25 - Dog
The view from the top floor of the Berkshire Private Surgical Wing was worth millions, a panoramic sweep of the Charles River glittering under a crisp Boston sun.
The wing had been established a quarter-century earlier, funded by his grandfather’s generosity, creating an enduring legacy designed to provide the family with exclusive, state-of-the-art medical care.
To anyone else, it would have been a sanctuary of healing.
To Barkley “Dog” Berkshire, it was a high-end cage.
He lay staring at the ceiling, his jaw tight enough to crack bone. The room smelled of expensive lilies along with the sharp, underlying tang of surgical-grade antiseptic. It was a sterile, controlled environment, exactly the opposite of the chaos he had lived in for the better part of a decade.
He shifted, trying to find a position that didn’t set off the rhythmic throb in his lower leg, and his brain, in a cruel betrayal, sent a signal to flex a foot that no longer existed.
The phantom sensation was maddening, a ghost of his former self mocking him from the biohazard bin where his career had been tossed two weeks ago.
Operator. Medic. Failure. The words marched in time with his heartbeat.
A soft, measured rhythm came from the corner of the room, a quiet, almost imperceptible cadence that Dog recognized without needing to look up.
Jake’s steps were smooth, controlled, almost natural, so quiet most people would not even guess he was not walking on two flesh-and-bone legs.
Dog’s chest tightened at the sound. That quiet confidence, that ease of movement, was a reminder of what he had lost and the bitterness that tangled with it.
“You’re doing it again, Doc,” Jake said, his voice flat. “Staring at the drywall like you’re trying to bore a hole through it with your mind. It’s not working. The wall is winning.”
Dog didn’t turn his head. “I’m assessing the perimeter, Jake. Leave it alone.”
“You’re not assessing anything. You’re holding a one-man wake for your ego.
” Jake stood up from the designer armchair, the carbon fiber of his own prosthetic clicking with intentional volume.
He walked to the edge of the bed, looming over Dog with the kind of unimpressed stare only a fellow SEAL could manage.
“The doctors say you’re stable. The physical therapist has been here three times today, and you’ve sent her out every time with that ‘aristocratic prick’ voice you use when you’re hiding. Enough.”
“I’ll start PT when I’m ready,” Dog snapped, finally meeting Jake’s eyes.
“You’ll start when I drag you there,” Jake countered raising an eyebrow.
“I’ve been down this road, Barkley. I spent six months trying to convince myself I was half a man because I left a foot in the dirt.
You know what I realized? I was still the same man; I just had to learn to walk different.
You’re a healer. You’re a scientist. Start healing yourself before I have to do it for you. ”
The door opened with a soft, pneumatic hiss. Will Berkshire stepped in, looking every bit the billionaire financier in a tailored charcoal suit. He carried a leather briefcase and a look of cautious optimism that Dog found physically exhausting.
Will shifted uncomfortably in the doorway, his hands briefly tightening into fists before he relaxed them.
He cast a quick, uncertain glance at Jake, then down at the bandaged stump at the end of the bed.
His eyes flickered with unspoken pain as he searched for the right words.
Finally, he cleared his throat and said with measured caution, “Barkley. You look alert. That’s an improvement. ”
“I’m a Berkshire, Will. We’re always alert for the next market crash,” Dog said, the sarcasm sharp and defensive.
Will ignored the bite and pulled up a chair. “I’ve spent the morning on the phone with the insurance adjusters for the Monterey site. Between your personal trust and the arson payout, the funding for the rebuild is fully secured. We don’t need a dime of outside capital.”
Dog let out a huff of air. “The clinic is a pile of ash, Will. It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to the town,” Will reminded him firmly.
“I remember what you told me before the accident. After the clinic was firebombed, you realized Monterey needed the ER more than just a separate consultation office. You said they needed a real 24/7 urgent care facility because the nearest hospital is nearly an hour away. I’ve already authorized the architects to move forward with those expanded plans.
The blueprints now include two trauma bays and a full diagnostic suite. It’s exactly what you wanted.”
Dog looked out the window, his expression cold. “What I wanted was to be the one on the front lines in those trauma bays. A one-legged medic is a liability, Will. I can’t stabilize a patient if I can’t even stabilize myself.”
“Money isn’t the obstacle, Barkley,” Will said softly. “You have the resources to build the finest facility in Virginia. You have the staff ready to go. The only thing missing is the man who had the vision to start it.”
Dog didn’t respond. The fire that had driven him to build the Blue Ridge Center had been snuffed out in that meadow.
All he could see now was the failure, the moment he’d let himself be distracted by the sound of Margaret’s voice, by the way she looked in the autumn light, instead of watching his own feet.
“How is she?” Dog asked, the question slipping out before he could stop it.
Will didn’t bother hiding his irritation as he chose his words, his voice edged with steel.
“Margaret is at the Farm. I’ve been managing the federal freeze on the Winslow estate.
It’s a total disaster. Charles’s assets are tangled up in a dozen investigations.
She has nothing: no access, no resources, nothing but the goodwill of Bear and the Blue Ridge Protectors keeping her afloat.
If you think she doesn’t need you, then you’re either blind or dead to what’s happening.
It’s time to pull yourself together and fight, or you’re going to lose everything before you even had a chance. ”
Dog felt a flicker of the old protectiveness, but he shoved it down. “She’s safe there. Bear won’t let anyone through the gates.”
“She’s more than safe, Doc,” Jake interjected, leaning against the wall.
“Link says she’s back in ‘Queen’ mode. She’s got the kids in a routine, and she’s spending most of her time in town.
Apparently, she’s been seen at the Highland Diner.
Meeting with Sheriff Brody and some local contractors.
She isn’t sitting around waiting for you to call. ”
Dog felt a sharp, unexpected pang of jealousy mixed with guilt. He had told her to go away. He had told her he was done. He had expected her to retreat into her grief, not to go back into the world he had failed to protect her from.
“Besides,” Jake continued, his voice dropping into a more serious, tactical tone. “Swede called this morning. The bounty on both of you is effectively dead.”
Dog’s head snapped toward him. “Dead? Charles’s network doesn’t just give up.”
“They didn’t have a choice,” Jake said with a grim smirk.
“Swede put the word out through his channels on the dark web. He made it very clear that the funding for those contracts is now at the center of a federal treason and RICO investigation. He let the right people know that anyone even looking at those hits would have Homeland Security and the FBI tracing the crypto back to their front doors before they could chamber a round. No one’s interested in a payday that comes with a life sentence in Gitmo. ”
Jake let that sink in for a moment before pushing off the wall and walking to the foot of the bed.
“She knows it’s over, Barkley. She knows Charles is gone, the threat is gone, and for the first time in fifteen years, no one is holding a leash.
She’s taking full advantage of that freedom.
She isn’t the victim you pulled out of that car anymore.
She’s a woman with a mission, and she’s doing it all without you. ”
“Good,” Dog said, his voice sounding like a lie. “She took me at my word. That’s what’s supposed to happen.”
“Is it?” Jake turned his hard gaze on him. “Because you look like a man who just realized he won the battle but lost the point of the war. You drove her off because you couldn’t stand her seeing you broken. Now she’s out there being whole without you. How’s that ego holding up now?”
“That’s enough, Jake,” Will said, sensing the escalating tension. He stood and patted Dog’s shoulder. “I have to get back to the office. I’ll leave the new blueprints on the tablet for you. Look at them, Barkley. Remind yourself that you still have work to do.”