Page 125 of Broken Daddy

He cleared his throat. He could feel his body begging him for some sleep. He’d sat in the chair next to her bed all night, thinking about how best to protect her. And what the fuck he was going to do about Freddy Mars.

In his younger years, he’d barely needed any sleep. Now, it was a bit harder to function.

“Baby, are you worried about something?”

That was probably a stupid question. Of course she was worrying about things.

“Hmm? Oh sorry. I just . . . I’m thinking about . . . everything.”

“Thinking or worrying?” he asked.

“Both?” she said with a shrug. She wasn’t herself, but that was to be expected. Still, he was concerned by how exhausted she sounded.

How very unlike Devi.

“What’s your biggest worry?” he asked.

Hayes had concerns of his own. The first one was her safety. He didn’t trust the cops to find these gang members. But Donovan, Dominic, Kent, and Liam were all here. So for the moment, she was safe. Dominic was guarding Gwen as she tore through the police force. Liam was watching the trailer, ready to clear it out once the cops let them in. Donovan had packed up their stuff and was going to help Liam while Kent was his back-up here.

His second worry was her health. Physical and mental. He wanted to ensure she wasn’t in pain and that she had the best care possible. He wanted her to get full use of her arm back so she could return to what she loved. Her pottery.

That reminded him he needed to talk to Michelle about this exhibition she had coming up.

“I’m not going to be able to work for a while,” she said. “I guess Aaron fired me, anyway.”

“Yeah. Asshole.”

“Can’t blame him.”

Hayes could.

“I suppose it will be a while before I can go back to work. Mac should find someone else, too. I don’t know how I’m going to earn any money. Or pay the hospital bills.”

Her words didn’t alarm him so much as her tone of voice. She sounded so . . . monotone. As though none of this was really penetrating. Like she didn’t care.

But he knew that it was practically impossible for her not to care. Which meant that this was probably some sort of defense mechanism. A way of protecting herself.

He wished like hell that she didn’t have to do this.

“I’ve already told you not to worry about money,” he told her. “That I will take care of everything. Your main concern is going to be getting better. Rehab and rest.”

Devi turned her head to look at him. “What does that mean? You will take care of everything?”

“I mean that I am going to pay your hospital bill and for anything else that you need.”

He waited for a reaction, but she simply looked mildly curious.

Yeah, this wasn’t his Devi at all.

Fuck. His Devi? Had he really just thought that? What was wrong with him?

God. He didn’t know. He felt so conflicted. He hated seeing her lying in the bed, pale and hurt.

And knowing he hadn’t protected her.

“Baby, are you feeling okay?”

“Feeling okay? Sure. The painkillers are good. I can’t feel any pain.”