Page 82 of Vegas Daddies

“I know.” The flat tone suggests that he’s done talking.

Silence stretches between us. Is he gonna hang up and get himself to sleep, or what?

I could hang up onhim,but that feels rude.

“What time do you get off work?” he asks me.

“Not until midnight, man.”

“Stop by mine on your way home.”

Summerlin isn’t on my way home.

“Sure, man. But at midnight? Won’t you be asleep?”

“Sleep is a concept I’m no longer familiar with.”

Fair enough.

I say goodbye, drop the call, and get back to work. Acute patients wait to see me and the other doctor on call. Either I refer them to another hospital department, prescribe medicine, or tell them to go home and rest. The latter is something I’m starting to crave more of myself.

The thrill of the Venom Vultures is only fun when the stakes are low, and they have been until now. Meeting Alice has introduced real stakes into our lives. It’s not so simple anymore. Days of cruising down desert roads with loaded guns have long passed. It’s not thrill seeking anymore, and it’s not adrenaline that increases my pulse now. It’s fear. Alice could seriously get hurt.

For the remaining three hours of my shift, I see patient after patient. Nothing is life-threatening, but each time my eyes meet theirs, I feel guilt rope around my intestines, squeezing hard. Killing people who deserve it is fun, but god, does it stay with you. The pain in my patients’ eyes. The worry. They come in with abdominal pain or a shortness of breath, and they look at me like I’m their cure.

“What should I do, doctor?”

“Take the pain away, doctor.”

I’ve been causing pain for years.

They see the scrubs, the ID badge clipped to my pocket, and trust me with, quite literally, their life. God, if only they saw the flip side of the coin. Me greased up in leather, stinking of gasoline and rotting human flesh, on my way back from an assassination.

People only see what’s right in front of them.

I finish my shift, hop on my bike, and drive to Summerlin. The moon shines brightly, emitting a weak glow over the distant mountains that appear to stretch to infinity and beyond. What would my parents say if they saw me now? To them, I’m just a doctor. Someone who can do no wrong.

The door opens before I even finish knocking.

“Come in.”

Peter shuts the door behind me as soon as I step in. Wandering into the living room, I notice a half-gone bottle of brandy, and a rom-com starring Julia Roberts playing on the TV.

“Do you want a drink?”

“No. I should get back soon. It was a tiring night.”

“Understood.” He collapses onto the couch that still holds the outline of his body, and looks up at me with bloodshot eyes. Sleep deprivation is no stranger to the guy. I visited him once or twice after Marybeth’s death to drag him out of the house, and he looked like a sewage rat. Tail between his legs.

He looks the same now.

“It’s funny,” he says.

Is it? His face says otherwise.

“I never wanted Alice to meet you.” He turns the TV volume down a peg. “I was ashamed to have a friend like you, because you were a living representation of everything I hated.”

Charming.

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