3. I knew things weren’t perfect…
I KNEW THINGS WEREN’T PERFECT…
Iknew things weren’t rainbows and butterflies. They were blood smears and slaughter. Always. What I didn’t know was how strong I would have to be to survive.
He stood over me. One of my long-forgotten tormentors. Doctor. Lucas. Avery.
He didn’t comment, just finished bandaging my ribcage and checking the other bullet wounds.
The man who had been a constant source of agony since I was fourteen. The doctor, I thought, was dead. Burned in a fire along with all the other evil bastards.
“Why are you here?” I asked as he retreated to the chair by the bedside.
“Karter called me.” His voice was calm. Always with that devoid of emotion, steady tone.
“How do you know him?”
“I’m curious. Of all the scars you had on your body when they sent you to us.
The ‘whore’ one is new. I’d love to know the story behind that.
” He mused as he checked his phone. I stared at him for a long time.
Wishing I could move enough to stab that stupid smirk off his face.
But I was weak. There was no way in hell I was moving with the blood loss.
Dr. Avery knew that. He preyed on it. He waited for me to come to a conclusion.
“A fair trade then?” I offered. I hated the man, but he collected information like candy. He always knew someone who’d be of interest, and I hated that I had to trade my trauma for it. Sick bastard.
“Acceptable.” He nodded. Waited. I sat up fully.
“I saved someone. That was the price.”
“Young Love. Sloppy handy work. The brutes?” He inclined his head to Cole, who was sleeping in the chair across from me.
“No. Obsidian’s work.” I spit.
“Ah, poor things going bankrupt and all. Would hate to see the DiSantos swallow them up.” He set his phone down and leaned over to check my pulse.
I kept my breathing even, not wanting to give him more reason to touch me.
Every touch from him sent my nervous system on high alert.
He hummed a tune of something like Ring Around the Roses.
“You and Karter?” I asked after he’d withdrawn his hand.
“Karter and I are good colleagues. I owed him a favor. One I am sure he’d have never asked if he knew our shared history. This certainly was a gift I never expected.” He laughed softly and leaned back. Visibly relaxed, as if he couldn’t care to be here.
“You talk fondly of him.” I bit out.
“I tolerate him.”
“Where is he?”
“New York.”
“Why are you giving me this information so easily?”
“I am intrigued.”
“Doctors like you are never just intrigued. There’s something you are withholding from me.”
“Ah, you caught me. Yes I have useful information. It comes at a price.”
“I don’t want it.”
“Well then my work here is done.” He moved to take his bag, and I reached out, gripping his arm.
“What price?”
“Now you ask the right question. I’ll collect my favor at a later date. You’ll come to me when the child matters more than your pride.”
“How do I know you’ll tell me the truth.”
“Have I ever lied to you?” I stared at him for a long time. I hated to admit that he was right. He had never sugarcoated anything. That scared me.