me a smirk as he settled onto his pallet on the floor.
“Bigger bed,” Archie told me. “That’s on the list this weekend.”
I groaned but nodded. At this point, we needed to do a lot of things.
Jake and Ian both had ice packs on, and I was torn between looking at one or the other. When Ian let out a little hiss as he laid down, I studied the bruises forming on his chest. More than one fist had struck him, and I was pretty sure there was a kick mark or two in there.
“Stop worrying,” Ian insisted with a slow exhale. “Cracked ribs are not fun, but there’s nothing I can do for them.”
I winced. “You’re sure they’re only cracked?” My irritated cats had all been fed, and they’d already settled in different spots around the room. I tried to roll onto my side. The stupid cast made that tricky. Jake caught my hip gently and turned me until my back pressed against his chest and I could face Ian more easily.
“Mom checked, Angel,” Ian promised me, pressing a finger to my lips when I opened them to argue. “She checked. The medic checked. They’re cracked. They’re sore. I’ll live. I’d take every damn one again if it meant I got between those bastards and you.”
My heart squeezed, then I slid my hand over his and kissed his fingers. He tangled our fingers together and smiled.
“Now go to sleep. The bruises under your eyes have bruises.”
“Are you saying I need my beauty sleep?” The tease came a little more easily, so many of the hastily erected stones in the wall between us crumbling away. Even if he’d been there, I’d missed this. The ease of talking to him, of playing, and not worrying if I was saying the wrong thing. Worse, if I was scared to say something because it still hurt.
“Nah, you’re gorgeous,” he said, his one open eye twinkling. “Jake, on the other hand…” He just sighed.
“Not enough sleep in the world to make him beautiful,” Coop said in a half-asleep voice. Jake shifted next to me and there was a thump. “Ow.” Coop deadpanned. Then chuckled. “My pillow now.”
“Keep it,” Jake muttered and tucked his face against me. “I’m sharing Frankie’s.”
I smiled, and Ian gave my fingers a squeeze, though his smile looked more like a grimace. His poor face. “Stop,” he whispered. “Go to sleep. I’ll be fine.”
Even closing my eyes, I remained aware of them. Aware of Jake’s hand on my hip, the soft brush of his breathing evening out, the steady thump of Ian’s heart under my hand where he tucked my palm against his chest, the gentle snore from Archie, he’d dropped off so fast and likely deep, and Coop’s half-muttered groan that told me he was stretching before he settled into quiet.
I was aware of all of them.
No way I would go to sleep, despite how tired I was. I didn’t want to miss a moment of this. Miss them.
It wasn’t until I opened gritty eyes hours later to a room dappled half in shadow because the blinds were still closed that I even realized I had gone to sleep.
The room was quiet, I lay there for a moment, trying to get my bearings. I needed to pee in the worst way. Even my teeth ached. The bed behind me was empty. Jake had to have gotten up. Ian was still asleep in front of me. His poor face was really black and blue. Puffy and tender looking. It made my heart ache.
I should get up and get him another ice pack. Maybe offer him one of my pain meds. He wasn’t sleeping facing me anymore, but lying on his back. I eased upward, trying not to jostle him.
The pallets on the floor were both folded up, the blankets and pillows stacked in the corner. Even the cats were absent. I bit my lip as I glanced back down at Ian. It looked so much worse than it had the night before.
Fuck Mitch and his friends.
With care, I bent down and brushed my lips to his forehead. My bladder protested, and I forced myself to slide out of the bed. Oh, my back let me know it hated me. So did my hip. My shoulder apparently joined the Frankie sucks club, because it throbbed a little with each halting step I took. Fuck, I was walking like I was eighty not almost eighteen.