Page 21 of Savior

I slowly sank down onto the chair, watching the couch for any signs of life. “Mike? It’s Kate. I was just—”

“Come to shrink my head, Doc?” he muttered, still completely hidden from view.

I picked at a stray thread on my dress pants. “Oh, um, I’m not a doctor… just a licensed counselor.”

“Oh, that’s right. That’d be your husband. Did he send you to check on me? Is that his good deed for the day?” His hand shot out, and he tugged the quilts down toward his waist. I straightened in the chair at the sight of him, fighting to remain seated, instead of running screaming for the door.

This was worse than a chainsaw-wielding maniac.

Nate had told me he was bad, but nothing prepared me for seeing it in person. Mike looked nothing like the man who’d rallied everyone together in the middle of a cemetery just last month. His wavy hair hung down past his chin, the matted areas looking more brown than dark blond, and the blue eyes that had always reminded me of my father and sister were no longer clear and bright but bloodshot and rimmed in dark circles.

I cleared my throat and placed my palms on the armrests, just as I’d done for countless other patients. “Nate doesn’t know I’m here. I’d prefer to keep it that way if you catch my meaning.”

He smirked before shuddering violently, causing him to reach for the quilts again. “Keeping secrets from old Nathaniel already? Can’t see how that could backfire.”

Emotion flooded my veins, and my fingers tightened against the fabric, and it took everything in me to keep my voice calm and my words professional. “What about your secrets, Mike? What would you say that’s cost you?”

His eyes sharpened, and the grin faded from his lips just as Gloria entered the room. The plate she carried in her hands was overflowing with food, her mouth stretched wide in a grin.

“I fix you a little something to get some meat on your bones. You do not want to losetus montañas.”

I frowned, and she held out a bony index finger, circling it in the vicinity of my breasts. My cheeks heated and I nodded, indicating that I understood, hoping she didn’t elaborate further. He might’ve been my brother, but it wasn’t so long ago that I’d entertained the idea of ending up with someone just like him.

She pinched my cheek. “Enjoy it. Mike, do you want for me to make you something?”

His jaw tightened as he shook his head, and she disappeared back into the kitchen, happily humming to herself.

I stared down in wonder at the breaded steak topped with a fried egg resting on a bed of white rice. “Is this a typical brunch around here?”

“For Gloria it is.” He lowered his voice. “What do you want, Kate? Why’d you come here?”

I speared the hunk of meat with my fork and cut off a tiny sliver. In my effort to avoid looking at the monstrosity that was now Mike, my eyes landed on a row of bullet holes in the wall behind the couch. “What happened to your house?”

He looked to where I was pointing and rolled his eyes. “The Sons of Death happened, Kate. Did you forget?”

The Sons.

A name that had meant nothing until the night my father was shot. Even months later, no one seemed to know anything about the elusive club. They’d disappeared just as quickly as they’d arrived.

“Well, I just thought…” I shoved a forkful of egg and meat into my mouth and deliberately chewed slowly to avoid finishing the sentence. The meat was so tender it felt as if it would dissolve on my tongue, and it took everything in me to stifle the moan on my lips.

I’d had chicken fried steak before, but this was on an entirely separate plane of existence.

“You just thought, what?” Mike pushed, before snagging the fork from my fingers and cutting a piece for himself. Bits of egg yolk clung to his scraggly beard as the steak disappeared into his mouth, taking with it any desire I had for another bite.

I swallowed. “I mean, that happened a couple of months ago, right? I sort of thought that you would’ve repaired it by now.”

His eyes narrowed. “Been a little busy, pumpkin. So, why the fuck did you come here? The real reason this time.”

“I came because I have some questions… about our father.”

He let out a rough bark of laughter, and I looked up just in time to see him wince.

“Body aches?” I asked, and he nodded. “That’s pretty common during withdrawals. What about tremors? Headaches?”

He closed his eyes briefly before nodding again, his throat bobbing up and down in a swallow. “Yeah… all of that.”

“What about the cravings? Are they?” I paused, trying to choose my words carefully. “Do you want to use again?”

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