Page 148 of At Her Pleasure
Yes. Don’t do this to me.
The words didn’t make it to his lips, but Tyler’s gaze told him they didn’t have to. Mick swallowed, forced himself to sound casual. He’d eventually talk some sense into Tyler if he played along.
“Why New Orleans?”
Tyler lifted a brow. “Where else would you be? That’s where she is.”
Rubber-soled shoes squeaked to a stop in the waiting room doorway. Mick saw a male doctor standing there. “Jane Doe?” he said without a flicker of irony.
“Yeah.” As Mick closed in on him, the doctor took a wary step back. He wiped the killing look from his face and managed the right tone. Mostly. “Tell me she’s okay.”
“Yes. Bullet’s out and wound is dressed. We were able to convince her to let us do it with anesthesia.” Poise restored, the doctor’s tone suggested that “convincing” had taken slightly more effort than his patient load for the month. “She’s a little out of it, but should be able to leave tonight, which she stressed was her preference.”
An understatement of astounding proportions.
“She’ll need some PT to condition that leg properly during the healing process,” he added, “so we’ll send a copy of her records and our notes with her. She’s in recovery. The nurse will come get you when she’s ready to go.”
“Okay. Thanks, doc. Does she need a wheelchair? Crutches?”
“Probably a cane to give her additional support. You can pick one up at a local pharmacy.” Humor crept into his tired voice. “When she was still under the effects of the anesthesia, she called me a sissy when I asked her if she was comfortable. She also mentioned her birthday is coming up and she expects a strawberry cupcake. With vanilla frosting.”
“Okay.” Mick wanted to smile, but couldn’t. The doctor left him, shoes squeaking across shiny clean tiles.
Tyler cleared his throat. “Mick.”
“I got it,” he said. “Just…let’s talk in a few days. Okay?”
“Okay.” Tyler rose. Mick didn’t turn in his direction. When Tyler put his hand on Mick’s shoulder, he flinched, but the other man didn’t lift it.
“Go home with her, Mick. Take a few days. Take a week, a month. Believe me when I say I know how damn hard it is to change paths from something like this. But it’s what has to happen now. You were reaching the C-4 end of the lit fuse. Deep inside you, you knew.”
His tone hardened. “I know what exit strategy you planned on. Now you have a different one. One I hope to God you’ll realize is better.”
Mick went rigid. Tyler took his hand away, but he wasn’t done. “All these years, you’ve never fixated on one woman. Suddenly, you have. If you don’t recognize that as a message from something bigger than all of us, then you’re already brain dead. No bullet required.”
“Funny,” Mick murmured. Cyn had pointed toward the same thing, to justify how she’d ended up joining him on what Tyler wanted him to believe was his last job.
Fate. It always came back to him serving the Fates. Those heartless, beautiful sadists.
“You know where I am,” Tyler said. “Reach out in a few days and let me know how you’re doing. Whatever you need, you’ve earned all the help I can give you. To follow that new track.” He paused.
“Tell your Mistress I wish her the best. And remind her what I told her about orchid care.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Mick told Cyn he’d drive her home to New Orleans. He wouldn’t say if he was staying. He didn’t say much of anything, though he was solicitous of her every need. He told her the doctor had recommended PT. Jon Forte’s wife and submissive, Rachel, was a physical therapist. Cyn would hit her up and see what exercises she should do.
Mick had given her Tyler’s message about orchid care. She’d been thinking about it a lot, while also thinking about Mick. Last night she’d sent a one-line text to that number Tyler had given her. She wasn’t sure if he’d already discarded the phone attached to it, but she did it anyway.
He's done, isn’t he?
The response came back a half-hour later. Yes. I’ve told him. Tread carefully.
She’d never been fond of being careful. In her experience, it didn’t give her the desired results.
Now she sat in the passenger seat watching Mick drive as she scrolled on her phone. His mind looked like it was a million miles away. But whenever she moved the slightest bit, his attention was on her, making sure she was okay.
She’d finished with her work email some time ago, and had instead been looking for something else. She lifted the screen to show it to him.