“But I knew,” She whispered, weakly giving his hand a squeeze. “That night in the emergency room. I knew you believed me. You were the first person that I’d ever talked to that did. I knew that if I wanted it, you would have done whatever you could to have helped me. But that night, I was so beaten and broken down, I don’t think anyone could have helped me. Not that night. But the thing is, you did make a difference. After I met you, I realised that maybe I didn’t have to live like that. So, I began to make plans. Dylan, you gave me the courage to leave him.”
“Really?” He asked, giving her a relieved looking smile. Almost like the guilt he felt had been lifted from his shoulders, and he was able to breathe again.
“Really,” She replied, as she smiled too.
“Then let me continue to help you, Brook,” Dylan asked, giving her a pleading look. “I just want to be your friend. I promise that’s all I want.”
“You want to be my friend?” Brook asked, as once more tears pooled in her eyes. She so desperately wanted to trust him. She wanted to believe he was a good guy, but she was so scared.
“I know you don’t know me,” Dylan continued as if he was reading her mind. “I know that you have no reason in this world to trust me and have every reason not to. But you have a long road ahead of you; you will need a friend.”
“A friend?” Brook repeated as she considered his words.
“A friend,” Dylan replied, giving her a broad smile.
“I’d like a friend,” Brook said, returning his smile. “I would like that very much.”
“Great,” Dylan said as he stood up from her bed. Brook couldn’t help but smile at how cute he looked when he smiled. “But right now, I’ve got to do the doctor thing. I need to take you to CT. Doctor Abrams would like a new scan to confirm that the bleeding had stopped completely.
“Okay,” Brook said, suddenly feeling worried again. She hated that she felt so unsure and scared.
“It’s nothing to worry about,” Dylan said, once more reading her mind. It was so strange. It was like he knew what she was thinking almost before she knew herself. “This is just procedure. I promise that’s all.”
“Okay,” Brook nodded, this time giving him a smile.
Fifteen minutes later, Brook was being moved onto the bed in CT. As she lay down, Dylan covered her with a blanket.
“It can get a little chilly in here,” he said, smiling at her. “We will have you done and back in your room before you know it.”
“Thank you,” Brook said, giving him a smile.
With a nod, Dylan turned and headed out of the room, leaving Brook alone in the room, the only sound was her breathing.
She lay there, staring at the white ceiling, trying to remember what Dylan said had assured her that she had nothing to worry about. Still, she could help but feel nervous about having this done. She was so afraid that they would find something wrong with her brain again.
As the machine began to move, the bed Brook was on started to move back into the tunnel. She gripped the sheet that was beneath her, as her heart raced in her chest. Finally, it came to a stop, and she was inside the machine. She had an overwhelming urge to climb back out. She hated enclosed spaces.
“Brook,” Dylan’s voice came from out of nowhere. “I know you nervous, but I need you to try and relax. Can you do that for me?”
“I can try,” she said, but even as she spoke, she knew her heart was beating faster and faster. She felt like the machine was closing in around her.
“Hey,” Dylan said suddenly. “Did I ever tell you that I have four brothers?”
“No,” Brook replied, surprised by his question. “You didn’t.”
“Yeah,” Dylan continued. “There are five Murphy boys in total. We are all very different, but also very similar. We’ve kept our mom busy over the years. Landen is the eldest. He is a kick-ass lawyer. He is known as The Bulldozer. He is the last person you want to come up against in a courtroom. Then there is Finn. He is a professor at Berkley. He is probably the smartest but the sweetest man I know. Then there is Callum. He runs the family business. He works harder than anyone I’ve ever met. But nothing is more important to him than family. Finally, there is Liam. He and I are twins actually. He is the bravest man I know, but he has this wild side that makes me so mad, but also makes me love him more.”
“It must be nice to have so many brothers,” Brook said, wondering what it would feel like to have such a big family. To know, no matter what happened, you had someone there in your corner through thick and thin.
“When we were little,” Dylan continued. “My mom and dad would take us all to the beach, where my dad taught each of us how to surf. Have you ever been surfing, Brook?”
“No,” she replied, smiling as she imagined Dylan as a young boy sitting on a surfboard next to his father.
“It’s the best feeling in the world,” Dylan continued. “Sitting there, on your board, waiting for the perfect wave. Then you begin to paddle so fast your heart almost beats out of your chest. But then you stand up, and I swear, it’s the closest feeling you’ll ever get to flying. At least, it is to me. All my brothers are pretty good surfers, but I think I’m the only one that still bothers to go.”
“Sounds amazing,” Brook replied with a smile, imagining Dylan standing on a surfboard, riding a wave with the sun in his face.
“Maybe someday I can teach you to surf,” Dylan said, and Brook could hear the smile in his voice too.
“I would like that,” she replied, surprised that she meant what she said. “I would like that very much.”
“Then that’s a deal. Now,” Dylan continued. “How about we get this scan done.
Brook’s smile widened. She hadn’t even realised it, but he had calmed her down simply by talking to her, taking her mind off everything.
