I hadn’t even realized that the man’s hand had been so tight around my throat earlier, squeezing. I’d been so far in my head, trying to figure a way out, that I hadn’t realized I hadn’t been breathing.
And then there was the sound of feet against pavement as the three men ran, and Aiden was on the ground next to me, holding me.
“Sienna? Sienna? Talk to me. What’s wrong? What hurts? God, baby. I’m so sorry.”
I was on his lap, and he was holding me, one hand cupping my face, the other held close to his body. I looked down and instantly knew something was wrong.
Aiden, the talented and amazing chef, the one that used his hands to create masterpieces, was holding his hand in such a way that I had a feeling it was broken.
Broken on someone’s face. To protect me.
And that was my fault. He was hurt. All because I had told him to go away. Because I’d thought I was strong enough.
Because I’d thought I could handle it on my own.
But obviously, I couldn’t.
“Sienna?”
“I tr—I—” I tried to get out words, but I couldn’t, so Aiden just kissed my temple and held me close, and I tried not to lean into him, tried not to do anything. Because I didn’t want him to be hurt again.
It was my fault that he was hurt, my fault for everything.
I didn’t even realize I was shaking until he was whispering soft, soothing things into my ear that I couldn’t decipher.
“It’s okay, I called the cops, they’re coming. They’re coming, Sienna. Just hold onto me. You’re going to be fine.”
“Sorry,” I whispered, but my voice was a ragged exhale.
He cursed under his breath, and I had no idea what happened next. I didn’t pass out, I was awake, but everything just happened so quickly. The cops were suddenly there, sirens blazing. People were running, shouting. I didn’t know what was wrong. I didn’t know anything.
I just found myself being pulled from Aiden’s arms, his growl of a voice telling them what he had seen.
He gave his statement, and then there were paramedics, taking care of us both.
I still had my purse on, but my keys were on the ground, and my phone was somewhere down the alley.
I think I told them that, but I don’t really remember.
I blinked a few times, and then I was in the ER, sitting on the edge of one of those beds.
My feet dangled, and I wondered why. Shouldn’t I be lying back? Shouldn’t I be settled, trying to get better?
Why was I sitting?
“Miss Knight? I need you to answer a few questions, okay?”
The female doctor was sweet, her voice soft. Caring. And I needed that. I didn’t know why, but I needed that.
“They didn’t touch me,” I said quickly. Because I knew that look in her eyes, I knew what she was asking. “They didn’t touch me like that. They just put their hands on my wrist and my neck, and they tried to get my purse. But they didn’t touch me.”
They didn’t do what would’ve been the worst thing that any woman could deal with.
And I was lucky. I might be bruised, I might be broken, but I was lucky.
“Okay, we’re just going to finish checking you over, okay? And the cops are here, and they’re going to want to hear what you have to say. Your family’s here, too.”
I blinked again, trying to get my thoughts in order. I was fine. I was just fine. Just a little banged up. And once I got through the shock, I would be fine.
It could’ve been worse. It could’ve been so much worse.
And then I thought of Aiden.
“Aiden? Is he okay?” I knew my words were fast, my voice a little high. But he needed to be okay.
“The man who came in with you? He’s with another doctor right now. His family’s here, as well, and it seems that you all know each other. Once I’m allowed to give you his status, I will. But first, let’s just worry about you, okay?”
“He needs that hand. He needs to be okay. He’s a really great chef. You would love the Connolly Brewery. They’re really great. I mean, they used to be great before, but now they’re even better because the brothers are working together, you know? And I really think that you should try it. Aiden does this thing with tapas. He makes it really fancy, even though it’s not too fancy. So, it’s not like pretentious or anything. I really think you’d like it.”
I knew I was rambling, and the doctor just nodded and then started to check me over.
And then Harmony and Violet were there, with Meadow right on their tail.
Meadow hadn’t been out with us, but here she was, our new friend, our new fourth.
And then I could breathe again. Because I wasn’t alone. But I had to make sure that Aiden was okay.
Aiden had to be okay.
The doctor finished with me, and it turned out I only had a few bruises and scrapes. I would be fine and could go home soon.
I went through my statement and told the cops everything I could remember. They had found my phone, though the glass was shattered. They had found my keys and had handed them over.
I had been mugged, and yet I had everything that I’d had before.
Maybe.
“Okay, you’re going to come home with me, okay,” Violet said, her voice soft.
“I just want to go home,” I whispered. “The cats.”
Violet just smiled. “Meadow’s going to take care of your cats for you. And Beckham’s going to go with her so she’s not alone. No one’s going to be alone tonight. You’re going to come home with me. I’m going to tuck you in and love you and do my best not to freak out. Because if I freak out, then Mace and Adrienne will be right here. You know our big brother tried to get in that car and drive up here. But I wouldn’t let him. He will be here tomorrow, though, and we can’t stop that. But tonight, you’re coming home with me. Okay?”
Violet was talking very calmly, very precisely, and I just nodded. I didn’t want to be alone, not really. But my babies were at the house. Though if Meadow and Beckham were going to take care of them, then that would be okay.
