Thirty Nights with a Dirty Boy: Part 3: A Heroes and Heartbreakers Serial Read online

  Sean started to curse, interrupting me.

  “Damn it, would you talk to me?” I shouted at him.

  His eyes came back to mine, and he stopped in mid-sentence. I couldn’t even translate what he’d been saying just then. It was either a different language altogether or one of those euphemisms so completely Scottish, it made no sense to anybody else.

  “We didn’t use anything,” I said again.

  “So you said.” He shoved the heel of his hand against his eye, as if he had a pounding headache he had to drive back.

  I could sympathize. But my headache was rapidly developing a name. “I’ve never been with anybody,” I said, my voice shaking. “Do I need to…”

  “Ella, I’m clean.” He sounded tired. He shot me a narrow look. “Trust me, I’m clean.”

  My breath expelled out of my lungs in a sudden rush, jump-starting that crucial process of delivering oxygen to my body, and I swallowed. “Okay. Um … okay, there’s … ah…”

  “I’m clean,” he said again, voice edgy. “I never forget to glove up. I get tested every bloody month. It’s pretty much survival in my … line of work. Last test was two days before I signed your fucking contract, and I hadn’t been with another client for a few days. There’s only one other thing to worry about.”

  “You never forget to glove up? You can’t really say never here.”

  Sean’s pale eyes flashed.

  “Shit, I’m sorry. Just … just give me a minute.” Shaken, I took a deep breath and forced the panic down. It wasn’t that hard. Compared to everything else I had to panic over, this was … well, minor. I wouldn’t get pregnant. I’d been on the pill since I was sixteen. My periods hadn’t started until I was fifteen, and even then, they’d been irregular. Forcing myself to breathe, I said quietly, “I’m … I have to take the pill. But—” I stopped and sniffled, my throat going thick as the emotion and weight of the past few hours caught up to me.

  He brushed his fingers down my arm. “Ella, it will be okay.” I didn’t want soft, kind words from him. Okay? Nothing about this felt okay. But I could feel him watching me with all too aware eyes, and I gave him a halting nod. Whatever was necessary to get him out of here.

  His phone started to ring. The tune was “Brown-Eyed Girl,” and it came out sounding too cheery and out of place. He shot me a look as he pulled his phone out. “It’s the hospital,” he said, his voice tight. “That’s … it’s the ring I use for the hospital … for…”

  “Darla,” I whispered. “I know about your sister.”

  “Yeah.” He hit the answer button. “Trust me, I’m aware.”

  I didn’t bother to ask how. Darla must have said something. As he took the call, I sat there in silence, excruciatingly aware of the dampness between my thighs and so many other things.

  Huddling against the door, I listened to a one-sided conversation—well, two-sided, since I heard most of what was being said. I even recognized the voice. It was Judith, the social worker from the hospital. We’d smacked heads before. We’d done it over Sean’s sister, even.

  “You … no, listen, you can’t do that. Her immune system … fu … please. Will ya just wait?” Sean’s voice was pleading.

  I shifted my gaze to him from under my lashes. A clenched fist rested on the steering wheel, his jaw tight. “Yeah, yeah … look, I’ll be there soon. Yes, I know. Just … please, ma’am. If you’d do what you can. I know, I know…”

  He ended the call and shot me a look. “I need to get to the hospital. It will take a good hour or more on my own.”

  He wouldn’t ask.

  “Go ahead,” I said quietly, reaching for my seat belt. “It’s about Darla, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” He glanced at me. “You two, right friends, aren’t you?”

  I looked out the window as he peeled away from the curb.

  “She kept talking about this fine lady she’d met. Brought her some nice things.” His voice was thick with something I couldn’t understand. “Never even thought … how could I? Plenty of rich ladies in Chicago, aren’t there?”

  Instead of responding, I dug my phone out of my purse and sent a text to the house.

