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“Done,” I say. “Now I need to sew him up.” Caleb hands me dental floss and a needle and I thread it before cleaning the wound again, then I start sewing up his leg.
“Fuck!” Dominic curses, but he’s starting to regain color. “I can’t believe that asshole shot me.”
We all chuckle weakly at his joke, trying to appreciate the humor in a situation like this. “At least you didn’t get shot in the butt,” I offer.
“Yeah, no offense, but I don’t think I would have been able to help her sew up your ass,” Caleb adds.
“How did the fight go with the Serpents?” I ask as I finish sewing his wound closed. “You’re still alive, so I’m guessing it went well?”
Bastian's voice brims with a mix of pride and defiance. “We kicked their asses,” he declares, jutting his chin. “Diego surrendered. He told us what happened with Rich to spare his life, but we took him out anyway.”
“I know you did what you had to do,” I say as I bandage Dominic’s wound with fresh gauze. “He helped Rich get away with murder, and he killed one of your own people.”
“We did what we had to do to keep you safe,” he tells me, a scowl on his face.
“I know you’re mad at me for leaving without saying anything,” I say, my voice wavering.
Bastian’s voice is gruff when he responds, “You’re safe now, that’s all that matters. Just make sure Dominic lives and we’ll be even.”
I know that they were mad at me for leaving without saying anything, but I didn’t think we were back to square one. My heart sinks in my chest and I focus on finish bandaging up Dominic before stepping back to check on him.
I turn and ask Dominic, “How are you feeling?” He gives me a thumbs down.
I nod. “We need to get some painkillers into him. And he needs antibiotics so the wound doesn’t get infected.”
“We know this clinic we can take him to later tonight,” Bastian tells me. “They won’t ask questions, but they aren’t open during the day. The doctor there will give us whatever we need.”
“Right,” I say, heading into the kitchen to get Dominic some analgesics and a glass of water. While I’m in there, I take a moment to gather myself, leaning on the counter with my palms.
After everything we’ve been through, I would understand if they decide they don’t want to be with me anymore. I’ve proven to be nothing but trouble in their lives. Besides that, I’ve done nothing but judge them since I arrived, blaming them for things that were entirely the fault of Dr. Thornton.
Nothing I thought was true is actually true. In reality, the man I’d idolized since I was a teenager was a cold-blooded psychopath, and the thugs I thought were street trash turned out to be the heroes.
I wish I could explain to them how I feel, but I don’t know where we stand anymore. Bastian seems so upset with me and it’s got my stomach in knots. Guilt washes over me, gnawing at me from the inside. I’m the reason their father figure is dead.
“Are you bringing the painkillers?” Caleb calls out. I straighten up and grab them from the drawer before taking a cup out of the cupboard and filling it under the fridge dispenser.
“Be right there!” I call back.
My heart aches in my chest as I walk back into the living room, wondering where we can possibly go from here.
48
BASTIAN
Once the adrenaline has worn off, I feel a weight lift from my shoulders. All the tension I’d been carrying for the past two and a half years feels like it’s suddenly gone.
Learning that Rich was the one who betrayed us and not Emily still has me reeling inside. I blamed Emily for so long and it wasn’t her fault. My heart lies heavy in my chest at the knowledge that she died an innocent woman.
As angry as I am at learning that the person who we trusted more than life itself was a con man, I’m grateful to Emily and Sienna for pursuing the truth, even if it came at great cost.
Emily’s memory will be honored, but first I need to apologize to Sienna. I can tell that she’s been avoiding me, and she’s got a haunted look in her eyes whenever I see her.
I wander downstairs where Dominic is dozing, leg propped up on a pillow on the couch. Sienna is in the kitchen, sitting at the table and staring at her phone. She’s been sleeping on the recliner so she can keep an eye on Dominic as he recovers.
Cornering her, I hold out a stuffed dragon, a peace offering. She looks up at it and smiles, my heart racing with a tumult ofconflicting emotions—guilt for how I’ve treated her, longing for us to reconcile, and a lingering fear that she might still reject me.
“Hey,” I say, waggling the toy in front of her.
