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I found her sleeping on her couch, a bottle of cheap wine still in her hands. Swiping it out of her grip, I crouched next to her. “Lynny, wake up.” Finding her in this state was becoming a common occurrence. Marilyn had never been a drinker, but lately she’d started, and I hated watching her sink further into a depressed state.

She stirred as I nudged her.

“You took the day off work?” I asked.

Nodding, she sat up slowly. “Yeah.” She grimaced in pain and placed her hand against her forehead. “God, why did you wake me?”

“You feel like hell?”

“Don’t give me grief, Nitro. I needed to take the edge off.”

I stood. “I get it, but fuck, you’re not even trying.”

Anger filled her features and she stood, too. “I have been trying.”

“No,” I snapped. “You were trying. Now, you’ve given up, and I’ll be fucked if I’m gonna let you fucking give up. Not after everything we’ve been through already.”

I watched as the anger seeped out of her, hating every second of that, because I didn’t want her to lose that feeling. You could run on anger, and I needed Lynny to fucking run. “I’m tired of trying. That man….” Her voice drifted off and tears streamed down her face. “He wrecked me, Nitro.” Staring at me through those tears, she uttered the words I’d feared for years, “I don’t want to try anymore. I’m done.”

Fuck.

I wrapped my hands around her biceps and held on tight. “That man is dead. He can’t hurt you anymore. And you are not fucking done.”

“You don’t get it. I don’t want to go on.”

I let her go and she dropped back down to the couch. Raking my fingers through my hair, I paced the small room, my mind turning over possibilities for dealing with this situation. Eventually, I pulled out my phone and called her doctor.

She sat motionless and watched as I made an appointment for her. After I ended the call, I yanked her up and said, “Get dressed, your appointment is in forty minutes.”

“He can’t help me.”

Red blurred my vision and my muscles tensed. Anger punched through me, and while I knew I wasn’t so much enraged by her, but by the asshole who did this, I couldn’t contain it while around her. One look at my sister and all I could think about was him. And I couldn’t stop myself from spewing words laced with the anger that consumed me. “Yes, he can, and he will. And you will let him. I’m not taking no for an answer, Marilyn. You got that?”

She shrunk away from me as I bellowed my order. When I’d finished, she slapped my face. “Fuck you! You’re supposed to be on my side. You’re not supposed to treat me like shit.”

I forced out a harsh breath and scrubbed my face. This was not going down how it should have. And yet, I kept going, fuelled by a desperate need to save my sister. Yanking her to her bedroom, I ripped open her closet. “Choose something to wear, put it on and meet me in the lounge room within five minutes.” I turned to leave the room without waiting for her reply. As I left, I barked, “This is me being on your side, Lynny. Fucking deal with it.”

* * *

“Thank you.”

Eyeing Renee, I nodded. “She fought us all the way, but in the end she agreed to go voluntarily.”

I’d just returned from the hospital where Marilyn had been admitted. Her doctor held the same concerns I did, so he’d pushed for her to agree to treatment.

“Should I pack a bag for her and take it to the hospital?”

“Yeah.” I checked my watch. “I’ll come back in about two hours to take you. I’ve just got some club stuff to do.”

“Okay.”

“And you’ll stay with me while she’s there.” At her frown, I added, “Don’t argue with me, Renee. I’ve got some serious shit going on with the club at the moment and I don’t need to be worrying about you out there on your own.”

Her frown morphed into a scowl. “I swear, you’d think you were my father with the way you carry on.”

A text from Hyde distracted me.

Hyde: Where are you? Got a problem with Sutherland.

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