  Chapter 2

  “Stable.” Sean said the word slowly, as if he didn’t entirely understand what it meant. After a moment, he asked, “Does that mean she’s in remission? I’m thinking not. She’s not even close, is she? How many rounds of chemo does she have left? She gets sick every damn time.”

  I stood off to the side and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. Considering I was texting one of the lawyers I’d hired to help with Nora’s Door pretty much nonstop, I don’t know how unobtrusive I actually was. At least I had clean clothes. I’d managed to wash up before the doctor got here, thanks to the bag Paul, my driver, had brought me. I’d texted him as we pulled away from Sean’s apartment, and Paul had been here waiting for me.

  I still had the scent of Sean’s body clinging to mine, but changing into clean, unwrinkled clothes and putting a rag to judicious use made me feel a little more focused.

  There’s a doctor here. The girl is sick, in the care of the state.

  I sent the text as I looked up at the doctor, waiting for his answer.

  “No.” The doctor gave Sean a polite smile. He hadn’t even looked at me. Judith Davidson, the social worker I’d met the same day Darla and I had almost knocked each other over, was there as well, and she kept shooting Sean and me speculative glances. Feeling her eyes again, I turned my head and stared at her—hard—until she busied herself with her tablet.

  She has cancer …

  I kept it short, summing up what I thought was going on, and sent the text just in time to see Judith studying Sean and me again.

  I guess there were rumors abounding about just what Sean did.

  I shouldn’t be surprised.

  “So she will keep coming in for treatment,” Sean said, “while she’s staying in the group home? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Of course.” The doctor checked his watch. “Look, I understand you’re concerned, but I’ve managed cases like your sister’s often. She’ll do fine outside of the hospital.”

  They’re discharging her. She’s stable, but she has to keep getting chemo. She lives in a group home. She’s going to be around so many germs. What if she gets sick again?

  “She’s in a group home. Surrounded by people. Her immune system is shot. How likely is she to stay healthy there?”

  My phone buzzed as the lawyer sent several answers back in a row.

  Why is she with the state?

  Any family?

  If the doctor is thinking she is stable, there might not be much to do—what kind of cancer?

  “We can’t continue to keep her in the hospital when she doesn’t require that level of care.” The doctor looked over at Judith and arched a brow.

  She gave Sean a polite smile. “We’ve got an excellent plan of care worked out, and I’ve been in contact with your sister’s social worker.”

  I continued my conversation with the lawyer and tried to keep up with theirs.

  “Nobody’s been in contact with me.” Sean jabbed a thumb at his chest.

  The girl’s brother is very strongly against this. It doesn’t seem wise to me, either.

  “You’re not your sister’s guardian.”

  I grimaced as the predicted questions started. —Why wasn’t the brother the guardian? What were the circumstances …

  “I damn well ought to be,” he snapped. “I wouldn’t be havin’ her in a place where she’ll be surrounded by people who don’t even wash their hands half of the time. I’ve been to see her at the home, and it’s a bloody mess.”

  “Arrangements will be made—”

  If the group home can be made to seem less than ideal, what are the other options?

  Sean made a disgusted noise under his breath.

  We can’t force them to keep anybody in the hospital. It could be possible to push the issue that the girl goes
to a family and not a home. Does the brother want guardianship?

  Well, that was a given.

  I fired back a yes just as Sean shoved himself up into the doctor’s face. “You think I trust any arrangements the state makes? Those clowns at the home gave her the wrong medicine for two weeks runnin’!”

  I rested a hand on his arm.

  “What about a foster parent?” I asked, fighting to keep my voice level.

  Judith’s gaze slid to mine, as did the doctor’s. He spoke first. “Ma’am, it’s unlikely we’d find somebody who’d be able to take on a foster child with the special needs that Darla is going to require, not before it’s time to discharge her.”

  “I could.”

  Sean stiffened.

  I didn’t let myself look at him.

  Judith made a sputtering noise but I ignored her. “Perhaps I should introduce myself. My name is Ella Cruise.”

