Page 137 of Bloom: Part 2

“He’s…gone.”

“Gone where?”

His chest rose and fell, but he didn’t respond. “Bloom!” I called. What did he mean Bloom was gone?

Panic coiled tighter in my chest. Dr. Simms was no help. I turned back to the stairs. “Check every office until we find him.”

The bikers rushed to spread out, their boots thundering. I ran for the office number that had been on the second utility bill. Dr. Simms must have been in a hurry to leave because the door was unlocked.

My heart sank. If Bloom was still inside, Dr. Simms wouldn’t have been so careless. I stepped into the office and barely concealed a frustrated cry. Bloom wasn’t there. My mind raced, piecing together what little was information. Bloom had been here. The signs were everywhere—the scuff marks on the floor, the chair with the ropes on the floor by its legs, the boots Bloom had been wearing, and a familiar knife on the desk. Bloom’s knife. He would never willingly leave it behind.

My hands trembled as I picked it up, the cold steel sending a chill down my spine. A vision of Bloom, hurt and defenseless, flashed before me, making my knees buckle.

I forced myself to move, descending the stairs on shaking legs.

“Bloom.” I crouched beside him. “Where is he?”

Dr. Simms’s eyes fluttered open again, and he tried to speak, his lips barely moving. “I… I don’t know.”

“Don’t lie to me!” The words erupted from me, venomous and sharp. I gripped his shirt and pulled him up slightly. He cried out, his head lolling to the side.

“I swear,” he gasped. “He… he pushed me down the stairs and ran.”

“Ran where?” I tightened my grip. “Where did he go?Tell me!”

“I don’t… know…” he whimpered, his breath hitching with every word.

A wave of heat consumed me. I reached down and pressed against his leg where the bone was protruding. His body twitched, and a scream ripped from his throat. The sound reverberated off the wall, but it did nothing to quell the storm inside me.

“Where the fuck is he?” I shouted. “I can make it hurt a lot more if you don’t talk.”

He sobbed, tears running down his face. “I…don’t…know. I swear to you that he ran.”

“He escaped?”

“Ye-es. Please, please.”

If he had no idea where Bloom was, he was of no use to me.

I raised the knife, feeling no remorse for breaking my Hippocratic oath, which I’d always taken so seriously. A strong hand gripped my shoulder, yanking me back.

“Doc, stop!” Bay’s voice was urgent, his eyes wide as he held me away from the injured man.

“Don’t! If I don’t kill him, how will I be able to face Bloom again?”

“I know. I understand how you feel but killing him should be Crowe’s privilege. Don’t you think?”

I trembled with rage, clenching my fists at my sides. He had a point, but I still longed to drive Bloom’s knife into Dr. Simms’s neck. Bloom would have approved.

The room spun around me, the weight of helplessness crashing down like a tidal wave. I wanted to argue, but the logic in Bay’s words rooted me in place. I couldn’t take this away from Crowe. He already hated me for wanting to take Bloom away from him.

I took a shaky step back, my breath coming hard and fast. One by one, the bikers joined us, giving me sympathetic looks. They hadn’t found Bloom.

“Looks like he escaped,” Grimm said. “That’s a good thing. Means he’s probably trying to get home.”

“We should spread out and do another search for him in this area,” Uncle Mickey said. “He can’t have gotten far. Why don’t we team up? I’ll take Logan in the car. We need a few people on foot.”

Noose and Whip exchanged glances. “We’ll stay here with this piece of shit and get him moved to the clubhouse.” Noose nodded toward Simms. “Any advice on how to handle his broken body, Doc?”

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