Sorcha wanted to cry but stopped herself before a single tear had the chance to fall. It would only make Malcolm feel worse than he already was going to feel once he woke up.
It was hard not to give into the temptation, though.
He looked so pale beneath the myriad of cuts and bruises covering his face. One eye was swollen and the other not too far off. More bruising covered his chest and abdomen. One arm would need casting once the swelling went down and he'd be on crutches for a few weeks as his knee healed from the bruising it sustained.
My fault was the only thought inside her head as she continued to sit by his hospital, her good hand wrapped around the one that trembled even as he lay unconscious, and murmuring soft, nonsensical things to hopefully keep his nightmares at bay.
This is all my fault.
If she and Mandy hadn't drug him out to dinner and drinks — not that any of them had one — he wouldn't be laying here in a hospital bed, beat all to hell, and with weeks of recovery ahead of him.
The hospital door opened and Sorcha looked up as a dark-haired man in a white turtleneck, brown jacket and gray trousers entered. She recognized him from one of the pictures Malcolm kept on a desk in his bedroom.
"Detective Arroyo?"
"Yes." A warm smile curved his lips. "And you must be Sorcha."
"I'm glad you came." She hated how thin and reedy her voice sounded. "I didn't know who else to call."
"I'm glad you called me." He approached the bed. "How is he?" Tears welled again. Sorcha tried to pull them back but one escaped before she could stop it. "Whoa, hey." He set a hand gently on her shoulder. Offering much needed comfort and support. "It's okay. He's going to be okay. Believe me, Bright is much stronger than he looks."
"Yes, but he wouldn't be here if Mandy and I hadn't forced him to come with us tonight."
"You haven't learned that Malcolm Bright does what Malcolm Bright wants to do, have you?"
"Oh, no, I know that." She sent him a watery smile. "I've dealt with his stubborn ass plenty the last nine months."
"Then you know that nothing you said or did would have stopped him from going with you."
"He didn't want to go." Her shoulders drooped beneath the weight of guilt on them. "Mandy and I drug him along. If we hadn't..."
"Then the two of you might be the ones who got hurt." His tone was the same one her dad used whenever he was reminding her about what the other side of a situation looked like. It filled that void in her. The one desperately wishing her dad was here to make everything alright. "Bright wouldn't feel good knowing that he could have been there to save you and wasn't."
"They'd have hurt him worse if I hadn't seen that patrol car and screamed my full head off."
"You did the right thing." His hand gently squeezed her shoulder. Support and comfort. The kind only a dad could give. "Now," he said as he stepped back. "We focus on getting Bright better."
"He's going to fight us every step of the way."
"You've definitely met his stubborn side."
"On more than one occasion."
"Then you already know how to deal with it."
"With love and patience?" Her lips crept up into a smile. "Or by being as stubborn as him?"
"All three."
A/N: Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!
I just want to send a special thank you to Rookblonkorules and my guest for their lovely reviews!
