Page 95 of Warlord’s Empire

She pulled away from him, sniffling. “I’m right though, you do need to stay here. Hang out with me and get better. Then we’ll go back to Prague and get the girl. Okay?”

“It might not be that easy,” he said, returning to his desk. “While I understand what this therapy is supposed to accomplish, I can’t feel it doing much of anything.” He hesitated to continue, but the earnest expression on his sister’s face convinced him he could talk to her. “My therapist has suggested I take medication to help with the PTSD episodes.” His lip curled in disgust at the idea.

“Let me guess,” Ayyan said with a smile. “You refused.”

“Of course.” In his line of work, he had to have a clear mind, one that wasn’t under the influence of drugs.

She could see his thoughts though and countered them. “You’re already under the influence of these PTSD episodes. If one might help the other, then perhaps you should try it. I doubt you would be on the medication forever.” She was making sense, but he was still leery. “Have you tried speaking to your doctor friend, Zander Smith?”

“No,” Radik said shortly. “He’s a physician, not a psychologist. This is none of his business.”

She rolled her eyes. “You do know your body and your mind are attached, right? You should trust him, he’s always been a good friend to us. I’m sure he’ll be able to suggest a drug that you can live with. One without side effects, perhaps. You won’t know unless you talk to him.”

Why hadn’t he thought of that? “I’ll call him.”

Zander did more than just recommend a medication. With Radik’s permission, he contacted Radik’s therapist to discuss medications, then he flew to the compound to oversee Radik’s recovery himself.

“My old friend,” Radik said as they met on the airstrip outside the compound. “You do me a great honour by coming so quickly, but am I not taking you away from your practice?”

Zander chuckled, heaving a suitcase into the back of Radik’s truck. “You didn’t seem all that concerned about infringing on my time when Saskia was in trouble.”

“This is different.”

Zander’s lips curved in a smile. “Of course you would say that. You’ve always downplayed injury and illness. Well, from my perspective, you have finally asked for the one thing I’ve wanted to give you for many years. A sense of peace.”

“Perhaps I don’t deserve peace,” Radik said, in an echo of a previous conversation with Saskia. Remembering that conversation, he added, “But I will attempt to achieve it, for Saskia.”

Radik started the truck and pulled it off the runway, bouncing them as he took the dirt road back to the compound.

“I’m no therapist, but even I know you must get better for yourself before you can think of others.” Zander looked at him seriously. “If Saskia loves you, it’s what she would want too.”

“She loves me,” Radik said automatically. He was extremely defensive when it came to Saskia. “But I will try it your way. I will do this for myself. Make peace, or whatever I must do.”

“Good, I’m glad we’re on the same page. I’m going to start you off with Prazosin, a common drug that is often used to treat high blood pressure. It can also be used to treat PTSD episodes. In your case, we’re going to use it to lessen the frequency and severity of your nightmares. It acts by reducing sympathetic nervous system activity during sleep.”

“You’ve brought this drug with you?”

Zander nodded, tapping the leather bag on his lap. “I brought a three month’s supply.” He looked at Radik, his eyes holding compassion. “You should be able to sleep undisturbed.”

The emotion building inside him felt like a fist to the chest, but not a bad one. Sleep. He would finally sleep.

He hadn’t realized how much he longed for a good night’s sleep until Zander put it within his reach. Maybe he could do this for himself. Maybe he could get better. He was starting to believe it. “Thank you for coming.”

“Always,” Zander said.

Chapter Forty-Two

One Month Later

“Good morning,” Saskia said brightly to Shola, opening the door wider so she could come inside. It had become Saskia and Shola’s morning routine to share a coffee together before Shola returned to her work as head of Saskia’s security.

They sat on the couch, each with a cup in their hands.

“How’s your team working out?” Saskia asked, genuinely curious.

She’d never been curious about her security in the past, except to find the best ways to give them the slip. But security under Shola was different. She was a woman and rapidly becoming a good friend.

Shola shrugged, sipping her huge cup of coffee. Saskia was jealous. She was drinking a cup of decaf and pretending it had all the delicious caffeine Shola’s cup held. “They’re not bad,” she said in a tone that suggested they were.