Chapter 3

I paced outside the consulting room at the hospital. It smelled like hospitals—antiseptic and floor cleaner. I figured it was a good thing because it meant the hospital was clean. It certainly looked that way. I shook my head and wondered what on earth I was doing thinking about cleanliness at a time like this. My best friend was black and blue because of her asshole husband.

On the way over, I'd talked Pen into letting the doctor make a report, like he would if the police had asked. I wanted every injury documented. I realized that Pen was embarrassed about all of this. If only she'd believed me when I told her she had nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing that had happened was her fault.

I turned and bumped into my brother, Tate. I frowned. "Why are you here?" My eyes darted quickly over his shoulder.

"I'm not here for me, I'm here for you," he admitted, a slight blush appearing on his cheeks.

His appearance was so unexpected that I burst into tears and wrapped my arms around his neck. Tate grabbed my waist and held me as I cried. My brother could be a jerk. He could ignore me for a month. But when I needed him, he was my brother and my friend.

"I love you, sis, but do you think you can avoid wetting my shirt?"

For some reason, that made me laugh. I pulled away and put my hands on his shoulder. "I'm glad you're here."

He gave me a wry smile. "Where else would I be when you need me." Clearing his throat, he stepped back and asked, "How's Pen?"

"She's badly bruised, Tate." He paused. "Will you stay here in case the doctor comes out? I need to clean up."

Tate nodded.

In the bathroom I washed my face. I looked like a panda with mascara clumping around my eyes. I had to pull myself together. Pen needed me and I was not going to let her down.

I left the bathroom and noticed that Jessop had arrived. His back was to me as he chatted with Tate. When he turned, my eyes widened. "What..."

"Don't start, Talla."

I grabbed a pack of tissues from my purse and reached for the side of his face. He flinched, but finally held still. I pressed the tissue to the cut. "You found him, didn't you?"

"Maybe," he mumbled.

"Hold the tissue in place."

When his fingers replaced mine on the cloth, I gasped. "Your poor knuckles. Jessop!"

"He's worse than me."

"I don't care about the asshole, but I do care about you. Jessop!"

A cleared throat distracted us. "Are you here with Penelope?"

"Yes." Jessop, Tate and I said together. I wouldn't mind, but I was the one who brought Pen here, which the doctor knew.

"I have documented each of her injuries as you requested, Miss James." He paused. "Nothing is broken, but the bruising is extensive. I have prescribed a non-addictive painkiller, which should help her get around more easily. I won't be admitting her, as that would be against her wishes, and I think as long as she's away from the man who did this to her, she'll be fine...physically at least."

I let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Doctor. Can we see her?"

"You can. She'll be ready as soon as I get the script from the pharmacy." He looked at Jessop and sighed. "Are you one of those Hallen boys?"

"I haven't been called a boy in a long time, but yes, Jessop Hallen."

The doctor nodded. "Wait for me in that room. Looks like you need stitches." He grinned and went to the nurses' station.

"Hell," Jessop muttered. "I hate needles."

"I can come in with you and hold your hand," I offered with a raised eyebrow.

"With how accident prone you are, I'll go in alone."

Tate turned to me. "What did he mean by that?"

"Oh, nothing." I quickly walked into Pen's room. She was sitting up on the bed, looking a little worse for wear, but she had a little smile on her face.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"They gave me some juice," she replied.

I frowned and looked at Tate. "I think she means morphine."

"Ah!" I sat down on the side of the bed and took her hand in mine. "We're going to be roommates, Pen." I smiled. "We're going to get Aidan out of your house."

"What's going to happen to him?"

"You'll have to press charges."

"I'm not sure I can do that," she answered in a low voice. "I just want it all to go away."

"He has to be punished for what he did, Pen. You know that."

"Jessop certainly punished the asshole," Tate said.

Pen's eyes went to my brother. "What?"

"Maybe this isn't the time for this, Tate."

Tate scoffed and said to Pen, "When Jessop saw you, he went looking for Aidan. He found him. They're both being patched up as we speak."

"Oh, no!" Pen pushed herself into a more sitting position. "Is Jessop, okay?"

"He will be. Don't worry about him."

"Talla, he's hurt because of me. I'm worried." She paused and focused on my brother. "How are you here?"

"I ran into Jessop. He told me what happened." He shrugged, embarrassed to be put on the spot. "I thought Talla might need me."

I reached for my brother's hand and squeezed it, noticing that his cheeks were flushed.

"I'm glad you're here," Pen said. "When can we get out of here?"

"I think the doctor is taking his time with the discharge because they've given you the good stuff." Tate looked at me. "I'm going to check on Jessop. If he's still around, I'll get a ride from him to Coffee Bean. Let Bernie know how Pen's doing."

"Thanks, Tate." I stood and put my arms around my brother.

"I had a vision," I told Pen just as the door closed behind my brother. Even as I said the words, I felt my cheeks heat up.

Pen frowned and tilted her head to the side. "Interesting."

"We really, really need to prevent his death." I collected myself and admitted, "He died naked."

My friends' eyes widened. "I didn't expect that. Tell me everything."

"Marshall and his three friends were at the café this morning. I shook hands with them as they introduced themselves. That's how I saw Marshall's death." I paused. "He's the groom, Pen."

"Groom?"

"He's getting married this weekend over at The Iris Hotel and Spa. At least I think he's getting married there. I have no idea how he died. There was no blood that I saw. He was just lying naked on the bed." I put my hands to my face. "Pen," I whispered, "he had a, um, erection."

She burst out laughing and winced, which turned her laughter into a chuckle. "He didn't. You made that up."

"I swear I didn't. Angel lust is a thing, especially when the man was killed by hanging or ingesting poison."

"How do you know that crap?"

"I have no idea. But I saw him lying down, so he couldn't have been hanged."

"Maybe he died of natural causes while he had an erection," Pen said thoughtfully.

"I don't think that would work. I mean, if he's dead, then his blood stops pumping, which means his penis would go flaccid."

"If he's dead, whether by hanging or poisoning, wouldn't that have the same effect?"

"Apparently not in some cases."

"Okay, well, let's stop talking about dicks and come up with a plan of action."

"There's the wedding."

"We could crash it."

"Are you sure you'll be okay, Pen?" I asked, having second thoughts. It would be a good distraction for Pen, but I didn't want her to get hurt more than she already was.

"Oh yeah. I don't want to miss this. I've always wanted to go to a wedding at The Iris." She avoided my gaze. "Your wedding would have been there."

"Trevor's been quiet on that front, so let's not rock the boat. It's frustrating having to keep telling him it's not going to happen."

Pen snorted. "I think the morphine is wearing off, would you mind finding out about the discharge?"

"I'll find a nurse." I kissed Pen's cheek.