Page 7 of Worth the Ruin
“You’re really bringing her back with us?” Jett asks, sounding like a petulant child. I know damn well why he doesn’t want Melody at FOS. My second in command has been hiding things, but it’s all coming to light now. He doesn’t know the extent of my knowledge, but I’m sure he knows there are rumors going around about him. Whether he thinks I’ll think of them as just that—rumors—or if I’ll ignore them since I trusted him enough to put him in a position of power, I’m honestly not sure, but I can tell he’s trying to be on his best behavior around me lately. Overcompensating and all that.
I give him a look now that tells him that I’m watching him closely and he clears his throat.
“Do you have a problem with that?” I ask, putting that calm, unwavering authority in my voice that serves me so fucking well when I need it to.
“No, no, of course not, sir, I just…I was worried about her making trouble, that’s all.”
Fucking liar.
“I think she’ll behave herself when the safety of the people she cares about is on the line.”
Jett looks like he wants to argue, but holds his tongue.
“You’re the boss,” he says nodding.
“You’re god damn right I am.”
He chuckles a bit and I grin at him, playing my part.
“What’s the verdict, Doc. Am I going to live?”
Doc concentrates on his work as he finishes sewing up my arm, but glances up at me from under the rim of his thick glasses.
“For now.” His lips curl at the corners and I smirk at him. Doc Hastings and I have…history. He knows my secrets and I know his, and he’s one of the few people in the world that I count as a true friend. No one would ever know it, of course, but that’s how it has to be. Everything is calculated. Everything is planned. Everything happens the way that it happens for a reason. I’ve worked hard to build this house of cards and it’s finally mostly solid, the cards becoming real walls that don’t threaten to topple at the slightest breeze. It’s been hard and exhausting, but worth it.
“Glad to hear it.” I turn to Jett. “Go help Johnson get everything ready. We’ll be heading out soon.”
Jett nods and heads out. Once the door closes, Doc sighs and punches me hard in my uninjured arm.
“Austin, what the fuck?”
“Hey, I didn’t ask to get shot,” I say defensively. He runs a hand through his hair, the dark brown streaked liberally with gray. “But I’m fine, so it’s no big deal.”
Doc looks at me like I have a dick growing out of my forehead. It’s still hilarious to me that he’s always gone by Doc—short for Murdock—but then ended up being an actual doctor. One of those happy little twists of fate that make me smile for some stupid reason.
“No big deal? If Kevin wasn’t such a horrific shot, you could bedeadright now.”
“Some people might see that as a blessing,” I point out and he gives me a dry look. “Can’t really blame them.” I try to shrug but it sends a searing pain radiating through my arm. I hiss in a breath through clenched teeth, and Doc lets out a long, measured exhale, looking so very tired and far older than his forty-five years. He wraps a bandage around my arm and shakes his head.
“One day,” he mutters quietly, “one fucking day, it’ll be enough.” He gets up and washes his hands before rummaging through one of the cabinets. He hands me some pain pills and a cup of water, giving me a stern look until I down them. “Until then, be more careful for fuck’s sake.”
“Again, I didn’taskto get shot.”
My arm is throbbing like a son of a bitch, but I try to ignore it. Hopefully whatever he’s given me still packs enough of a punch to dull the pain a bit. We’ve got a long drive ahead and I don’t need one more thing to worry about during it. Doc leans back against the counter and crosses his arms, studying me. It’s a look I’ve seen a thousand times and as much as it drives me crazy, I also kind of love it. When he looks at me that way, it’s like I’m the old me again, therealme. He’s the only person on this planet who knows that guy anymore.
“So, you’re really taking Mel?” There’s a hint of disapproval in his voice.
“It was her idea and I gave her ample opportunity to change her mind.” Both of these things are technically true, but at the end of the day, it’s still my choice, my decision, and my fault. I know she won’t soon forget that, but maybe one day, she’ll understand.
“Uh huh…”
I sigh and heave myself up from the chair. He hands me small plastic bag with a handful more pills in it.
“Two pills, twice a day for the next week. I’m not too worried about infection on this one, but just to be safe. And these,” he holds up a second baggy, “should help with the worst of the pain.”
I tuck the bags in my back pocket and wrap him in a one-armed hug.
“Please try not to get yourself killed,” Doc says, slapping me on the back but being careful of my arm.
