Page 55 of Skin Deep

“Come on. I’ll take you over to Grant Medical. It’s better than the university hospital.” I started walking Xander toward the parking lot.

“Wait,” Beau called, and I stopped, turning back to face him impatiently. He plucked the cigarette from between his lips. “What did you want to know about Bowen Ivanski?”

“Does he come around on Saturdays?” I asked.

Beau glanced at Xander and back at me with a shrug. “Sure. Comes in around four and usually ducks out with one of the dancers after midnight. You gonna fuck him up?” Beau asked.

I frowned. “What’s it to you if I am?”

Beau sucked on his cigarette for a long moment. “Fucker treats the girls like shit. He likes to hit them. I’ve had to help do so much fucking makeup to cover his bruises the next day… Let’s just say none of us here would miss him if he didn’t show up on Monday.”

“Give me your phone.” I held out my hand.

He hesitated a moment before handing it over.

I programmed my number into it before giving it back. “Saturday night, I want you to text me when he’s about to leave.”

Beau considered his phone, sucking on his cigarette for a moment in thought. “He always orders vodka straight right before he goes out. Would it help if I gave him a special cocktail instead?”

“Nothing too heavy,” I said with a nod. “I want him to feel everything I do to him after.”

He gave me a quick look up and down before taking the phone. “Honey, please. I wouldn’t dream of robbing you of your vengeance. Now go on. Take care of your family, and I’ll look after mine.”

Threehourslater,sittingat Xander’s bedside in the emergency room, I stared down at the unanswered messages on my phone. Pax had tried to call once and texted me three times. I was supposed to call him when I got home and never did. I couldn’t.

After what’d happened to Xander, I shouldn’t be anywhere near him or his girls. They were in danger because of me, and no matter how many people I killed, that would always be true. If it wasn’t the vory after him, it’d be the police, other killers, people who wanted vengeance. Anyone and everyone could use Pax, Scarlett, or Charlie to get to me.

I wanted to believe that I could protect them, but the truth was right in front of me. I couldn’t protect anyone.

The nurse practitioner came in with Xander’s x-rays from radiology and showed us the fracture in his radius and the hairline fracture in his fourth rib on the right side. He also had a mild concussion.

He could’ve died, and it was all my fault. All he did was show up somewhere with me, and this was the result.

Shepherd showed up at five in the morning, just as we were waiting for the discharge paperwork. I looked up and he was there, lurking by the curtain. It was so unexpected, I jumped. “Shepherd!”

Dark eyes slid from Xander’s prone body and the cast on his wrist to me. The weight of my brother’s judgment settled on me and I looked away.

“I didn’t expect you to come,” I muttered.

“Your text said Xander was in the hospital. Of course I came.” He shifted the light jacket over his arm and stepped into the dim room. “How is he?”

“Out.” I shook my head. “The pain medicine knocked him out. Concussion probably helped.”

“Sleep is the best thing for him. His wounds will heal with time. How are you holding up?”

“Me?” I frowned and looked up at him. “Why does it matter how I am? I’m not the one who got beat up.”

“You’re beating yourself up,” Shepherd said, crossing his arms.

I snorted. “If you’re here to tell me it wasn’t my fault, save your breath. It was. Sergei made sure I knew it was.”

Shepherd was silent. He gripped the side of the bed tightly as he considered Xander while he slept. “Without pain and sacrifice, we have nothing.”

I frowned. “Nietzsche?”

Shepherd smirked. “Close. It’s a quote fromFight Club, though no less impactful, even if overlooked. Xander’s pain has a purpose. It’s a reminder that he is alive, that he has survived, also thanks to you.”

“I’m not sure he’ll see it that way.”

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