Page 64 of Beware of Dog (Lean Dogs Legacy #6)

There was a minute, standing in the bright spring sunshine just outside the hospital’s pneumatic doors, when Shep had to put his hands on his knees and take deep breaths until the spots receded from his vision.

It was three in the afternoon, and birds were twittering in the staked decorative trees, and an orderly was pushing a shriveled old man in a wheelchair, and a baby was crying somewhere, and Cass was still inside, upstairs, conked out on pain killers.

Yesterday he’d gotten married, and today he was going back into the city to kill a guy. Several guys. His lungs were being uncooperative.

A hand landed between his shoulder blades, and he knew it was Devin’s by the size before he spoke.

“There’s no shame in staying, son. It’s perfectly understandable.”

Perfectly understandable . No drill sergeant had ever said something so demeaning to him.

He straightened, and batted Devin away. “Fuck you, man. Bite my ass. I’m going.”

Devin chuckled. “There he is.”

Toly rolled his eyes and plucked the car keys from Devin’s other hand.

They took one of the identical black Rovers in the parking lot, but Shep could tell it was Raven’s thanks to the designer sunglasses clipped to the visor and the Chanel duffel in the back. Shep took shotgun, and Devin climbed in behind him without complaint.

They didn’t go back to the clubhouse, but hit the Interstate and headed straight for the city. Shep had expected to be jittery in his seat, anxious and frustrated by the necessary delay of travel. Instead, it gave him a chance to get his mind straightened out.

Cass was alive. Had come through surgery with flying colors.

She was hurting—she was hurting so bad, and part of that was because he’d left, and he ought to be sitting beside her, helping her sip water and stroking her hair and trying to distract her from the pain—but she was stable.

She was going to recover. She had her sister and her mother, two nurturing women who’d looked after her for her whole life, who were surely better at caring for her than he was, with his dirty mouth and his dirtier thoughts, corrupting her and—

He shoved that thought down hard. It was that or give into it and rip the ring off his finger and throw it out the window in a fit of self-loathing.

He focused instead on what was to come. On what he would need to do—what he’d get to do. This was to be a personal satisfaction, when it was all over.

Toly and Devin talked quietly, unobtrusive background chatter that he tuned out; neither of them addressed him until Toly was parking at the curb in front of the building back home. Then Devin sat forward and touched him again on the shoulder.

“You still with us?”

“Yeah.”

Shep felt…well, not good , he decided, as he climbed out and stretched his stiff legs.

He ached all over, and his eyes and temples throbbed as if he suffered a terrible hangover.

His anguish over Cass sat in his chest, a hot coal lodged right up against his breastbone.

But he felt alert, and eager, and ready for anything, which was the best he could hope for in this situation.

The sun was setting, a matchstick flare peeking between buildings, striking sparks against manhole covers and mesh trash cans. Above it, the clouds pressed low, fat with the promise of rain. When he tipped his head back before they went inside, he saw that the peak of the sky was already black.

All the better for concealing them.

The apartment door opened on the sound of bright laughter, and the savory scent of food cooking.

Pongo was perched on the edge of the recliner, head thrown back, hand to his middle as he cracked up over something.

Fox, Tenny, and Reese were on the sofa, the coffee table in front of them completely covered by guns, and magazines, and knives of all sorts.

Tenny was oiling a gun part with a rag, and glanced up briefly at their entrance.

A big, booming laugh rolled out of the kitchen, where it smelled so good.

Shep stepped fully into the apartment and looked that direction to find Mercy Lécuyer with his hair tied back and his sleeves folded up, spooning something out of a steaming skillet onto the plates laid out on the breakfast bar.

“Bonjour!” he called, as Toly heeled the door shut. “I thought maybe you boys could use a strong hammer hand.” He grinned, and when Shep gaped at him, truly floored, shot him a wink. “Y’all come eat while it’s hot.”

~*~

When Cass woke up properly, and there was pain, but she knew why, and she knew where she was and why she was there, night had fallen beyond the hospital room window.

His eyes felt crusty, but she could see clearly, which meant, when she turned her head on the pillow—and even that small movement sent daggers of pain through her torso—she could see Raven seated in a hard plastic chair in perfect detail.

