Chapter 28 #3
The new window was open, letting cool, fresh air in. I couldn’t smell the blood or Madame’s scent anymore. My quilt was neatly folded on the exam table. I carefully spread it out, checking for the bloodstains, but Kai had removed them completely. My chest felt tight.
The door opened, and I glanced up, but it was just Tuck. He approached the table, still frowning, as I folded my blanket.
“What’s goin’ on?” he asked.
“Nothin’.”
He exhaled heavily through his nose. “Lemme guess. You got in a fight with Wolf?”
I chewed my lip and didn’t answer.
“Look, you probably already know this, but your brother does not handle feelin’ helpless very well.”
I turned and started flipping through my notebook to see if I needed to restock any of my tinctures.
“He’s worried about you,” Tuck added after a few seconds.
“I can take care of myself,” I muttered, trying not to think about how I’d completely fallen apart and begged for help last night when I was covered in blood.
“Wolf used to say the same thing,” Tuck sounded amused. “Then he’d get a dead-end lead on you and end up gettin’ shitfaced and starting a brawl.”
I tried not to think about how I’d gotten shitfaced and tried to fight Brimstone.
“When I first met him, it was right after Moab. Scar told you about that, right?” I gave a short nod, and he continued.
“He was real fucked up, and not just physically. He thought you were dead; he’d been shot three times, and the grief and trauma of it made him lose the ability to speak.
I’d heard about him but never met him. Scar and I go way back, and I was between jobs, so she asked if I wanted to join her new crew with the infamous Wolf Cutler. ”
I shot a startled glance at him, and he grinned.
“Yeah, your brother made quite the name for himself. I’ve never met anyone who could track a person down so fast. I was a cocky bastard and made the mistake of underestimatin’ him once I saw he was all bandaged up and couldn’t speak.
We went out to a bar one night, and some guys started tryin’ to pick a fight with him.
I tried to step in and help, and they thought I was his bodyguard.
” I must have looked confused because he paused, then explained, “In our line of work, the strongest survive. He had a reputation of bein’ dangerous, but he looked weak—covered in bandages and unable to speak.
If he had hired a bodyguard, it would mean he was weak, and whoever took him down could take his place. ”
My fingers had stilled on the pages of my notebook as I listened. These stories they were sharing about Wolf brought up so many complicated emotions I couldn’t even begin to sort through.
“Your brother went outside and beat the shit out of all three men with one arm in a sling and without saying a damn word.” Tuck huffed a laugh.
“It was one of the most badass things I’ve ever seen, and people in New Salt still talk about it.
Though nobody besides our crew knows he almost died from internal bleeding afterward. ”
My heart lurched, and I tried to calm myself down.
“Honestly, I think he was even scarier when he didn’t speak, but only our crew knew why.
Scar taught him and the rest of us sign language, but it was almost a year before I heard him speak out loud.
” He paused again, and I glanced over to see him smiling sadly.
“He’s a good man, your brother, but he’s got his demons. Try not to judge him too harshly.”
I turned back around, flipping the pages without really seeing them.
“So why aren’t you at breakfast?” Tuck asked.
“Just didn’t want to,” I muttered.
“Alright.”
I glanced at him, startled.
“If I know anything about you Cutlers, it’s that you won’t ever do anything unless you want to, so if you don’t want breakfast, I’m not gonna try to talk you into it,” he said, heading toward the door. He paused on the threshold. “Let me know if you need any help with anything.”
In the silent, empty clinic, I shut the notebook with a loud thud and leaned my elbows on the counter, digging my fingers into my hair.
What the fuck was wrong with me? All I wanted was to be normal.
I felt like that feral kitten from the barn, biting every hand regardless of whether they were trying to help or hurt.
Would I have still been like this if Dune hadn’t died?
If I hadn’t been exiled? If I had never met Juck?
I hissed a frustrated breath through my teeth. The door abruptly opened, and I turned, expecting to see Tuck or maybe my brother, but instead, Mist stepped through the door. I froze, but she quickly crossed the clinic and approached me, catching my hands and squeezing.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her wide eyes worried.
“I’m fine,” I said, startled.
“Bo—Ember, did Hawk really hurt you?” Her distress bled into her voice.
“He just grabbed my arm, Mist, I’m okay.”
She studied my face, and the silence stretched.
“I’m sorry,” the whispered words slipped out of my mouth, and her eyes widened. “I’m so sorry, Mist. I should’ve… I should’ve—” A sob choked me, and she released my hands to hug me as the tears I’d held back all morning escaped.
“It’s not your fault, Ember,” her voice was tearful but firm.
“I can’t… I hate myself for… for hurting you?—"
“You didn’t hurt me,” she corrected me. “You never hurt me, Ember. You kept me from breaking completely.”
“I never… never stood up to her,” I sobbed.
“If she knew what your healing power did for me… and all the others… I think she would have stopped summoning you,” Mist said, her voice gentle. “Every time you healed us and gave us a moment to breathe, you stood up to her.”
“I didn’t?—"
“If you need to hear it, I forgive you. I don’t blame you, but you have my forgiveness.”
I didn’t feel I deserved that, but I didn’t say anything. After a moment, I pulled away, and she let me go. I dug one of Sam’s handkerchiefs out of my pocket and swiped at my face.
“Can you tell me everything that happened with you and Hawk?” Mist asked.
I took a deep breath, and then I did. I didn’t leave anything out, and the furrow between her brow deepened as she listened. When I finished, she stared thoughtfully at the exam table for a few seconds.
“I could see him grabbing your arm, but the other stuff? That seems so out of character for him. Even if he was real mad.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I shrugged.
“I checked the bottles,” she added. “There’s a good dozen of Madame’s scent missing.”
I sucked in a breath, trying to soothe the nausea.
“They won’t get any more, though. I poured the rest down the outhouse hole.” She grimaced. “Smells like someone made shit cookies.”
A wild, potentially manic giggle escaped my lips, and she looked at me in surprise. I tried to stop, pressing both hands over my mouth, but the hysterical laughter kept coming.
“You okay there?” she asked, but a wide grin spread across her face.
“Shit. Cookies,” I got out.
Mist started laughing, too, and soon, we were both clutching our stomachs, tears of laughter streaming down our faces. The door opened, and we both looked over to see Tuck standing there, his eyebrows nearly touching his hairline.
“What the hell?” he asked.
Neither of us could answer him, and he glanced between us, his lips twitching even as his brow furrowed.
“Should I be worried?”
“Shit cookies!” Mist wheezed through giggles.
The baffled look on his face set us both off again.