Nothing about him seems nice to me. His dark eyes, plus the blank look on his face, and the clean, perfectly tailored suit he's wearing has me wanting to cower in a corner and give in to the nervous tremors breaking free across my body.
The whole look is too familiar and it's causing my anxiety to spike.
My gaze moves over to the blonde woman that's clutching onto Dominic's arm, and she smiles at me with teary eyes.
"Well, we best get going," Louise announces, nudging Dominic in the side. "I'll most likely see you again soon, Rory."
I step to the side, letting them pass me and as soon as I hear the door shut, I sigh in relief and take my sweaty hands from my pockets, smoothing them down the trousers of my scrubs.
In through your nose. Out through your mouth.
I repeat that in my head a few times as I breathe deeply, following the instructions in my head until my heart settles back to its normal rate inside my chest.
Once I've calmed down, I shake my head and scoff at my own reaction.
"Get a fucking grip, Rory," I hiss, squeezing my eyes shut as I talk to myself. "We're meant to be moving past this. We're perfectly fine, and we're safe here."
The chime of my phone causes me to jump and my eyes snap open as I hurriedly pull it from my pocket.
Chrissie:
How's your first day going so far, honey?
Rory:
It's going okay. Almost had a mini heart attack a minute ago though because of a patient I've been assigned to.
Will call and update you later.
I smile down at my phone as I re-read the text from Chrissie before pocketing it.
Christine was my old boss at the hospital I worked in before coming to London. We'd become best friends during the five years that I worked with her, despite the fact that she was my superior.
She's the sweetest woman I've ever met, and she took me under her wing as soon as I started. She taught me everything I know, and after spending almost every day with the woman for years, we became close.
She also knows about everything that was happening back in Ireland.
As soon as she found out about my situation, she helped me. She managed to transfer me to this hospital without leaving a trail, she also helped me legally change my name, found me a place to live, and then she moved me here without anyone knowing.
I guess things like that are easy when you're married to the consigliere of the Irish Mafia.
Christine saved my life and I'll never be able to repay her for that.
I run my fingers through my hair, take another deep breath and then turn my gaze to the man lying in the hospital bed in the middle of the room, taking in his partially bruised face and dishevelled, unruly blonde hair.
He lies so still, and despite the fact that he's probably in pain, his face looks so peaceful.
I step closer, my eyes scanning his face, and my lips tilt up.
He looks sweet, like the kind of man that would compliment you every day and shower you with gifts every chance he gets. He seems like he'd take care of the people he loves.
He doesn't look like the kind of man that would ever cause anyone any harm.
I shake my head, tearing my eyes away from his handsome face and walk over to the end of his bed, grabbing his chart.
He may look like he's sweet and kind, but I know looks can be deceiving.
Besides, he's part of the Mafia, and if Lola was telling the truth earlier, then Jaylen King is the new second-in-command to the new boss.
