58. -57-
Dorian
Nina was right. The moment I entered Malin’s room, the fear, pain, and anxiety returned with full force.
Aryna’s cheerful smile helped me hold on to the calm that settled in my chest after spending the morning with Zyon and a brief moment with Nina.
Still, once I closed the door to that sterile, claustrophobic room with beeping machines and tubes, everything collapsed.
My mind swirled with horrible scenarios, imagining the consequences of brain damage and a coma. I replayed the entire surgery over and over again, analyzing if I had made a mistake that could cause this.
We did everything right, the demon lashed out in my head, the darkness swallowing my rational thoughts. Right! Right! Right!
My hands pressed against the sides of my skull on instinct.
I bent over and slowly crouched down at the end of Malin’s bed, sealing my lips so no noise escaped.
I wanted him to shut up, to disappear and let me suffer alone.
But the more I tried to get rid of him, the stronger he was. He blossomed on my misery and fear.
“Doctor?”
I jolted out of my trance, realizing I was kneeling on the floor. One of my new residents, Linda, ran to me.
“Should I call someone?”
She dropped to her knees beside me, concern on her face.
“No, I’m fine,” I exhaled, pushing myself up. My body trembled, and my palms were sweaty, but I forced a smile. “I lost the pin from Malin’s chart. It’s probably under the bed.”
“And what happened to your face?” Her eyes widened in shock.
“Sparring session,” I sighed. “I’m okay.”
She didn’t believe me. I could tell from the doubtful look she cast at me, but instead of questioning me, she stood up and pointed to the tray she brought.
“I’m here to change the bandages.”
“I’ll do it,” I said, finally having a chance to feel useful. “You can go. Take a coffee break or something.”
“I can help…” she started, but I shook my head resolutely.
“I’m good. Go.”
Thankfully, she listened and left the room. I let out a shaky breath and grabbed the footboard to steady myself.
You caused this, the demon seethed. It’s your fault. You made him like this!
“Stop. Seriously, stop,” I mumbled under my breath. “Or I’ll swear to God I’ll sedate myself.”
He snickered, but let me do my job. My hands steadied as I reached for the sterile gloves. I examined the incision, looking for signs of infection, unusual redness, or swelling, but everything looked as it should. Malin’s body was healing like any other patient’s, yet his mind refused to follow.
“I told Nina about our first kidnapping,” I revealed while checking the JP drain. “She deserves to know about the fucker inside my head.” I emptied the collection bulb and replaced the dressing. “She took it surprisingly well, considering I admitted I committed murder at eight.”
I chuckled, glancing at Malin’s bruised face.
“How many of them did we commit together, huh?” I stripped off the gloves and tossed them onto the tray.
“Disposing of bodies is another category, right?” I plopped on the chair beside him.
“Or hunts. Your perfect hunts with dogs, snakes, and…” My heart jumped with excitement at the sudden memory.
“Bees. That one was epic. Do you remember? It was glorious payback.”
Leaning closer, I tenderly took Malin’s bandaged hand, a huge lump blocking my throat.
“Unforgettable,” I mumbled.
Tears fell down my cheeks at the thought of never doing those things with him again. I’d never experienced so much fun with Zyon as I did with Malin.
Street fights, illegal races, gambling, truth and dare that got out of hand—we’d done it all. Malin always looked bored, but I knew he enjoyed it, too. It was our way of coping with the world we were born into.
While Zyon carried the responsibility of being our boss, Malin and I were the enforcers, strategists, security, backup, whatever the family needed us to be.
How the fuck could I do it alone? I couldn’t do it alone. I didn’t want to.
The gentle ping of my phone cut through the sadness gnawing on my chest, and I wiped my cheeks. Unlocking the screen, I exhaled a tiny laugh.
Wifey: You know Malin is too scary for heaven or hell. They will kick him back to us.
Her efforts to lift my mood were adorable, but I decided not to continue the topic. Instead, I typed.
Me: Can you stop stalking me? It’s creepy.
The response lit up my phone half a minute later.
Wifey: No. I’m allowed to know where my husband is and with whom. Mine, remember?
Me: It’s still creepy, ma vilaine.
The three dots appeared almost instantly. I waited for her reply with a stupid grin, biting my lower lip.
“You’re so fucked,” the raspy voice said as the message came.
