Page 63 of Ashes

“How long?” I asked as we climbed the steps to the hospital.

“Didn’t say, but I’m going to find out.”

When we got inside, Dante moved swiftly to the front desk. The nurse immediately picked her phone up and made a call.

Back up. Reinforcements.

She was scared.

Church surged forward and grabbed the phone from her hand. She cowered beneath his rage.

“Where is Stitches?” he asked with a growl, looming over her.

She shook, her brown eyes wide, her bottom lip wobbling.

He reached out and cradled her face. I watched, mesmerized as he shifted into the monster he was.

“If you don’t tell me, I’m going to strangle you with this phone cord,” he cooed softly, moving his fingers to grip her chin tightly. “Then, I’ll peel the skin from your body and make my Halloween costume with it. I thought I could be a fucking clown this year.”

She let out a choked cry, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks.

When she tried to look away, he jerked her attention back to him. I glanced at Ashes to see him watching intently.

It was clear he was with Church on this.

Good.

It meant we were all on the same page because I wanted Stitches out of this place more than I wanted my next breath. I needed him free. I needed to tell him how sorry I was for all this shit.

When the nurse didn’t answer, Church slowly began wrapping the cord around her neck. She blubbered softly, her small form quaking as she stared up at him.

He tugged the cord suddenly, jerking her toward him. She collided with his chest, gasping, her face tear soaked.

“I’m going to ask you again. Wherethe fuckis Malachi?”

“H-he h-he’s w-with—”

“Dante, what a pleasant surprise!” Sully boomed out as he strode to us, wearing his stupid fucking suit, with his hair slicked back.

Church released the and gave the nurse a shove. She toppled to her ass before she fumbled with getting the cord undone. Then she ran off, practically tripping as she knocked shit off her desk.

“Fuck you. Where’s Stitches?” Church demanded, rounding on Sully, who had the decency to look nervous as he took a step back and adjusted his ugly, purple tie.

Six wards rounded the corner.

Ashes pulled out his lighter and flicked it opened and closed on repeat.

I sighed deeply. This wasn’t going to end well if they decided to attack us. Someone would end up dying, and I could guarantee it wouldn’t be us.

“Dante, please. Let’s discuss this in my office—”

“We’ll discuss it right fucking here,” Church snarled back. “Don’t tempt me, motherfucker. You know what I’m capable of.”

“OK. OK. Here.” Sully offered us a smile, which didn’t reach his beady eyes. “Stitches isn’t well. He’s in one of his manic episodes. It’s unsafe for us to let him go. Your father, Everett, has already agreed this is the best decision. He’s paying for his. . . treatments.”

“Stitches is old enough that nothing my father says should have any impact on what the fuck he does,” Church argued.

Sully inclined his head. “I know you think that, but Malachi isn’t coherent right now and can’t make those decisions on his own. Your father, he cares deeply for your brother. We all do—”

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