  His lids flickered. I wasn’t surprised. Most of the doctors on staff at any given hospital hear about it when endowments are made—and I’d made several to the local area hospitals.

  “Ms. Cruise, I understand you’ve taken an interest in Darla, but this isn’t a hobby,” Judith said, finally managing to get past her shock.

  “A child is never a hobby.” Annoyed, I looked over at her. “Nor should she be shuttled out of the way simply because it’s convenient.”

  “Ella.” Sean’s voice was tight.

  I shot him a look. A mask had fallen over his eyes, and I couldn’t see beyond it. “If she goes to a home, she’ll end up getting sick again, won’t she? That’s what you’re worried about.”

  “It’s not your worry.” His jaw went tight as he looked over at the two others standing in the office with us.

  “I … Sean.” Let me help …

  “No.” He shook his head and turned around. But just before he pushed through the door, he looked back at the doctor. “You lot are always scared of lawsuits, yeah? If she ends up sick with something that could have been avoided, you can bet your arse I’ll find a lawyer who’ll take you apart in court—you, this whole fucking hospital. There should be a better choice than sending her to a group home. You know it even if you won’t say it.”

  The door shut behind him.

  “Is there?” I asked.

  The doctor looked at me, confused. “Is there what?”

  “Is there a better choice for her than a group home?”

  “Her lack of resources are a serious barrier,” he said grimly.

  Sean was right. I could see it in the man’s eyes.

  “She doesn’t have a lack of resources. Consider her resources … almost limitless. Now what are her options?” When he didn’t answer, I looked at Judith. “Should I go over your head?”

  “Perhaps you should speak to her brother.”

  “As you already pointed out, he’s not her guardian.”

  * * *

  I had a quick, hurried conversation with the lawyer. It turned out I’d been texting back and forth with Wilbur Colfax, the senior lawyer I’d hired to help with Nora’s Door. We’d be needing all sorts of legal help, not to mention social workers and counselors … the list was endless.

  Collie, as he preferred to be called, told me he was already making calls. Since he was no longer working in the area, he would not be able to help directly, but he still knew some people. After agreeing to keep things between us, he listened while I gave him the rundown.

  When I got to the part about Sean’s … lifestyle, he made a low noise and spoke for the first time. “That’s going to be an obstacle, Ms. Cruise.”

  “I know.”

  “He needs a job. A legit one.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I … just do what you can. If she goes into a home, who knows how sick she’ll end up.”

  “I’ll start making calls.”

  “Thank you.” I disconnected the call and put the phone in my pocket before adjusting the straps of the bag and purse I was carrying.

  I found Sean in the garage.

  He was having a conversation of his own.

  “What do you mean, there’s nothing we can do right now … don’t you … yeah, yeah.”

  I followed the sound of his voice and found him leaning against the back of my car. His gaze flicked to mine, then away, as he continued talking on the phone. Most of the conversation was monosyllabic now, and his expression got darker and stormier with every passing moment.

  When the call ended a couple of minutes later, he turned away from me and braced his hands on the trunk of my car, shoulders bowed.

  To me, he looked like the weight of the world had been dropped on him.

  “Was that your lawyer?” I asked.

  “Yeah. I’m fucked. Darla and me, both of us. She’ll have to go back to the home.”

  “Maybe the social worker at the hospital will find another option.” I said nothing about my call to Collie. In case it didn’t work out, I didn’t want to get his hopes up. And if he decided he didn’t want help … well, too bad. He was getting it anyway.

  “Yeah, like something good could happen for once.” He shoved away from the car and turned to look at me. His eyes softened as he studied my face, and for the first time since I’d brought that ugliness between us, there was no apathy when he looked at me. “It’s lovely, what you tried to do. But Darla’s my responsibility, even if the fucking government won’t acknowledge that.”

  “What do you have to do to get custody?”

  His mouth twisted. “Stop being a whore.” He shrugged. “I’ve never been charged, but the speculation is there. Combine that with the fact that I don’t really hold a regular job, I have no diploma. I got my GED a few years back, but that doesn’t impress people overmuch. My skill set is terribly limited, what can I say?”

