I turn my head toward him. "What? Three shots to the chest, and he lives?"
Bashir snorts grimly.
"He did take the bullets, but as a purple alpha, he has those bony plates along his ribs. Only one round went deeper into his guts."
With some difficulty I stop myself from a loud curse.
"Unreal! The freak slipped through," I growl. "What did they do with him?"
"They stabilized him here, then transferred him to a city hospital on the mainland under police escort," Bashir adds bitterly. "With purple alpha regeneration, he’ll be fine in two days."
"Bastard," I snap. "He tried to kill four people!"
I lift my free hand to rub my face and feel a sharp pull in my shoulder. Salt is right. The wound is barely closed, and the muscles around it still ache like hell.
Fred speaks up, his voice heavy. "He’s under arrest for attempted murder, so he won’t be walking free anytime soon. Still, Bashir and I are done with this damn island. It’s too much." His lips press into a thin line, and I can’t blame him.
"But how did he even get here?"
"He must have snuck onto the island somehow. Their security really is garbage," Bashir mutters.
Salt snorts and looks up at the ceiling. "If you can escape the island on a ferry, you can get back onto it too."
Bashir crosses his arms. "And Drax made no secret of wanting revenge on everyone during questioning by the BA oversight board. He was furious. He lost a comfortable position here, and he made sure people knew it."
"Comfortable position?" Fred snaps suddenly, his face pale. "Occupation: medical rapist."
He drops his gaze quickly, but it’s obvious how much rage is boiling inside him.
A heavy silence falls.
"So, yeah. I don’t feel sorry for him," Fred adds darkly, staring out the window.
"Neither do I," Salt adds. "He literally went on a killing spree."
I decide to shift the tone. "So where are you both heading?"
"That’s still up in the air," Bashir replies. "Either another center, or back to my house, which is currently rented out. Once the tenants are gone, we can return. We’ll decide within the next two weeks."
Fred opens his mouth to add something, but Doctor Cooper walks into the room.
"All right, time for us to go. Glad to see you’re holding up," Bashir says, stepping aside.
"Thanks for coming by," I add awkwardly. "And… I’m glad you went for thatwalk."
"You took those bullets for us," Fred murmurs. "I hope you recover quickly, and that the bastard stays in prison for a long time."
When Bashir and Fred leave, Salt sighs and speaks in a dark tone. "I didn’t want to bring that up in front of them, but the nurse told me that Drax insisted he’d been treated horribly and maintained his innocence. He blamed Sidorov the most and stated he would never force himself on betas without their green light and consent forms with signatures. He had lost his only job, which, with his monstrous looks, was precious to him."
Doctor Cooper checks something on the machine behind Salt, and I add in a low voice.
"I wouldn’t be surprised if Sidorov was the main person behind it all. You know purple alphas aren’t exactly geniuses. There had to be a mastermind pulling the strings."
For a moment I stare at the IV line in my arm.
Unexpectedly, the doctor, who keeps checking some readings, mutters.
"I also heard about Drax’s case. He can’t live among normal people because of his pheromones. They trigger extreme reactions. He can’t take suppressants because he goes into anaphylactic shock, and he’s allergic to deodorants."
