“Yeah. Ten minutes?”
“You’re an asshole.”
Click.
“Calling in the nerd cavalry?”
“You’d prefer a hospital?”
“Fair.”
Chase swallows, his voice hoarse. “You’re... not going to get away with this.”
“We already have. Lucky for you, you’re still alive.”
Ten minutes later, the back door opens upstairs. There’s quick footsteps, then we hear them move down the basement stairs. Nico freezes on the last step.
“Dredyn...” he says.
“Hey, doc,” Talon chirps. “Our guest had a little accident.”
Nico stares at Chase, at the blood. At the finger-shaped hole in the universe.
“I’m going to jail. This is the night I ruin my fucking career,” he mutters.
“You’re pre-med. This is just extra credit.”
“What the fuck.” He breathes.
“Coffee?” Talon offers, deadpan.
Nico drops to his knees beside the chair. “I need better lighting. Back the hell up.”
We do.
Nico mutters the whole time about infection rates and nerve damage and how we’re all going to Hell.
“Will he live?” I ask.
Nico doesn’t look up. “Yeah, he’ll live. He’ll hurt like a motherfucker, but he’ll live.”
“Good.”
When he’s done, there’s fresh gauze, medical tape, and a warning about fluids we both ignore. Nico stands, wiping bloody hands on a towel that will never be white again.
“We’re square—third favor paid. Do not call me again.”
He’s gone before the door finishes closing, and the basement settles back into quiet. There’s just the hum of the bulb and Chase’s shallow breathing. “Look at me,” I say.
It takes him a second, but he drags his eyes up like it physically hurts.
“This isn’t punishment. Punishment ends. This... is a reminder.”
“Of what?” he rasps.
“That you bleed. That you’re not untouchable. That you only keep fucking breathing because we decided your pain is worth more than your corpse.”
His head hangs forward again, and he shakes it.
