Sam shot a worried glance at Deirdre and left. The door closed behind him, but Deirdre was still one step away from opening it again.

Brendan gritted through his pain and beckoned. “Come here, Deirdre.”

She did not move. Instead, she asked, “Doesn’t your wound need to be addressed?”

Brendan’s eyes glinted. “Are you concerned about me?”

Deirdre snickered. “Is that even possible?”

Brendan’s eyes dimmed. “No,” he remarked with a slight hint of self-deprecation.

Deirdre clenched her hands. “Glad we’re on the same page. Now, I'm going if there’s nothing else for me here.”

“Where to? It’s late at night.”

“Downstairs where I can sleep. Or maybe share a bed with Mrs. Engel.”

Brendan’s eyes turned cold. His tone turned firm, like an order. “Come here.”

Deirdre was about to say something when he interjected warningly, “You know how I’m like, right? Don’t make me say it twice.”

If she made him say it twice, there would be consequences. Deirdre had no idea what kind it could be, but s