…” She gestured toward the monitor with her pen.
“What does that mean exactly?” My voice came out rougher than I intended. The phlebotomist prepping my arm for yet another blood draw paused, needle hovering.
Dr. Patel’s professional mask slipped just enough to reveal genuine concern. “It means her kidneys are failing faster than we anticipated. The good news is that you’ve passed all big compatibility tests with flying colors. If we push the remaining evaluations through on an emergency schedule, we might complete everything in time to spare Brynn from dialysis.”
I nodded, feeling the pinch as the needle slid into my arm. Another bruise to join the collection of purple-yellow marks trailing up my tattooed skin. I’d lost count of how many times they’d stuck me today alone.
“Whatever you need to do,” I said, keeping my voice steady for Lavender’s benefit. “However fast we can make this happen.”
Lavender made a small sound of distress. She sounded like she might shatter if she fully exhaled. The fluorescent lights overhead cast shadows beneath her eyes, highlighting the exhaustion etched into every line of her face. This last three-day stretch at the hospital had drained her more than the previous weeks at the compound combined.
“They’re waiting to get started on this right now,” the phlebotomist said, her eyes carefully avoiding my gaze. I knew my appearance made some people nervous.
“The psychological evaluation will be this afternoon instead of next week,” she explained. “We’ve already called in the transplant surgeon for an expedited consultation. With luck, we could have you cleared within days rather than weeks.”