N. Walters: The Seduction of Shamus O'Rourke

"Yes, she's fine. She'll be sore for awhile, but she'll heal."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome.” The nurse smiled at him. “I'm just going off shift now, but I'm back on in a couple days. If you're still here, I'll check on you again then.” She left the room as quietly as she'd come.

"Where's Patrick?” Shamus pinned his sister with a laser glare. He felt incredibly weak, but the adrenaline coursing through his system was giving him a boost.

"I'm not sure. He was here for a long time, but then he left. Why?"

"Because someone needs to keep an eye on Cyndi. She shouldn't be alone.” He let the statement hang in the air.

Dani sighed and scrubbed her face with her hands. “I'm sorry, okay? But when they told me you'd been shot...” She bit her lip and turned away.

Shamus hated seeing tears in his sister's eyes. “Hey.” He waited until she turned back to face him. “It's okay. I do understand. But you have to understand something, too. Cyndi is important to me and that's not going to change.” His shoulder ached like a son of a bitch, so he took a couple of deep breaths.

"I'm beginning to believe that.” Dani shook her head as she walked over to his side and rested her hand on his forearm. “I'll try. That's all I can promise."

"That's all I can ask."

The door shoved open and his older brother strode in. “I passed a nurse in the hall who said you were looking for me.” Shamus realized the nurse must have overheard his question to Dani on her way out the door. He had to remember to find her and thank her when this was over.

"Cyndi was hurt and she's out there somewhere by herself."

Patrick dragged a hand though his hair and huffed out a breath. There were dark circles beneath his steady, gray eyes. Patrick looked tired. Shamus realized then that he'd probably been up all night long. “Yeah, she left the hospital when I wasn't looking. No, I wasn't paying attention. I didn't think she'd leave."

"She knew she couldn't get in to see me,” Shamus pointed out.

Patrick nodded, but made no apology. “Right now, she's at the Jamesville Motel. She stopped by the station and gave her statement before she headed home. One of my men said that when she dropped by the house to get some belongings, he overheard her say she was going to the motel. I've got a man watching her room."

"Good,” Shamus sighed, allowing his eyes to close for a brief moment. His shoulder was throbbing worse than a toothache.

"Are you all right?” He felt his sister's hand against his forehead and opened his eyes again.

"Yeah.” He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I'll be up and around before you know it."

"But not too fast.” He could see the strain on her face. Patrick had been shot a little over a year ago and he knew this was churning up all those memories for his sister.

"Not too fast,” he promised. At least not as far as he was concerned. “Why don't you go home and get some rest? You look exhausted."

"It's been a long night.” She glanced over at Patrick.

He answered his sister's unasked question. “I'll stay with him for a while."

Shamus chuckled. “I don't need a babysitter."

"I just don't want you to be alone.” She brushed a lock of hair out of his face and leaned down to kiss his forehead.

"You okay to drive?” Patrick asked.

Dani grabbed her jacket and purse from the chair. “Perfectly. I'll be back in a few hours."

"Get some rest,” Shamus admonished his sister.

"Only if you do the same,” she countered. He nodded and she came over to the bed and stroked his good arm. Sighing, she turned and gave Patrick a hug before leaving the room.

Shamus pinned his brother with a glare. “I need to get out of here. Now."

Cyndi opened one eye and blinked. The sun was streaming in through the window, practically blinding her. She started to roll over and realized that she was still fully dressed. The events of the past night slammed into her and she groaned, flinging an arm over her head. She moaned in pain as her arm began to throb, a vivid reminder of the fact that she'd been injured.

Lying on the bed, she took one deep breath after another until the pain subsided. Carefully, she pushed herself up into a sitting position and scrubbed her hand over her face. She felt grungy and dirty and she smelled of smoke.

Sighing, she levered herself off the bed and stumbled into the bathroom, stopping only to grab the bag she'd packed. She was feeling shaky and knew she needed to get cleaned up and get something to eat. Cyndi flicked on the bathroom light and stared at the woman in the mirror.

Her hair was matted and dirty, her eyes red-rimmed and hollow. She shuddered and turned away, grateful she'd stopped at home for a change of clothing. Everything she was wearing was only fit for the garbage.

Dumping the bag on the floor, she dug out her soap and shampoo, and placed them on the side of the tub. With great care, she eased off her sweater before removing the scrub top that the nurse had given her. She quickly toed off her sneakers and kicked them aside. Her jeans followed, leaving her totally bare. Underwear and socks hadn't been a priority last night.

Turning to the shower, she flicked on the taps and adjusted the water to the right temperature before stepping into the spray. She knew that she probably shouldn't get her bandage wet, but she didn't care. She needed to be clean.

She did her hair first, shampooing it three times before she was satisfied that it was clean. Her body was next. She soaped herself from head to toe, which took a while because she was suddenly very aware of a myriad of aches and pains all over her body. The water ran cold before she was truly satisfied, but she wasn't about to stand in the shower and shiver.

Twisting the taps, she stopped the flow of water. She stepped out onto the thin bathmat, grabbed one of the towels, and wrapped it around her body. The second towel, she wrapped around her wet hair. A quick glance in the mirror, assured her that she looked slightly better than she had. The main thing was she felt better.

Cyndi dug around in her bag and found her moisturizer. Taking her time, she smoothed it on her skin from her face to her feet. That done, she pulled on underwear. The panties were easy, the bra a bit trickier with her bad arm.

The adhesive around the edges of the bandage had loosened, so she tugged it off. The wound looked red and raw, but it would heal. She'd have to stop at the drugstore and pick up some gauze and adhesive tape to recover it. Or maybe she'd use that as an excuse to drop by the hospital.

She'd packed jeans and a few t-shirts. If she'd been thinking, she would have packed blouses instead. Buttons would have been easier to deal with then dragging a shirt over her head. Gritting her teeth, she yanked the shirt on over her head and eased her bad arm into it. She was sweating slightly by the time she'd gotten her socks and shoes on, but she felt much better than she had when she'd awakened.

It didn't take her long to dry her hair and slick on some lip balm. No makeup for her. She didn't normally wear much more than mascara and some concealer anyway, but today she was in a hurry and too tired to care.

Cyndi gathered up her dirty clothes, and dumped them in the garbage pail. Her bag, she carried back into the room and lay it on the bed. Sinking down to the mattress, she grabbed her purse and rummaged around until she found her cell phone. She took a deep breath to calm herself. Then, she placed a call to the hospital.

The voice on the other end was polite, but could only tell her that the patient was stable. Cyndi thanked the woman and ended the call. She sat there, staring at her phone, biting her bottom lip to keep from crying. A part of her wanted to storm into the hospital and demand her right to be with Shamus. But that wouldn't endear her to either his family or the hospital staff. They'd expect Cynthia James to do something like that.