“What about Aiden?”
Violet and Harmony and Meadow all shared a look, and they stiffened.
“What about Aiden?” I repeated.
“The guys are with him now. He’s going to go home a bit later than you. But we can wait if you’d like. He broke his hand. It’s not a bad break, but it’s enough that it’s going to be in a cast for a few weeks.”
Tears filled my eyes, and I started shaking.
“But he needs to work. How can he do that?”
“They’re going to figure it out. And Dillon is ready to step in. We’re all going to be fine. You just need to worry about yourself for now. Aiden will be just fine.” I looked at Harmony and nodded, but I couldn’t really focus.
Because while I might be bruised and still in shock, I wasn’t the one going home in a cast.
Aiden was the one hurt. All because I thought I could take care of myself.
I had been wrong.
And the guy I’d had a crush on for so long, the man that I secretly loved even though I shouldn’t, had been hurt because of me.
If I hadn’t had my pride, he would be fine.
It was all my fault.
Chapter Two
Aiden
I knew I had a temper, but damn, this week? I felt like my rage was out of control.
And there was nothing I could do about it.
My hand hurt, my head hurt, and I was just so pissed off at the world, that it felt like nothing I did was the right thing.
It had been four days since I had seen Sienna. Four days since I had seen her pinned against that wall, fighting with everything she had, but both of us afraid that it wouldn’t be enough.
I had been so damn scared.
Was still scared. I hadn’t been just scared in that moment though, I had been angry as all hell that someone dared to touch her. They’d made her feel unsafe. They’d tried to steal her pur
se, her phone, and God knew what else. They probably made her doubt herself, and that killed me. Because Sienna never doubted herself. She was the most confident woman I knew. So much so that she annoyed the hell out of me sometimes because we butted heads over it. Over her. Over me. Over all of it. But now, she was hurt, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
I was scared right at this very moment just thinking about it.
And so angry.
I hadn’t seen Sienna since that night. I hadn’t talked to her. Held her. I hadn’t done a damn thing.
That worried me more than it probably should have. Or maybe not enough.
Did she blame me?
Maybe she should. Because I hadn’t been there. I had left her alone. When I voiced my concern, she had waved me off, and I left her.
I should have stayed.
Maybe if I had stayed, she wouldn’t have been hurt.
Maybe if I had stayed, she wouldn’t have been scared.
Maybe if I had stayed, I wouldn’t have broken my fucking hand.
Maybe if I had stayed, I wouldn’t be lost as to what the hell I was going to do.
Because I truly had no idea what the fuck to do.
I sat in my house, in the dark even though it was light outside. I just hadn’t opened my blinds, and I didn’t really want to.
I wasn’t allowed to work yet, even to stand in the kitchen and order people around.
The doctors said that I might be able to soon, but my brothers told me I needed to stay at home. I needed to rest. I needed to get to a hundred percent mentally before I could step foot in that kitchen and try to figure out what the fuck I was going to do.
For all I knew, the whole place that I had helped rebuild was just going down in flames.
Yeah, I might be a little egocentric, but I wasn’t so much so that I thought that no one could run things without me. But, still. I was the one who had made the menu. I was the one who had taught everyone in that kitchen what they needed to do.
I was the one who had fired a couple of people who didn’t like the change and wanted to do things the way they had been.
The thing was, they hadn’t really been doing too good of a job under Jack. But my dad had wanted to keep them on because he had a hard time firing people.
He hadn’t had such a hard time when I was younger, but as he’d gotten older, after he had lost Rose, he’d had a harder time keeping the good people on staff and not firing those who didn’t need to be there.
Maybe it was sentiment, perhaps he just hadn’t cared anymore after losing his wife.
My mom.
I didn’t know what Jack had been thinking those months, but the almost failing of the bar wasn’t just on him. It was on the whole lot of us, and the fact that we Connollys hadn’t been there to help him. I had spent the last few months changing my life, completely putting myself into the place that had been my father’s, my mother’s, my family’s. And now I wasn’t there to see it through.
Because I’d broken my fist on some fucker’s face.
Yeah, I was pissed off. But maybe it was what I deserved.
Regardless, Sienna hadn’t deserved any of that.
And I hadn’t spoken to her since the incident.
Oh, I wanted to. I wanted to make sure that she was okay, but all I had been able to do was look at her in the distance when she passed me in the emergency room and nodded at me.
She nodded at me, even though she wouldn’t say a word.
She had been pale, her eyes wide, a little glassy.
I had never seen Sienna like that.
She was seriously one of the strongest, bravest people I had ever met in my life, and she was always in your face—loud, happy, and helpful.
She was like that Pinkie, the pink unicorn that bounced around on that little pony show that my ex-girlfriend had made me watch at one point. The fact that I was now worried that maybe Sienna wasn’t a unicorn, but maybe just a regular pony told me that the pain meds might be making me a little off right then.
But that was life.
Sienna wouldn’t talk to me. I had texted her once, and she hadn’t texted back.
Maybe she had been sleeping, or perhaps she couldn’t deal with me.
Nobody wanted to deal with me.
