With a hoarse voice, he responds, “I don’t have one. All I can do is offer myself to the Council, in whatever fashion they feel fit to use me. And maybe I’ll find some level of peace before I die.”
“You need fucking therapy.”
His lips twist into some semblance of a fucked-up smile, and he shrugs with the palm of his hands facing up. “Can’t disagree.”
My hands clench into fists, fury filling my fast. I want to march forward, to shake some sense into him, but I know I can’t. With a huff, I retort, “Fuck this. If you don’t have a plan, we’ll make one together. You may not want to be Il Padrone, but you will always be him—especially to Lio. And fuck if I’m going to let him come back here and find you’re not ready for him. I didn’t understand Marcus or Luca. Hell, I’m still not completely sold. But, as Carter said, everyone deserves a second chance…including you.”
I don’t wait for him to respond. Instead, I whirl around and stride out of the room, needing space to breathe. He may be a villain, but fuck if he isn’tourvillain. And despite the changes in our lives, despite our families changing, evolving, becoming one…he’s still ours. Fuck if I’ll let him give up, not when he never let any of us.
Doc is waiting for Dr. Ranlen and I in the foyer of the O’Connel house. Or is it Council house? Either way, the two of us have a welcoming party.
Doc sweeps his gaze over me, dismissing me when he doesn’t see any visible wounds. I’m sure he’s already aware of the…parting gift Dr. Ranlen left behind when she was checking the wounds Roman left on me the last time we met.
“I see he’s still in one piece,” Doc says cooly.
“I promised he would be. It was hard to hold myself back. I'm not going to lie, I haven’t seen any action in way too long.” She sniffs and Doc chuckles.
“Well, I don’t have anyone for you to torture—at least, not in that way—but Benjamin is taking his sweet time to come around from the sedatives, and I’m tired of babysitting him, so he’s your problem now. Congrats.”
Dr. Ranlen sighs. “Alright, give me his chart and I’ll take over.”
Doc turns to escort his fellow doctor, but stops and sighs. “There’s a room for you. I told Carter I’d be fine escorting you to it.”
“Am I a prisoner?” I ask mildly, irritation bubbling up.
“No, but I’m tired, and I don’t feel like babysitting you.” There’s a bite to Doc’s words, more than his usual caustic tone.
A pang goes through me as I stare at my friend…or is it former friend? Fuck, I don’t know anymore, and I dislike the uncertainty. Since I saved him from being beaten to death simply because of his circumstance of birth, Doc and I have been close. He knows me, and doesn’t judge me for my faults. We trust and understand each other. Or we did…and then I fucked it all up.
Shit.
I’m going to have to fix things with him—with Ten, too. But first…
“Where’s Carter? I’d like to speak with him.”
Doc stiffens, his expression darkening. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea…”
I scowl. Since when does Doc care about Carter? They’re cordial, yes, and I know Doc was happy that I was, but those two never were friends. Mostly, because they had no reason to be in the same space often. Not like when Doc first came to us, and the three of us—Doc, Ten, and I—plotted how to make the Familyours.
So Doc’s sudden protection of Carter is…it worries me. I know I fucked things up with him, but notthatbadly. Not so completely that my closest friend thinks he needs to keep my husband from me…
“Please, Doc. I know he was hurt. I…I need to see my husband.”
Doc’s amber eyes darken and his mouth thins. “If he tries to kill you, I’m not patching you up.”
Dr. Ranlen snorts. “I’d be more worried about my brother killing him.”
Doc laughs. “I’m counting on that.”
“I’m still standing here.”
Doc rolls his eyes and gestures. “Come with me.”
He leads us through the house, to what I’m assuming is the medical area. It’s similar to the Martelli house in that there are several rooms. It's a far cry from the single office he had at the old Amato house. Part of me feels bad for not giving him what he needed sooner, while the other side argues he had his own fucking clinic, so he didn’t need multiple rooms for patients. It’s a weak argument, but it’s all I have.
Doc knocks on a closed door before pushing it open. “There’s someone here to see you, if you feel up for it?”
“It’s fine, Doc.”
