“He sounds like an amazing man.”
“He is. You’d like him.”
“Let’s just hope he likes me,” Dylan said. “Now, start packing. We’re heading out today.”
“We are?” She felt a stab of disappointment. “We’re going home?” They couldn’t stay here forever, but she didn’t feel ready to face reality quite yet.
“Much as I’d like to stay, I need to get back to work. However, there is something I need to do first.”
“What’s that?”
“I need to ask your father’s permission to marry you.”
Chapter Twelve
Rogan stepped into the pleasantly decorated room. It wasn’t large, just enough room for a bed, a small sitting area, and a set of drawers. There was an attached private bathroom. It looked more like a hotel suite rather than a hospital. The hallways didn’t smell like disinfectant and there were no nurses rushing around or doctors making rounds.
But it was still a hospital.
He hated hospitals.
However, he’d made a promise and he always followed through on his word. Many people thought he didn’t have a moral code. But he did. His idea of right and wrong just didn’t necessarily follow the rest of society’s.
Rogan took a seat next to the bed. While her doctors had assured him that a mix of medication and psychotherapy was the best course to follow, he couldn’t see much of an improvement.
Of course, he mainly visited her at night when he knew she was sleeping, so it was hard for him to judge. But she seemed even thinner and listless. Far too fragile for his peace of mind.
Suddenly her eyes opened and he stiffened, certain she was about to pierce his eardrums.
She gasped in alarm, but thankfully didn’t scream. With a frightened look on her face, she scooted her way up the bed, putting her arms around her legs as she studied him.
“Who are you? What are you doing here?”
“My name’s Rogan MacGuire. I’m—”
“I know who you are. You’re paying for all of this.”
“I was under the impression that information was buried,” he said. Obviously he needed to have another chat with the head of this facility. He was paying through the teeth for anonymity.
“I bullied them into telling me,” she explained. “You’ve visited me before, haven’t you?”
“How do you know that?”
“Your voice. I had dreams about it. I guess I heard you talking in my sleep.”
Rogan nodded.
“Why are you helping me? What do you want?” He detested the look of fear on her face.
“I don’t want anything, except for you to get better. I’m doing this because of your friend, Tilly. Her boyfriend is a good friend of mine.”
“Tilly doesn’t have a boyfriend,” she said suspiciously.
“She does now. They haven’t been together long.”
“Is she okay? The Vipers didn’t get to her, did they?”
“Tilly’s fine. She wanted to stay with you, but that just wasn’t safe. I promised her I’d take care of you.”