Page 59 of Seeley


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I started the donations when I found out she was there. Because if she was still that fucking passionate about that mission of hers, she deserved every penny of it.

I’m not proud to admit this part, but I sometimes drove there, parked, just wanting to get a look at her. No matter how much it gutted me.

And she seemed… happy.

Or maybe not happy, but content.

She was always too tired, always running herself ragged, but she did it with passion and purpose.

I’m even less proud to admit to this part, but I did follow her once after work. Some possessive, jealous-ass part of me wanting to see if she met up with any guy. She didn’t. She just went to her apartment in a building that was about two steps up from the one we’d grown up in. Which wasn’t saying much for it.

Which was why when I knew she was at work one day, I went ahead and threw my weight around, finding the local organization operating in that area, and letting them know that Ama was off-fucking-limits.

I guess I never foresaw the harm coming to her showing up in the form of patients, or assholes breaking into the clinic.

But it wasn’t like there was anything I could do about that anyway.

Eventually, I forced myself away from there, knowing how toxic it was for me, how borderline—if not outright—creepy it was.

Until, of course, Cato got shot.

And the clinic was the only place I could think to take him.

Then there she was.

Beautiful.

Talented.

Kind.

And absolutely brimming with hatred for me.

Even after all the years, all the space between.

I couldn’t even blame her for it, either.

“What’s going on?” Huck’s voice asked, making both Cato and Levee jump. Levee jerked his head toward me, making Huck’s gaze follow. One look at me had him letting out a sigh. “This is that hot doctor shit, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Yep,” Levee said.

“Should I be worried?” Huck asked as I stared out the window, just trying to shut my mind down, to keep thoughts of her from invading for five fucking minutes.

“Depends,” Levee said.

“On what?”

“If it would worry you that he is prone to drinking and taking on entire gangs of guys in a fight when he’s pining after Amaranta.”

“Sounds like a biker to me,” Huck said, shrugging. “Will he snap out of it long enough to do the meeting with the new arms dealer?” he asked.

“I’m sitting right fucking here,” I said, glancing over at them.

“Alright. Well, are you going to snap out of this shit enough to do the meeting?”

“I’ll be fine to do the meeting,” I assured him.

“I probably shouldn’t believe you,” Huck said. “But you’ve never given me reason to doubt you before. Alright. Well, enjoy your… moping. I am going to go wrestle some kids to sleep.”

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