  “You’re not giving yourself enough credit.” I shot for a smile and managed one that didn’t feel too out of place. “Just what is it—well, besides the obvious—that you’re good at?”

  “Besides the obvious, eh, Your Highness?” He cocked a brow.

  The teasing nickname brought a knot to my throat. “Yes. Besides that.”

  “I’m the best fucking lay you’ll ever have. Isn’t that good enough?” He sighed and leaned back against the trunk of my car.

  I moved to join him. “I’m serious. You want to take care of your sister. You should be able to … but you’re right. As long as you have sex for money…”

  “Trying to reform me.” He made a tsk-ing sound under his breath. “You females. The lot of you, always trying to do it.”

  “Sean…”

  “I’m quite serious, y’know. I’m decent with a few things, good at a little less, and absolutely excellent at only two. You already guessed one of them.”

  “Well. I didn’t exactly guess.” I made a practice of studying the toes of the shoes Paul had brought to replace mine. Solid, sensible boots. My feet were snuggly warm inside them. “But that still doesn’t answer my question.”

  “Not really what I want to discuss, pet.” He sighed and tipped his head back, staring up at the parking garage’s stone-gray ceiling.

  “Indulge me.”

  He huffed out a breath. “I’m decent with cars, but most places want a certification, so that’s out. I’m a good bartender, but if I’m dealing with a kid, working late nights…? Yeah, that won’t impress people much. I’ve been trying to find a place, but not too many people want anything to do with me.” His lip curled in a sardonic smile. “My reputation has preceded me.”

  I arched a brow.

  “I can say that the bedroom isn’t the only place I’m a genius.”

  Curious, I studied him.

  A bit of a smile twisted his lips. “Put me in the kitchen, love, and I’ll surprise the hell out of you. I know I did a bit of a fry-up that day we…” His voice trailed off and he looked away.

  How strange was it that we couldn’t seem to talk now. Before, everything had been so easy.

  “An
yway, I’m a terror in the kitchen. Too bad I couldn’t find a job where they actually paid something decent to do that.”

  Chapter 3

  “You have a guest.”

  It was almost ten o’clock. Looking over my shoulder, I saw Alice standing in the doorway, still dressed, her hair neatly pinned up. The only concession she’d made to the late hour was that she’d taken her shoes off. Alice had been running my household for almost as long as I could remember.

  Now, the older woman looked at me with a raised brow and a bit of a smile on her lips.

  I looked past her as if that would tell me who my guest was.

  “I’m not expecting anybody.”

  “You never expect anybody, sweetheart.” She waited a moment. “Are you able to receive company?”

  There was a bit of a glint in her eyes that had my belly tightening. Sliding off the couch, I glanced down at myself. I’d changed out of the dress I’d worn to the office that day and pulled on yoga pants with a blue shirt. The shirt had a wide neckline that fell off one shoulder. I hadn’t put a bra on.

  I probably should do that.

  “Ah…”

  A shadow fell across the floor behind Alice. Swallowing, I slid my gaze over and looked right into Sean Lachlan’s eyes.

  I hadn’t seen him in two days. I hadn’t heard from him. I hadn’t tried to call.

  I’d stayed in touch with Collie, though. Collie had reached out, he told me, and gotten in touch with a friend who’d decided to speak with Sean. He was taking Sean’s case pro bono, and the very first thing the lawyer had done was demand the girl be seen by another specialist. As her brother didn’t have custody, and the state was insisting that she didn’t need to stay in the hospital … well, Collie had been pleased with the turn of events.

  They were keeping Darla a few more days while another pediatric oncologist took a look at her labs and came in to speak with her. There was also going to be an extensive evaluation of the home they proposed sending her to.

  “It bought them some time, and we’re going to push to find someplace where she won’t be surrounded by other kids, if that’s the best we can do while we try to get the situation with Mr. Lachlan straightened out.”