Page 44 of Bloom: Part 1

I stopped walking to avoid the pressure on my leg. Logan wasn’t likely to come after me anyway. The more I thought about it, the more depressed I became. I watched the street—for signs of Logan or Saint I wasn’t sure—but I might have felt a twinge of disappointment when Saint rolled up in Dove’s car.

“Thanks, man.” I got in and slammed the door shut, then sank in my seat.

“Which one of these houses belongs to the doctor?” he asked.

“What?”

“Come on. You had to have spent the night with the doctor.”

“Says who?”

“You gonna deny it?”

“Shut up.”

“You’re in a shitty mood for a guy who lost his virginity last night.”

I shot up in my seat and punched him in the shoulder. “I did not!”

“Ah, that explains the shitty mood. No way you could have gotten railed last night and still be so cranky. But if you didn’t get fucked, why are you walking so funny?”

“I hurt my leg, asshole. Why would I be walking funny if I had sex?”

“Jesus, I forget how little you know sometimes. Did we ever have the birds and the bees talk?”

“Didn’t need it. I’ve seen you all fuck way too many times and wasn’t interested in it either.”

“True, but there’s a difference between seeing and taking part. I’ll remind Crowe he needs to give you the talk.”

“Don’t you dare. I don’t want Crowe back on my case about the doctor.”

“You know he’s just worried about you.”

“Yeah, well, there are certain things he can’t help me with, and this is one.”

“But—”

“I don’t want to talk about the fucking doctor anymore, Saint. Let’s go find Winter.”

“Why do you think something’s wrong with him?”

“I called him before you.”

He glanced at me, his eyes wide. “You did?”

“Figured you’d be with Dove, and I didn’t want to disturb you, but from the sounds of the guy who answered the phone, Winter’s out of it right now.”

“Track his phone. We’ll find him.”

Saint’s teasing was gone as his tone shifted, the worry clear in his voice. As much as we bickered and fought, the bond between us brothers was unshakable. Winter might have been a constant source of trouble, but he wasourtrouble. No one else got to give him shit. We were there for that.

I quickly got to work, tracing Winter’s signal. Given how much danger we usually faced, we all had trackers on us. More than once, we had used it to find Winter when he was stoned.

“I got a hit.”

Saint drove with a steady hand, taking one sweeping turn after another through the dimly lit rundown part of town where drugs got passed around like a bowl of sweets on Halloween. He was quiet, a rarity for him because he was always cracking some joke or making light of a situation.

Had Logan realized I was gone yet? Was he disappointed?

---