I took a sip of my coffee, trying to process what he was telling me. "What happens if she continues like this?"
His expression grew grave. "Short-term? More episodes like today. Confusion, fatigue, potential seizures. Long-term? Kidney damage, vision loss, nerve damage, increased risk of heart attack and stroke." He paused. "She's young, but her body is already showing signs of stress from poor management. This isn't sustainable."
The clinical assessment hit me like a physical blow. I'd known she was struggling, but I hadn't understood the stakes.
"What does she need?" I asked, my voice rougher than I intended.
"Proper medical care, for starters. Regular check-ups, consistent access to insulin and testing supplies, nutritional guidance." Dr. Atkins tapped his fingers against the mug. "And stability. Stress makes blood sugar management more difficult, and from what I can see, her entire life is one big stress point."
I thought about her cramped apartment, the dangerous neighborhood, the job that barely paid enough to survive. And now someone had broken in.
“Any other patient in that condition, I would have admitted them immediately, but from what she said I don’t trust her not to run as soon as she woke up.”
“She said she has no insurance.”
Doc’s frown turned into bewilderment. “But I can think of three programs off the top of my head that offer free or heavily discounted insulin, along with support as necessary.”
I shared his confusion. “Is it possible she didn’t know?”
“Without knowing her home life I can’t say.” He told me what to keep an eye out for and that he would be back in the morning. “See what you can get her to tell you.” He hesitated. “Look, again, I don’t want to make assumptions, but she said she’s had this since she was a child so she should be well-adjusted, but she seems overwhelmed and she wouldn’t look at the needle when I used it.”
“Meaning?”
“It’s just gotten to be too much for her or it’s simply painful. She’s covered in more smaller bruises than I saw before because I was focused on her injuries from the attack, and there are more modern ways of getting her insulin, autopens for example. I’ve seen patients so scared of the needles that they have to psych themselves up before tensing their muscles and rushing it, making it painful.” He stood. “I have a contact at the clinic she uses so I’ll be speaking to them in the morning to find out what’s going on.”
I showed the doc out and tried not to feel overwhelmed myself. I didn’t know anything about diabetes. But then I came to a halt just as I was about to climb the stairs. Maybe I did know someone, and I called Xavier immediately. I was pretty sure I’d seen a note in an employee's file from Kingdom, and admitted what had happened.
"You need Fiona," Xavier said without hesitation. I could hear voices in the background—he was still at Kingdom, our second and newly opened nightclub that he managed.
"Who's Fiona?" I asked, keeping my voice low as I glanced toward the living room where Lottie slept.
"She's one of my servers. Type two diabetic since she was a teenager. Got it all figured out now, but she went through some rough patches." There was a pause, and I heard him speaking to someone else before he returned to the call. "She's workingtonight, but I can send her home early so she can come over in the morning if that helps."
Relief washed through me. Servers often didn’t finish until two or three a.m. on weekends. "That would be...yeah. Thanks."
"She's good people," Xavier continued. "Real straight-shooter. If your girl's struggling with management, Fiona can talk her through the practical stuff better than any doctor."
"She's not my girl," I said automatically, though the protest sounded weak even to my own ears.
Xavier's laugh was knowing. "Sure she's not. That's why you broke into her apartment."
"I was concerned," I muttered, heat rising to my face despite being alone in the hallway.
“Walker, you're a dominant,” Xavier said patiently, like he was talking to a teenager, “and I know the shit you’ve been through in the last few months has sent you off your game, but you know how to deal with this.”
“Being a Dominant’s one thing. Being an asshole is completely different,” which Maddox had pointed out to me. I wasn’t a bully and I'd already made a mistake once.But you feel like one.
"Uh-huh. Fiona will be there around nine. Try not to kidnap anyone else before then."
I hung up, shaking my head at Xavier's teasing. He wasn't entirely wrong, though. I'd overstepped—massively—and now I needed to figure out how to make it right.
But Lottie had come looking for a Daddy. ADaddy,not someone to tie her to a St. Andrew's cross.
I returned to the living room, settling into the armchair across from where Lottie slept. Her breathing was deep and even now, her face relaxed in a way I hadn't seen before. Even when she'd slept in my guest room after the attack, there had been a tension to her, a wariness that didn't fully dissipate even in sleep.
The IV bag Doc had hung was nearly empty. I knew how to remove it when it finished. I was used to emergency field medicine, but not things like diabetes. Still, I planned to check her blood sugar every few hours, just to be safe. Doc was arranging a delivery in an hour, even at this time. He’d explained basal or background insulin to me, but because of her poor diet it wasn’t managing her levels properly, but until he’d spoken to her clinic, he didn’t want to change anything. He’d also told me what she should eat for breakfast.
I reached for the remote and turned on the TV, keeping the volume low. It wasn't like I was going to sleep anyway. Not with Lottie here, vulnerable and ill because I'd completely misunderstood what was happening with her. Taking a deep breath, I sent a group text to my brothers, or the three I considered family, explaining about Lottie but also telling them I needed her break-in from yesterday investigated. Maddox immediately said he had his laptop with him and would start digging. Gideon told me anything I needed, it was mine. That made my throat tighten a little. Then Dion added that as soon as Lottie was ready for friends Emily, Clare, and Abby would all be there. I nodded even though they couldn’t see me, and they all said they’d update me in the morning.