“Yes, I am,” I confirmed, the words settling a heartbeat later. My eyes grew wide in a millisecond. I whipped my head toward Malin, my gaze colliding with his bored one.
“You’re awake,” I exhaled in shock. The phone slipped from my fingers and hit the floor.
“Great observation, Sherlock,” he groaned, trying to move.
I jumped to my feet and checked the monitors before shining my penlight into his eyes. His pupils reacted perfectly, but I still struggled to comprehend that he’d just woken up. Just like that, as if it were another fucking Thursday!
“What took you so long?” I asked, but quickly remembered I was a doctor first. “Forget that,” I said. “How many fingers do you see?”
“Three,” Malin frowned, answering correctly. “And your… fucked-up face in the background.”
“Focus. Can you squeeze my hand?” I placed mine in his, and his fingers enclosed my palm. It wasn’t firm, but the reaction was there.
“Great, do you know where you are?”
“In hell,” he groaned. “Who kicked… your ass?”
“Zyon.” I chuckled, wiping my nose. Relief washed over me like a wave. The chain, squeezing my chest for days, finally loosened its crushing hold on me.
“I took a nap for a… moment.” He rolled his eyes, and my grin grew wider.
“You’re back.” Tears of pure happiness fell down my cheeks. “Fuck, I was scared.”
“And sentimental.” Malin raised a brow but grimaced. Half of his face was bruised and swollen. “The first kidnapping?” He paused to take a breath. “You don’t remember half of it.”
“I remember enough,” I replied, my heart skipping beats with joy. “Stay still, I’ll call neuro to check up on you.” I straightened to my full height, grinning like an idiot. “And our mom. She’s been freaking out.” I squeezed his hand. “We all were.”
“Obviously,” he whispered, closing his eyes.
Indescribable peace settled in my chest.
“Rest, I’ll be right back.”
I picked up my phone from the floor and noticed more texts from Nina. I was about to read them when Malin’s weak voice stopped me.
“Wait a second,” he muttered, trying to sit, but he could barely open his eyes. “The other…”
My brows furrowed.
“The other biker?” I asked, and he slowly nodded.
“Dead?”
“No.” I fished in my memory for his condition. “Survived, but they’re not optimistic.”
“Fuck,” Malin cursed under his breath. I took his hand, assuming he knew the guy.
“Sorry, but he took the full blow,” I explained. “Watson did everything he could.”
“He deserves…” Malin exhaled a heavy breath. “Worse. But…” He opened his eyes, exhaustion winning over him, yet he refused to give up. “The boy…”
“What?” I stared at him in confusion. “What boy? No one mentioned a child.”
“He…” Malin’s face contorted with pain. “He knows… where…” His voice broke. He had no strength left.
“Malin.” I touched his cheek, avoiding the swelling, and his eyelids fluttered. “You need rest. Then you’ll tell me everything.”
“No,” he exhaled weakly, so weakly I thought he would pass out. “Find… the boy.” He grasped my hand with surprising force. “Please.”
“What boy?” I whispered. “I need at least a name.”
Malin closed his eyes again, deep breaths lifting his bandaged chest.
“There is… a file,” he said. I sat at the edge of the bed, watching his lips move slowly as my confusion grew with every word he said. “You have to give…” He gulped. “Give it to the… police.”
“Police?” I echoed, doing my best to understand, but it was a mess.
“Y-yes,” he nodded. “Detective Mallory.”
“Malin, what the fuck?” I touched his chin, forcing our eyes to meet. “The boy, the file, the police? What’s going on?”
“Just…” The plea in his irises truly shocked me. “Just do it,” he exhaled. “My office. Black file.” His fingers dug into my skin with urgency. “P-pay someone… outside the family…”
“Okay,” I agreed before he could finish because I knew where he was heading. It was the usual drill. Delivering the files to the authorities, but they couldn’t know they were from us. “But first—”
“No,” he cut me off. “The boy.”
“Fine,” I sighed. “I’ll find someone reliable to deliver the files to Detective Marjory.”
“Mallory,” Malin hissed, glaring at me. “There can’t be… a hint it’s from… us.”
“I know, I know.” I nodded, standing up.
“Don’t… fuck it up.”
My eyes narrowed, but he didn’t notice. He rested his head against the cushion and exhaled heavily. Before I left the room, he was asleep, while I was trying to piece together what the hell he’d just dumped into my lap.