Roman-1(Lane Brothers, Book 5)(65)

“I’ll be fine, Mr Blake, pinky promise. Now go take over the world or something. I have a landscape to finish, and my client will really ride my ass if I slack on the job.”

“Count on it,” he growls.

***

“Just turn it off and come here. The doctor emailed me your diet, and I’ve cooked you a good hearty meal of liver to get your iron levels up,” I yell to Bee from the kitchen.

I look down at the two portions of liver and shudder. The things I do for friendship.

“Jesus, that looks like dog shit on a plate.”

“Thanks a lot. I’m only the idiot who cooked it and has to eat it with you,” I mutter, dumping the pan into the sink and sitting down across from her.

From her pinched expression, I can see she’s about as excited about liver and onions as I am, so I dig in first.

“Okay, this is actually not too bad,” I say, surprised that a recipe off the internet has finally worked for me.

Okay, so maybe it’s not gourmet, and has a weird metallic taste that makes my belly roil, but it’s not making me retch. Yet.

“Can’t we just order Chinese and watch Thelma and Louise?”

“Nope. Doc said I have to watch you eat, and so here we are. Eat your liver.”

We both crack up at the sound of that and spend ten minutes swallowing without chewing. When I see that her plate is cleared I grab us each a virgin Bloody Mary and park us both on the sofa.

Halfway through Thelma and Louise I see her inch toward the bathroom slowly, and I just manage to stifle a snarl. Doc had warned me to keep an eye on her in case she starts upchucking her food, and it seems little Miss Bee is as predictable as all other bulimics.

“Sit your sweet ass back down on this sofa before I kick it into next Tuesday, Bianca Parker.”

I hear her groan and spear her with my deadliest look, the one that tells her exactly how close I am to losing my shit if she doesn’t obey.

Like the broken shadow she is, she slinks back to me and lies down, her head in my lap, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. I run my hands through her long brown hair and grind my teeth when a few strands come loose.

“It’s okay, Bee. I’m right here, sweetheart.”

There’s nothing else to say or do but stroke her hair and pretend to watch a movie while grief and rage course through me. I’ve decided against calling the Parkers for the moment.

Bee is too fragile for them right now, and I’m quite frankly a little afraid of what her brother Jeff will do if he sees her this way. I don’t like Eric Brennan at all right now—in fact, I suspect I hate him—but I refuse to let Jeff go to prison for ripping that douchebag’s lungs out through his ass.

“He was so angry, Sis. I’m scared he’ll come here and… You haven’t seen his temper.”

She’s groggy by now and slurring her words, so she misses the evil grin that twitches at my lips, thank God.

“Vincent will rip him a new asshole if he so much as breathes near you, Bee.”





Chapter Ten




The next day is no better than yesterday, and I find myself selfishly wishing I’d let Vincent come back so that I could excuse myself, excuse the way I want to run from Bee and the mentally draining grief she seems cloaked in.

But I can’t, won’t do that to her. She needs me, and no matter how hard this is to witness, I know that I have to be here for her.

“Bee! Breakfast!”

I’m not that surprised when she comes stalking into the kitchen with a belligerent attitude and a bratty scowl that shoots daggers at me. I simply turn back to the stove and flip some bacon again, listening to her mutter about the coffee ban and the nutritional shake she has to slurp down with food she doesn’t want.

“Shut your mouth and eat your goddamned food, Bianca Parker. If you could listen to your dipshit ex-boyfriend for months, you can damn well listen to me. I at least don’t plan to slowly watch you starve yourself to death, dumbass.”

Her mouth drops open, and I watch in satisfaction as she gasps back air, speechless for the first time. Before I know it she’s shooting to her feet and in my face, her index finger drilling into my chest, right above my left breast.

“Now you listen here, Cecelia Bennet. Just because I’ve been an idiot for the last seven months doesn’t mean I’m willing to listen to you call me stupid all day long. If you can’t be nice, shut your goddamned mouth!” she yells into my face, the fire in her eyes so hot I feel my hair heat.

“That’s good to know, Bee. I’m glad to see you’re not a completely broken woman. That means you can start beating your problems without a potty partner every second of the day. Now, sit down and eat your breakfast while I grab a shower. If you puke it up I’ll just make more, but be warned: I’ll ram it down your fucking throat if I have to, and knock your ass out to keep it there.”