“Aren’t you?” his buddy countered, eyebrow cocked. “I lucked out and your little stunt got me the day off. Thanks for that. I definitely got the better end of this deal, bro.”

Bastard. “What’d you tell Steve?” Not that he really needed to ask—he could hear their boss’s voice loud and clear, “Way to waste my time and money, Nelson. You know who pays your insurance policy, right?”

“Told him that you fell down some stairs and rolled into a truck. I mean, it’s not entirely a lie.” Sam shrugged and Brody laughed, which hurt like a mother. Shouldn’t Martha be back by now?

Sam kicked back in the chair, ankles crossed. “So, you feel better now? Worked that poison out of your system?”

Probably not. “Guess we’ll see.”

“You ever plan on telling your folks about the PTSD? They’ll probably be here any time now. You might want to put some thought into how you’re going to explain this.”

So Sam had called them. Damn. In the back of his mind, he’d kinda hoped Jenny would be the only other person to hear about this. “What’s to explain? I got my ass kicked. Not the first time it’s happened. Probably won’t be the last.”

Sam laughed. “What’s so bad about just telling them the truth? Maybe that’s what you need. Get it all out and wipe the slate clean.”

If it were that simple, he would have done it months ago. “Didn’t work that way with Jenn,” he grumbled, wishing the death metal band in his head would take a smoke break.

“Worked for a little while.”

“Not really.”

“You’re full of shit. You were right there—right friggin’ there—until your granddad passed.” Sam squeezed his fingers together, then threw his arm in the air. “Then poof. Back to the miserable, pissed-off-at-the-world son-of-a-bitch just like that.”

Brody shook his head, but stopped when the room began to spin and the tender area beneath his stitches started to throb more reverently. “Not pissed at the world, dude—just myself.”

“Why? You said yourself that he was gone before you even got to him. Aneurysms don’t wait around for heroes, man. It was his time and you know damn well he’d say the same thing if he were here right now. Same with Ernie and Troy. Same with you if one of those guys would have actually wanted to fuck you up last night.”

Nothing to argue on that last point. He’d long ago accepted the fact that if he went, he went. The guy upstairs was in charge of that, not him. That’s why he never had a problem shipping out to parts unknown, with God only knew what in store. There were some things in life you could control, and some you couldn’t.

“Ah, Mr. Conrad, you snuck in on me.” Martha sashayed back into the room with a little medicine cup full of pills. “I’m afraid I’m going to have ask you to step out. Mr. Nelson has other visitors.”

His parents. Shit, this wasn’t going to go well. His mother would freak out the second she saw him. “I need a couple minutes,” Brody spoke up, trying to sit a little straighter in bed to no avail.

Sam gave a salute and walked out, and Martha helped him down the pills before she propped another pillow behind his back.

“You ready for this?” she asked kindly.

“Not really, but it’s inevitable.” And something he hadn’t thought about last night, though he should have. Of course his folks would rush down after Sam called. He’d acted like a dumb ass, but he was still alive. They still had a son. He still had them.

Martha smiled and gave his blanket a quick straighten before she headed out again. “By the way, she’s a very pretty girl.”

Brody frowned. “Who?”

“Your girlfriend.”

Ah, hell.

***

Jenny jumped up from a chair when Sam stepped inside the waiting room. “Thought you weren’t coming, lil’ mama.”

“So I lied. Is he awake yet?” She wrung her hands together, sure she’d jump out of her too-tight skin any second now. Since leaving River Bend, her emotions had run the gamut...and then again because nine hours was a long time to drive all alone.

“Yeah, they had him on morphine so he could sleep, but he’s coming around now. He looks like hell, but he’s still the same stubborn ass he’s always been, so I guess that’s a good sign. The concussion is confirmed and they want to keep him for observation. Make sure there isn’t any cranial swelling from the gash he’s got. You’ll see it. It’s real fucking pretty.” He narrowed his eyes and shook a finger at her. “I like you. You’re good for him.”

“If only he would accept that.” She shot an anxious glance at the hallway.

“Go on. But don’t say I didn’t warn—”

She was gone before he finished talking.

***

She floated into the room looking like an angel dressed in a flowing, long-sleeved white top and pale pink leggings that matched her swollen eyes. It broke his fucking heart that he’d caused them, but he couldn’t look away because this girl was, hands down, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

She was his fucking everything. And she was here. For him.

Hand over her mouth, she cried the second she saw him. His chest constricted, watching her face contort and, if he could have, he’d have been out that bed in a second, pulling her close and promising he’d never let her go again. For a split second, he thought maybe it wasn’t so impossible, because just seeing her...damn. Breathing was easier, the pain pulsing through his head suddenly didn’t seem so bad, and he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe last night wasn’t a mistake because it had ultimately brought her back to him.

“Sugar...” he rasped, his hands shaking with the overwhelming need to soothe away her pain. “Aw, baby, don’t cry.”

She shook her head and stared, taking him in from head to toe with damp eyes. He could only imagine what she saw. “Look at you. My God, Brody, why?”

He lifted a fist, then let it drop, hitting his thigh hard. He couldn’t make excuses with Jenny. She’d see through every one of them and, more than that, he didn’t want to lie to her. Not again. “Seemed like a like a good idea at the time.”

“Only you would think getting beat up would be a good idea.” She came closer, lingering at the foot of the bed. Reluctant because of how awful he looked or because he’d been an ass the last time they’d seen each other?

“Thought I told you not to come.” He swallowed and reached for his water. If he couldn’t touch her, he’d need to keep his hands busy. He might do something stupid otherwise. Like climb off that damn bed, let down the hair piled on top of her head and slide his fingers through it just to reassure himself she was really here and not just a concussed hallucination.

“Decided I didn’t want to play by your rules anymore.” She studied his face again and all he could do was sit there and let her see how broken he was. He was supposed to be her protector, not the one she continually went to battle for.

The feeling wasn’t unfamiliar. Hell, hadn’t he always felt that way with Jenny? A contradictory mix of both responsibility and vulnerability that confused the hell out of him at the same time it grounded him.

“You drove all night,” he said stupidly, for the sake of saying something to distract himself from the obvious—pushing Jenny out of his life was never going to work for him.

She nodded and self-consciously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I haven’t slept. I’m sure I look awful.”

Awful? Was she serious? “You’re fucking beautiful. Always. God, babe, come here already, will you?”

Her brow creased and she cocked her head to the side, looking at him beneath heavy eyelids. “Brody, listen, I meant what I said last night. I’m not sure if you remember or not, but—”

“You love me.” He beat her to the punch. The memory of her saying those sweet words had been on repeat in his head since they’d spilled off her lips. His new all-time favorite song.

She bit her trembling lips together and nodded. “I love you. Because of that, I can’t let you do this alone anymore. I know you think you have to—”