And maybe he was right. Maybe it would cost him his privileges, his credibility, his whole damn career. And that wouldn’t be fair. He didn’t do a single thing wrong.
Terrence, on the other hand, is going to pay. And I’m only accepting teeth as currency.
My jaw locks, grip tightening on the wheel. My other hand settles on Yosh’s hip.
Amsterdam taught me enough about nightmares to recognise what’s happening. The confusion. The forced calm. Waiting it out, hoping it passes.
Yosh isn’t like me. He probably doesn’t know this shit.
“Love,” I murmur, nudging his hip.
Nothing. Just a slow movement of his arm and a groan.
Fuck.
How the hell am I supposed to get him into Arcadia like this? It’s not that we can climb over the wall this time.
I sigh, turning my eyes back to the road. There’s still a long drive ahead, and all I can do is hope he sobers up before we get there.
The moment we pass theWest Covesign, I pull over to the side of the road.
Yosh braces himself against the dashboard, eyes fluttering open and shut. He looks a little more awake now, but he’s nowhere near okay.
I study him, trying to figure out what the hell was in that drink. Whatever it was, it’s stronger than anything I’ve seen.
Well, almost.
My stomach twists. One night flashes through my mind. Mixing everything. Pushing too far. Nearly not coming back.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I should’ve taken him to the hospital straight away, even when he’d begged me not to.
But regret won’t help him now. He needs the infirmary at Arcadia, whether he likes it or not.
“Yosh,” I begin, keeping my voice steady.
“No.” He shoves off the dashboard, fighting to keep his gaze steady. He knows exactly what I’m about to suggest.
“But maybe—”
“I said no!”
He snaps louder than I expect, even like this. It’s enough to make me second-guess my next move. I look up at the round moon, glowing bright in the black sky. I fold my arms around my body.
This isn’t up for debate. I’ll have to do what’s right, even if he hates me for it.
His hand clamps around my arm.
“Listen,” he says, voice thick. “I’m a Doctor. I know best. I’ve expe… ex… had this before. I want… to wait it out.”
The words stack unevenly, like he’s reading from a list he can barely remember.
I look back at him.
“Yeah,” I murmur. “Not happening, Doc.”
I reach for the keys.
