Sucker Punched by Kelley R. Martin

would gladly kick the bucket every goddamn day just for that chance.
    The longer I sit here and think about it, the more it pisses me off. I need to get out of this room and cool off for a bit. The last thing Dad needs is the stress of me putting a fist through the wall.
    “I’ll be back in a minute. You need anything?”
    He shakes his head, glancing at the door one more time before focusing back on the game.
    I swear to God if Declan’s not here in the next five minutes, I’m going to kill him. Then I’m going to shove his ass into Dad’s coffin so they’ll be forced to spend eternity together.
    Getting up, I storm out of the hospital room and into the hallway, where Declan and Savannah are talking in hushed tones. I should be relieved to see him, but it only pisses me off more. Why the fuck is he out here instead of in there with his dad?
    I hitch my thumb behind me, trying my best not to shout. “Get your fucking ass in here and say goodbye to your dying father, you little shit.”
    I lead them back into his room and Dad takes his eyes off the game as we enter. He looks past me, taking in the son he hasn’t seen in more than ten years. 
    I warned him that Declan has. . . decorated himself over the years, so I hope he’s not too surprised.
    Nobody says anything at first, and it’s the most awkward thing you could imagine. You could cut the tension with a knife. And Declan, the fucker, won’t even look anywhere near him. 
    Dad turns down the volume on the game and presses a button on the rail of the hospital bed. It whirs as the back straightens, sitting him up more. “Blake didn’t tell me such a fine lookin’ lady would be gracin’ me with her presence, otherwise I’da put on a nicer hospital gown.” He winks at Savannah, and I stifle an eye roll.
    Dude’s literally on his last legs and what is he doing? Flirting.
    Can’t say I don’t come by it naturally.
    Savannah glances between Declan and me. “Now I see where you two get your charm.”
    “I like this one.”
    She narrows her eyes at Declan. “ This one? Just how many were there?”
    His deer-in-the-headlights expression forces a laugh from me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my brother so awkwardly uncomfortable. I love it.
    He does not. His gaze flicks over to me, promising unspeakable pain, and I try to cover up my laughter with a cough.
    Dad grins from ear to ear. “I really like this one.” He adjusts his pillows and points to the chair next to his bed. “Come on over here and visit with me for a bit. Make a dying man’s day a little brighter.”
    Declan moves the chair closer to the bed and Savannah sits down, murmuring her thanks. He doesn’t say anything, just squeezes her shoulder before resuming his blocked-off stance by the wall.
    Dad watches the whole exchange. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
    “Savannah.”
    “Savannah. That’s a beautiful name. I’m John.” He reaches out to shake her hand. “It ain’t as pretty as yours, but try not to hold that against me.”
    She laughs. “I’ll try.”
    He frowns down at her hand in his. “I don’t see a ring on your finger. Does that mean you’re not a Whitmore yet?”
    She looks over at Declan, frowning. “Not quite.”
    Dad raises a brow as he lets go of her, looking over to Declan. “Well don’t you think we ought to rectify that? Seems to me if my son was smart enough to land you, then he’d be smart enough to keep you.”
    Savannah glances at an unamused Declan, muttering, “You’d think so.”
    As much as I love torturing my brother and seeing him squirm, that was not the point of him coming here tonight. It’s time to address the elephant in the room, and there’s no way that’s going to happen if Declan has an audience.
    “And on that note. . .” My cheeks puff out on a long exhale. Man, I need a cigarette. “I’m gonna run down to the cafeteria and find something to eat. Anybody want anything?”
    “I’ll go with you.” Savannah grabs her