I was a grumpy asshole. I was proud of that usually, but now, I didn’t know what to do.
Because Sienna was hurt. Yeah, so was I, but she had been hurt because I hadn’t been there.
And I would kill the motherfucker who did it.
My doorbell rang, and I narrowed my eyes at it, annoyed at the damn door and anyone who would be at my house.
How could I brood and growl alone in the dark if someone was at my place?
Maybe I should leave the house. You know, cook and go to my place of business and actually do something productive rather than just sitting here wondering if I was going to waste away along with my accomplishments.
I wasn’t even a damn sous chef anymore. I wasn’t working at a Michelin-starred restaurant and being the best I could possibly be.
I was working at a damn bar, though one I was proud of.
But I wasn’t really working at all right now, was I?
I wasn’t doing anything.
The key in the lock turned, and Brendon and Cameron walked in, Dillon following closely behind them.
“I gave you that key for emergencies, assholes,” I muttered under my breath, leaning back into the cushions of the couch.
Cameron flipped me off and closed the door behind him, while Dillon stuffed his hands into his pockets.
Brendon just shook his head. “Dear God, have you even showered today?”
I held up my wrist that was still in the cast. “Kind of hard to shower with this. So, why don’t you just fuck off?”
“Wow, aren’t you in a good mood?”
“I don’t know,” Cameron said, talking to Dillon and Brendon and ignoring me, “it sounds about the same type of mood that he’s usually in. Maybe with a little more grime. God, you stink.”
“I do not stink. I showered earlier. So, everyone just shut the fuck up.” At least I put on pants, I thought to myself. Pants were good.
Pants were a sign of the sane.
No, not really. I was officially losing my damn mind.
“Well, if you say you’re clean, I’m going to call you a liar,” Cameron said quickly. “But, we’re just here to check on you.”
“I don’t need a bunch of mother hens checking on me. I’m fine.”
Dillon came up and sat on the other end of the couch and just stared. “Really, Aiden?”
I looked at my youngest brother and narrowed my eyes. I didn’t know Dillon as well as I knew my other brothers, but then again, Dillon had just entered my life.
I hadn’t known he even existed, not until he’d shown up for Jack’s funeral with Cameron.
He was my half-brother, we shared a mother. When Cameron and I were younger, our mom hadn’t been the best mother, and our dad had been long out of the picture. She had lost custody of us, and the foster system had split us up.
I hadn’t even seen my own twin for a couple of years when we were kids until Jack and Rose ended up taking us in, along with Brendon. So, Brendon, Cameron, and I had ended up growing up as brothers, and eventually, were adopted into the Connolly family.
Dillon however, was a few years younger than us and ended up staying with our mom.
Our biological mom that is.
When the piece of trash that called herself our mother called Cameron for help, which we later found out was because she was about to lose custody of Dillon, Cameron had gone to California, and I had been a douche about it.
I could admit that now. I had been a horrible human being. And I would regret that ‘til the end of my days.
We hadn’t known exactly why our birth mom needed us at the time, only that she’d said she needed us there. I assumed it had been for money or drugs or for something else I didn’t want to deal w
ith. But Cameron had the softer heart, so Cameron had gone, and found out about Dillon.
And I had felt like I lost my twin. I felt betrayed. As if everything we had worked for to make our new family wasn’t worth it. As if Cameron didn’t want any of it.
And so, I’d stayed. I left my brother to deal with whatever the woman wanted. And when Cameron had tried to contact Brendon and me to tell us about Dillon, I hadn’t answered those calls. I had thrown away the letters. Deleted the emails.
I had done everything I could to ignore the fact that Cameron was my blood because I was just so pissed.
I was hurt, and I had lashed out. And I had been a fucking idiot.
So, I hadn’t known that Dillon was my brother until he showed up at Cameron’s side, an eighteen-year-old kid about to start college and in need of a family.
Cameron had helped to raise the kid, and I hadn’t been there.
I had lost my brother, more than one actually, and I would never forgive myself.
But now the kid was here, and we were doing okay. Cameron and I had talked things out, and Brendon and I had done the same since Brendon had taken my cue and cut out Cameron, as well.
It had been a few months now, but I was getting used to the fact that Dillon was my brother. It was even kind of cool.
He wasn’t too much of an idiot, even though he had done some pretty stupid things when he was a younger teenager. Like lying about applying for colleges. Because of that, he missed out on his first semester. Cameron had torn him a new one, but I thought Dillon had learned his lesson. Now, the kid was finally in the middle of his first semester at UCD, taking some gen-ed courses while he figured out what he wanted to do.
Although I had a feeling he was going to end up in culinary school like me. That was pretty cool. The fact that the kid I hadn’t really known, the one that I hadn’t helped raise, wanted to follow in my footsteps…yeah, pretty cool.
I didn’t think it had anything to do with me, though. Because, like I said, even though my ego was pretty large, I wasn’t that much of an idiot. Okay, I was, but still.
Dillon just liked working with food, enjoyed figuring out new recipes and trying some of the basics. And he was really damn good at it.
Falling With You: A Fractured Connections Novel Page 2