“Sure,” she replied, closing her eyes. While the machine did its job, Brook imagined sitting on a surfboard out in the ocean, waiting for the perfect wave. She decided there and then she was going to do whatever it took to get back onto her feet because one day she was going to let Dylan teach her to surf.
One day, she too would like to know what it feels like to fly.
Chapter 12
Dylan sat in the sand, looking out over the beautiful Pacific Ocean. It had been weeks since he’d made it to the beach, but for some reason, when he woke up that morning, he decided today was the day he was going to head out for an early morning surf.
It was his first day off in over two weeks, and he didn’t want to waste it lying in a bed sleeping. So, he got up early, then headed to his parent’s house to borrow his dad’s truck, just like he always did whenever he was going surfing. Over the years he had considered giving up his bike, maybe buying something that was more practical for him on the days he wanted to catch a few waves, but each time he would remind himself how much he loved his motorcycle, and giving her up was not an option.
As he sat there in the sand, he thought about Brook.
It had been a week since she had been rushed back to the OR and each day, she continued to get stronger and stronger. Her CT had come back clear that day, as had the one two days later.
Once she’d gotten the all clear from the second CT, Brook was moved out of ICU into a regular room. She was finally on the road to recovery. Once she’d been moved to a regular room, Dylan told Landen it was okay to come and talk to her about things that had happened in the past.
When he came by to talk to her, Dylan sat at the nurse station supposedly updating charts, but most of the time his eyes were on Brook. Dylan told himself that he was worried about her getting upset and maybe having another seizure, but in his heart, he knew that it was more than that.
As he got to know her more, he’d become more and more protective of her. And while he wanted to make those who had let her down pay, a part of him wanted to just wrap her in his arms to keep her safe.
But Landen had been amazing with her. He promised her that she had nothing to worry about
. He would get this done quickly, with as little stress as possible. He also said he had begun the paperwork to have Brook returned as her father’s legal guardian, and this made Brook happy.
When she told Dylan and Landen what she had done to move her father from Warren’s clutches, they were both stunned, but Landen said he would smooth everything over, that given she had extenuating circumstances, a judge would look kindly on her, especially as she had provided her father with a safe alternative, and he was doing well.
The only cloud that hung over everything was Liam had still found nothing to connect Warren to the attack on Brook.
Dylan knew Liam was doing everything he possibly could, leaving no stone unturned. But the truth was, this asshole was a cop who knew every way possible there was to cover his tracks. The fact that Brook had no memory of the night didn’t help either.
Dylan knew she hated that she would be the only piece of the puzzle that Liam needed, and she couldn’t remember a thing.
Still, she tried to smile and be positive. She was determined not to let Warren break her down again. All she wanted to do was concentrate on getting better, going back to New York, and getting as far away from Warren as she possibly could.
That thought made Dylan sad. Over the last two weeks, he’d gotten used to her being around, especially over the last few days.
They had spent a lot of time together. Most evenings, when Dylan’s shift was over, he would spend a couple of hours in her room, just hanging out and talking to her. Sometimes, they would sit and watch some old crappy movie on the tiny TV in her room. Sometimes they would sit and play cards. Dylan said any exercise that improved her fine motor skills was a good thing, and that playing cards would help her dexterity.
Brook had become someone who was very important to Dylan, and the thought of her leaving, and him never seeing her again just made him sad.
Still, sitting there on the warm sand, looking out at the white, foamy waves, crashing onto the sand, he told himself. He wouldn’t let her leave until he had taken her surfing, even once, just as he had promised her.
Smiling at that thought, he pushed up from the sand and brushed himself off. He then picked up his board, heading back towards his father’s truck.
Once the surfboard was loaded onto the back, Dylan pulled the zipper on his wetsuit open. Even though it was almost dry, he hated sitting in it while he was driving. Kicking it off his legs, he threw it into the back of the truck, before he reached in and pulled the t-shirt he’d been wearing earlier out from the back.
As he pulled it over his head, a patrol car pulled to a stop at the back of the truck. Dylan stood and watched as the two officers climbed from the car, then walked around the truck, looking over it.
“Can I help you, Officers?” Dylan asked, having no clue what they could possibly want.
“Is this your vehicle?” One of the officers asked as the other continued to circle the truck.
“It belongs to my dad,” Dylan explained, suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable, but having no clue why.
“Then why are you driving it?” The other officer asked, as he too walked around the truck.
“I borrow it whenever I go surfing,” Dylan explained, deciding to play along with this. “I normally drive a motorcycle, but I can’t carry the board on that so…”
“We’ve had a report that a truck matching this description was used in a robbery at a service station, not too far from here,” the first officer continued. “It happened about five o’clock this morning. Can you tell me where you were at that time, Sir?”
“I was at home, asleep,” Dylan replied, having no clue why this cop had stopped to question him over some robbery.
“Can anyone confirm that?” The second officer asked.
“No,” Dylan replied. “But my dad can confirm I didn’t collect the truck until six thirty.”
“We need to search the truck,” the first officer said, looking at Dylan expectantly.
