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“He’s not the only one, you know. You’re being a little one-sided here, Doc. Care to take it down a notch.” His nosiness is starting to piss me off. I know I owe the man for what he did to help me, but I am in control of my life now. No one else.
“I don’t get into other people’s business. But I was the one who stitched him up and brought him back from the brink when all he wanted was the fast way off this mortal coil.” He pauses and inhales long and hard before continuing. “Look, Asena. The Druid has been sending me gunshot wound victims for years. None have ever made it except him.” Doc looks over my shoulder to Hark. “Makes me kinda protective of the stubborn bastard.”
Now I understand. Damn. Deep down inside I wonder if the Doc blames me for what happened? I know I do. The thought brings a sort of nauseating fear I haven’t felt since passing my newborn baby over to someone else to care for.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Don’t let anyone see your pain.
“Was that during your time in the ER?”
Doc nods the look of death stealing over his expression. “Dragon was lucky while the man that came in with him was not.”
His handler. I vaguely remember another man in my father’s office that night. I turn my body to block the light pouring in from the hallway so it doesn’t bother Hark.
“How did you go from being an ER doctor to this? A biker gang’s in-house doctor?” I can’t imagine he woke up one day and just decided to walk away from his career.
“They are more than a gang. They are a brotherhood fighting where the law can’t step. The night I saved Dragon I knew I needed to go to the fight and be part of caring for those who could take down people like your father, the Volkovs, and the Antonovs of the world. Ares is an old friend I leaned on back then. For myself and for Dragon.”
I know bullshit when I hear it. Oh, I believe him when he says he brought Hark to the Savages. But the way he just knew he needed to go to the fight? Yeah… that’s fishy. Doc is hiding something. Like I said, you don’t just walk away from a perfectly well-paying job you spent years working toward to play a hero in a basement. But if I pry, he’ll do the same right back and I can’t afford for him to tell Hark about my daughter.
“So you are responsible for him being here? With the Savages?”
Another nod. “He didn’t belong with the force anymore but he needed a place—people—who understood his unique position. So did I.”
I know I shouldn’t but I have to ask. “Who caused you so much pain? I see it in your eyes.” I put a hand on his arm, truly worried for the man who spends so much time caring for others.
Dark brows pull together over an expression filled with grief. “It doesn’t matter anymore sweetheart.” His demeanor shifts. Fortified shields erect around him. He might as well be a sorcerer with how fast the invisible fortress around his heart pops into place.
Hot tears rim my eyes for the man and it brings me back to Hark’s suffering. Both men are so damn stubborn. Then again, am I not the same?
“You are not your father’s child. I see that just by looking in your eyes. His were black and soulless.” He lifts a hand and brushes the backs of his fingers over my cheek. “Yours, sweetheart, show the pain he put you through.” He pauses a second, his warm touch lingering on my face. For a second, I think he’s going to say something else but at the last second, he seals his lips, only a sad smile hinging the corners up a fraction.
To me he seems way too young to be so jaded and broken. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s about Hark’s age, but grief has made him look years older. And the wisdom he carries costs him deeply. He speaks as if his soul is drenched in three lifetimes’ worth of anguish.
His hand moves to settle on my shoulder. “You need to tell him. Dragon deserves to know he has a daughter out there to live for. Give him much longer and he’ll end up where Devil is one way or another.”
“Why do you care so much?”
I hear Hark shifting in the bed and turn to see his face contorted in pain.
“I lost someone close to me. Let’s leave it at that.” Fingers squeeze into flesh. “Go to him. He needs you, sweetheart.”
God, this man made me want to throw my arms around him, and not let go, but he’s already moving down the hallway from me. Though I know the smarter part of me says I can’t take the weight of the world on my shoulders, seeing Doc suffer is one burden I wish I could help shoulder.
I watch Doc’s retreating back with a million other questions on my tongue. Something else happened. Something to put that somber look on his face and I know my family is behind whatever put that pain in Doc’s eyes.
Just more lives my bastard father ruined. More sin loaded onto my shoulders and more problems I’m left figuring out how to fix.
I close the door and seeing Hark resting easy once again I head for the shower.
I strip out of my ruined and likely cursed dress and stuff it into the trash. Silk bulges from the sides. Maybe tomorrow I can find a barrel, some gasoline, and a match for it. I mentally tack on finding a Voodoo priestess and some sage while I’m at it.
Warm water runs over my tight muscles. I stand in the steam and blistering heat of the water. I don’t know if I hope the burn will cleanse me or prepare me for the hell that is coming for me, but I welcome the pain.
In the silence, the last thirty-six hours pour over me and I can’t carry the burden any longer. With no witnesses, I fall to my knees and let the demons hunting me feast on the darkest parts of my being. Around me, the water runs pink with remnants of blood from my hair.
