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“Of course I can. There might be times when Huck wants me at the clubhouse, but as a whole, my free time is mine to do whatever I want with. So I plan to be spending a lot of time here.”
“Which means maybe I should be here sometime too.”
“Baby, I’m not asking you to rearrange your life for me. I’ll be here to fit in when you have time.”
“I know you would never ask me to do that, which is maybe all the more reason I think I might want to. I will have to see if I can convince Christian to take on another doctor. I mean, that won’t happen anytime soon, but…”
“Hey,” I said, reaching out for her chin, making her look at me. “I’m here for the long haul. There’s no rush.”
“I guess I just want to make up for lost time,” she admitted.
“Me too,” I agreed. “So, for the time being, we will just have to catch moments when we can,” I told her. “Anything is better than nothing in my opinion. And my schedule is flexible. Now get dressed. You’ll be beating yourself up if you’re late.”
With that, she did.
And as much as I didn’t want to leave her at all, it felt right to be the person dropping her off at work, knowing I was going to be the person picking her up again.
“Yeah?” I asked, picking up my phone when I saw Arty’s number there.
“He’s dead.”
“Who’s dead?” I asked.
There was a short pause before, “The man you’ve been trying to have me track down. The guy who hurt the doctor.”
Shit.
Right.
How the fuck could I forget that?
“Right. Yeah. How did he die? Overdose?”
“No. Guess whatever he got from the clinic wasn’t enough. He did a B&E on the wrong person’s house who happened to sleep with a gun. He’s dead.”
I didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. It was my place to dole out justice to that fucker. For Ama. For the nurse who’d gotten shot.
But on the other hand, I knew Ama wouldn’t have wanted that. What she wanted was for the guy to get help, to recover. She wouldn’t have been happy to hear I’d killed him.
Someone else doing it, though, that was just out of our hands.
“Thanks anyway, man. I know you’re busy. Shoot me a bill and I will have the cash over to you.”
“Okay. And your friend…”
“My friend?” I asked.
“The one who got you knifed in the stomach a few times…”
“Carver, right. Yeah. What about him?”
“He might not be a problem for long either. The chatter I am hearing is that the guy Len who stabbed you is in town and looking for him.”
I knew I should have been rushing over to Carver’s area to track him down and exact my justice first. On principle. He’d been willing to leave me to die. And maybe I should have wanted to get a piece of Len too. But it wasn’t like he’d known who I was. It wasn’t about me, about the club. I was just in his way.
And I just… didn’t give a fuck.
For the first time in my entire life, I didn’t give a fuck about work, about my reputation, about what the club would think of me if I wasn’t on top of everything all the fucking time.