“You’re wasting your time,” Dylan laughed, knowing this was complete bullshit, but his father always taught him, if you were stopped by the cops, cooperate because you have nothing to hide. “But go ahead.”
He unlocked the doors for the officers, handing the first officer the keys, then stepped back.
The two officers began to pull the truck apart, making a mess of his father’s belongings on the back seat.
“Can you be careful with those things,” Dylan said, unable to bite his tongue anymore. “They belong to my dad.”
“Well if Daddy has nothing to hide,” the second officer retorted without even looking at Dylan. “Then I’m sure Daddy won’t mind.”
“Do you even know who my father is?” Dylan sighed, beginning to feel more than a little pissed off about this. “Boy, you are so messing with the wrong truck.”
“You think I care who your old man is?” The second officer asked, this time turning his attention to Dylan. “You know what? I’ve had enough of your smart mouth. Against the truck. Now!”
Before Dylan could even move, the officer grabbed his arm, shoving him so hard against the truck that he bumped his head against one of the bars.
“One more word out of you, wise guy,” the second officer continued as he began to search Dylan. “And your ass is mine.”
“I’ve done nothing wrong, Officer,” Dylan insisted as a throbbing pain shot through his head, moments later, he could feel something warm trickle down he face, and he knew he was bleeding. “I’m a doctor. I’ve banged my head, and now I need medical attention.”
“You’ll shut your damn mouth,” the second officer hissed back.
“Eddie,” the other officer called from the front seat of the truck.
“Don’t you move,” the second officer instructed Dylan before he walked over to his partner. Dylan could hear whispering, then a moment later the first officer walked up to Dylan.
“I’m very sorry for the mix-up, Doctor Murphy,” the first officer said, handing Dylan back the car keys. “You’re free to go.”
“I’m free to go?” Dylan asked, turning to face the officers. “Your partner bounced my head off the back of the truck.”
“If you would like, I can call for medical assistance?” The first officer offered, but the second guy never said a word.
“I think I’ve got it,” Dylan said, deciding just to let it go. He did, however, make a mental note of the two officer’s shield numbers. And the number of the patrol car.
“I’m sorry again for the misunderstanding,” the first officer said, nodded at Dylan before he and his partner turned, and headed for their car. Dylan stood and watched them as they drove away, knowing in his heart that this was no misunderstanding at all. They knew exactly who he was; they just didn’t realise who his family was. This had Warren Pearse written all over it.
As he climbed into the truck, he pulled open the glove box, pulling out the small first aid box he knew his father always kept in there. He turned to the rear-view mirror so he could see his forehead and sighed when he saw the small contusion just below his hairline. He was going to need a couple of stitches.
He quickly patched himself up with a temporary dressing till he dropped the truck home to his dad, then he would go to the emergency room, and have his head checked over properly.
Fifteen minutes later, he was pulling his dad’s truck into the garage at the back of the house, before he climbed out, heading for the house. He hadn’t even made it halfway across the patio when his mother appeared in the doorway.
“How was the surf today?” She asked, giving him a broad smile, but it quickly faded when she saw the temporary dressing on his forehead and the dry blood on the front of his t-shirt. “Dylan! What happened to you?”
“I had a run in with the side of the truck,” he replied with a sigh as he greeted his mother with a kiss on the cheek. “It’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“You’re covered in blood,” she said as she quickly turned and led him back into the house.
“Of course it’s something for me to worry about.”
“What’s happened,” Sean asked from the table where he was sitting, reading the morning paper. He folded it and set it down, the moment he saw Dylan’s head. “What happened to your head?”
“Funny story,” Dylan sighed as he walked to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. He then walked to the kitchen table, sitting down before he told his mother and father what had happened with the two cops.
“Are you kidding me with this?” Sean exclaimed as he climbed up from his chair before he began pacing up and down. “I don’t know who this Warren Pearse is, but he’s about to feel my boot up his ass.”
“Sean, please,” Nell said, getting up from the table, hurrying towards her husband. “I need you to calm down. I know you’re angry. I am too…”
“I’m not angry, Nell,” Sean replied to his wife, looking her in the eyes. “I am mad as hell. This city is full of good, hard working cops. Cops that go above and beyond for the people of San Francisco. But a few bad apples can bring the whole lot down. Also, no one messes with my kid like this. Not some snot nose rookie, and certainly not some privileged detective who thinks he’s above the law.”
“I know,” Nell replied, still trying her hardest to calm Sean down. “You’re right, of course, you are. But my son getting hurt because of this man is bad enough. I don’t want you having another heart attack because of him too. Now, we will take care of this. I’m going to go get Dylan a clean t-shirt, then I am going to take him to the emergency room. You can ring Liam. Ask him to look into this. Okay?”
“Okay,” Sean sighed before he gave Nell a soft kiss on the lips. Then he turned to Dylan. “This isn’t going to happen again, Son. I give you my word.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Dylan replied, almost wishing he hadn’t told his father what had happened. His mother was right. Warren Pearse had caused enough trouble. The last thing anyone wanted was for him to be the reason for his father to have another heart attack.
Dylan (The Murphy Series Book 5) Page 12
