Series: Sean Moriarty
Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 113805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
The dining room isn’t much better. Filled with an old table, two chairs, and a highchair. There’s only a small microwave and an old fridge in the kitchen.
Eden continues to soothe Abel and tries to ignore that I’m intruding in her home.
Moving past me, she grabs her purse off the counter and starts rifling through it with one hand while still gently bouncing Abel on her hip.
“Where the flip is it!” she snaps.
Heading deeper into the kitchen, she searches the bare countertops before returning to the kitchen table.
“What?” I ask.
I can feel the anger in her eyes as she turns to glare at me.
“My cellphone,” she says and heads over to the couch.
Ah.
That would be the one I ‘borrowed’ from her purse earlier. She most likely won’t look at it as such, though. She might use a dirty word like stole.
Shrugging my shoulders, I unbutton my suit coat and pull it off. The home is too warm for my tastes.
But the heat does have its merits, I guess. I get to watch Eden move throughout the place in that skimpy dress.
Folding my jacket neatly over the back of one of the dining chairs, I gently pat the purloined phone in the inner pocket.
Looking back at her as she continues to repeat the same path, searching for her phone, I say, “Perhaps you left it in your locker. Why do you need it anyway?”
“I wouldn’t have done that.” She stares daggers at me as she looks from me to my coat. “Why are you taking your coat off? You need to be leaving.”
“Again, that won’t be happening.” I smirk. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I need it to look up the closest urgent—” she says before my own cellphone starts ringing.
Pulling it from my pocket, I push the speakerphone button.
“I’m in front of a townhouse, Jude. Why am I in front of a townhouse?” Nathaniel asks.
“Bring your medical bag,” I say then push the disconnect button. “There’s no need for an urgent care, if that was your idea.”
“My son is sick. Do you think I’m just going to ignore that? What the hell is wrong with you?” Eden growls at me before gently shushing Abel as he starts getting worked up again.
There’s a soft knock on the front door.
“Allow me to show you why you need to trust me,” I say before turning from her beautiful annoyed face.
“How dare you just tell someone they can come to my house!” she hisses at me.
Opening the door, I nod at Nathaniel. “I appreciate your speedy response.”
“Are you wounded?” he asks me.
“No.” I motion for him to come in. “Not this time.”
Nathaniel walks into the townhouse and takes a quick appraisal of the place. His eyes flick from one spot to the other before landing on Eden and Abel.
“The crying child, I take it?” Nathaniel asks with a sigh.
“Yes, he has a fever,” I answer.
“Ah.” Nathaniel moves towards a wide-eyed Eden only to pull back when she snarls at him.
“What the hell is going on?” Eden asks and moves away from us both.
“He’s a doctor,” I say soothingly. “I called him in the car when we heard Abel was sick.”
Eden scoffs at him. “You’re a pediatrician?”
“Not exactly,” Nathaniel says with a chuckle. “I was a trauma surgeon… Now you could say I’m more of a general practitioner and trauma surgeon, with pediatrics on the side. It’s a long story.”
Eden shakes her head. “You have to be kidding me.”
Nathaniel slowly walks over to Eden, asking, “How long has he had a fever?”
Looking between us both, Eden sighs. “He was a little fussy earlier… But I didn’t know about the fever until I got called at work around twenty minutes ago.”
It’s amazing to see the change in Nathaniel as he switches from a man who helps us with some of the more criminal works to a full-fledged doctor.
Taking Abel from Eden’s very reluctant arms, he quickly assesses the child as he walks him over to the living room couch.
Gently laying Abel down on the cushions, he motions for Eden to help him as he pulls a couple of instruments from his bag.
“Now, normally, I would have you bring the little fella into my office, like the rest of the families do.” Nathaniel looks over to me with a frown. “But we can make things work here.”
Abel’s little cries make me feel something I’m not entirely sure I’ve ever felt before.
A deep sense of protectiveness for the child.
Not just Eden, but for the actual child.
How very strange it is to feel protective of a child.
My instincts tell me to hurt anyone that makes the child cry, even if it’s one of my brothers.
But Nathaniel is doing it to help him, so I bite the inner cheek of my mouth and wait.
Shining a light into Abel’s ears, mouth, and nose, Nathaniel works quickly, but gently explains to Eden what he’s doing. Calming her.