She was wearing a black and white tracksuit that was decidedly not designer, hair tied up on top of her head, and glanced up from her phone when Cass’s hair rustled on the pillow.

“You look terrible,” Cass said, and she did. Sleepless bruises under her eyes, skin too-pale where her makeup had smudged off, lips dry and bloodless. But she also looked beautiful, because she was Raven Blake, and because she was here .

Raven tipped her head, narrowed her eyes in a mock scowl, and then her tired face collapsed into a smile. “Hello, love. How do you feel?”

Cass shifted on the bed, then thought better of it, biting her lip until the worst of the sharp pain receded. “Like I got shot.”

Raven lifted and waggled two fingers. “Twice, even.”

“Damn.”

“Quite.” She pocketed her phone, stood, and came to perch on the edge of the bed.

Up close, it became evident that she’d washed her face here at the hospital, and hadn’t managed to get all of her mascara off.

She rested her hand over Cass’s forearm, just below the IV line plugged at her inner elbow.

Cass swallowed with difficulty; her dry-throated gulp must have ben audible, because Raven fetched the cup and pitcher and straw off the bedside table and helped her drink. “Small sips, now.”

Cass wanted to gulp it all down and ask for more, but did as instructed. After, she said, “Where’s Mum?”

Raven cocked a brow, like she’d expected a different question.

“I put her up at the nearest hotel, actually. She’s watching Nat for me and I promised to call her with any updates.”

“You left the baby with her?”

“She’s a bit emotional right now, but she’s not incompetent.”

“Is anyone on guard duty?”

“Listen to you: an old lady less than forty-eight hours and worrying about Lean Dog business.”

“Raven,” Cass pleaded, and was swamped with the urge to cry.

Raven gave her arm a brisk, comforting rub. “I know, I’m sorry. Miles and Tommy are with her.”

Cass let out a deep breath that sparked pain in every part of her chest. “What about…where’s Shep? He went back to the city, didn’t he? Is he…he’s going to…”

“Easy.” Raven laid her hand on her shoulder, and Cass realized she was halfway to hyperventilating, and that it was a very bad idea given the way her torso lit up like one of those lightning balls they sold at the museum gift shop.

“Take it easy,” Raven said, and actually shushed her, as though she were a small child.

It was more comforting than Cass would ever admit.

She swallowed, and got her breath back, so to speak. “He’s going to do something stupid.”

“Oh, darling.” Raven brushed her hair back, and it felt nothing like when Shep did it, with her long, manicured nails, and her soft fingertips, but it was still a loving gesture that warmed her. “Save for marrying you, everything that man does is stupid.”

Cass snorted, and then regretted it. Her hand was floppy, but she was able to lift it, and press it to her sternum with a groan.

“Careful of your bandages,” Raven cautioned.

She could feel them under her gown, thick swaths of them. When she twisted her shoulders a fraction—fucking ow—she felt their tension over her clavicles and around her back, halfway down her ribs.

What little talking and moving she’d managed had exhausted her. Her eyelids grew heavy again, and she looked up at her sister. “Raven,” she said, a helpless plea.

“I know,” Raven said with a sigh, fiddling with the blankets, smoothing them out across Cass’s chest. “You’ve every right to be worried.

I’m worried. Toly went with them. God, it’s like we’re war wives together.

” She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

Put on a brave, big sister sort of face.

“But Toly went to Louisiana to help Mercy three years ago, and he came back just fine. Albeit with a new loathing of boats, but. He did what was needed and came home to me. We’ve always known this about the club, that it demands frightening and dangerous things of its men. ”

Tears welled in Cass’s eyes, blurring her vision, but she said, “Yeah,” as she scrubbed them away with a clumsy fist. “I know.”

“There’s nothing in this world Shep wants more than to come back to you.”

“You know him that well, then?” She sounded petulant, but thought she could be excused this once, on account of being shot and bedridden.

“I do. And so do you,” Raven said, and waited until Cass made eye contact to give a firm nod.

Cass nodded back, though it hurt to do so.

“Now,” Raven said, brisk, and reached for the TV remote on the nightstand. “Let’s find something abominably trashy to watch, shall we?”