Page 187 of White Raven
“I’m so sorry, man.”
“You had the nerve to come at me in that alley outside the club. Throw blows with me overher. Over everything you wished you had that I wanted nothing to fucking do with. You’re thereasonthat she was able to torture us that long!” He tilted his head towards Sarah, who was steadily beginning to place her anger with his. He was right. Everything he said was absolutely right. “You denied her information after she saved this entire coven. After she freed us all, and gave us a reason to truly live. I’m not gonna ask why you killed him, Decclan. I know you fucking loved thatwhore. But don’t sit there and try to use the excuse that you didn’t know how to tell her the truth. You’re a goddamncoward, Decclan Reynolds. You always have been.”
“You’re right,” he choked out, his eyes glassing over as he looked at them both. “I am. I sought him out. I wasn’t trying to bullshit that man, Sarah. I truly wasn’t. I had every intention of helping him end her. The night before it happened, she summoned me to her bed. I was bewitched. I let myself fall for her shit. I got caught up in how she made me feel, and I still don’t know to this day if she had any inclination that I was planning to help kill her. But if she did, it worked to her advantage…because I just couldn’t. She didn’t tell me to kill him. I killed him for the same reason that I begged Athan to save us that night they tried to set fire to that ship. I killed him tosaveher.” A lone tear rolled from his eye, and Sarah watched it until it dripped off his chin. “She was awful…but I loved her. I loved her so much. A part ofme will always pine for her, and I’ve never gotten the image of how broken she was at the end, out of my head. It’s broken me as much as hearing Patrick screaming on the other side of the rooftop door. For what it’s worth, Athan…I’ll never truly be free. I think I’ll always hurt. I think it’s my curse for what I’ve done.”
Sarah stood, and softly released Athan’s hand as she took a few steps towards Decclan’s chair. He tensed, but his body suggested he was accepting of whatever she was about to do to him. He bowed his head to her.
“Decclan…you fucked up. And the only reason I’m not claiming that miraculously beating heart from your stupid chest is because I fucked up too.” He raised his face and knotted his brows in confusion. Athan remained quiet behind her. “Athan’s fucked up. We’ve all fucked up. Every single one of us, all because of incurable love for someone else. Athan killed me. He hid things from me. We fought our way back to each other, and then the night he was taken, I took my turn to fail him too. I acted out, and let him leave while I was angry, all of that shit being misplaced, and misunderstood. It cost us both. He ended up buried alive, and I had to run from the cops to try and find him. And the triangle wasn’t even worth all the shit we went through to get to where we are. You made a grave mistake. We finished it. Edgar Allan Poe is dead. For good this time.”
“You killed him?” he asked, shock etched across his face.
Sarah slowly nodded. “We did. Because he fucked up too. And it had nothing to do with you, or Dahlia, or anybody else in this coven.”
They all stared at one another silently for several tense minutes before Decclan finally spoke again.
“What do we do now?” he asked quietly.
Sarah reached for her mate, and Athan stood, sliding his arm around her waist and steadying her. “We choose to live. Without more ripple effects. We forgive each other, and we movethe fuck on. Welive. For the first time in our fucked up lives. Can you do that?”
He stood and moved the chair away, humbling himself. “Yes. And I’ll be at your mercy. Your service. If ever you need it.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way…but I don’twantit,” Sarah said, tilting his chin up and looking into his eyes. “Not because of what you did…but becauseI’m not her, Decclan.” Another tear left his eye, and he tightened his mouth. It was weird to see such a braugh man break. “You fools keep calling me a whitebird. If you truly believe I’ve saved you, then go do something with it…and for God’s sake let her go, dude. She’s fuckingbeneathyou, Decclan.”
He huffed through his nose, and wiped his eye as he nodded, smiling tearfully. “Yeah…I know. I am sorry, Sarah. Kane…both of you I—I’m deeply sorry for everything I’ve caused you.”
Sarah smashed her palm into his forehead, and he stumbled back in shock. “Forgiven.” Athan snorted beside her and tried to hide his smile as Decclan recovered. “Now, get over it so we can too…mate.”
A few drinks, and several dizzying dances later, Sarah and Athan finally left the pub, and took a taxi back to the airport. Devin had tried to stick his tongue in her mouth at least a dozen times, and even sicked a drunken blonde who reminded her way too much of Rachel Foster, on her in an attempt at a threesome. Athan seemed ten times as relaxed and cheerful as they headed to the terminal to catch their connecting flight. It was likely equal parts relief, and the anticipation of seeing Old London again. He didn’t even seem as unsteady as they boarded their second plane.
“You were wrong, you know…” he smirked, kissing each one of her fingers as they waited to take off. Sarah scrunched her brows and shot her face towards him.
“Wrong about what?”
He playfully bit down on one of her knuckles, and kissed over it. “This plane isn’t a bird of a different feather, love.” His sapphire eyes smoldered. “You are.”
CHAPTER 38
DENVER
“Your Honor, the fact that they presented this patient with a statement is irrelevant. The dosage of this drug in pill form is exactly the same as the dosage in injection, and the difference in the price is astronomical. It’s highway robbery, and they can’t expect young patients already suffering with cancer to be able to swallow down a huge pill. The injection is medically necessary in plenty of cases, as you can see by the documents I’ve submitted to the court.” Brent tossed his hands towards the judge as she read over several pieces of paper.
“Yes, but insurance has stipulations that state that the price may or may not be covered under them, and that’s not my client’s responsibility to determine. Blaine Pharmaceuticals has absolutely nothing to do with a patient’s choice of insurance, nor do they have any responsibility for the treatment plan of any individual patient.” The woman in opposing counsel was young, and fierce, but he could swear she had a look in her eye that said she completely agreed with his argument—that just wasn’t her job. The judge peered over the top of her paper to rake her eyes up and down Brent’s body.
“Miss Danforth, while I understand your argument, he makes a very valid point. Why the big difference in the price of two identical drugs?”
The young lawyer’s face pinked, and she glanced over at the CEO of Blaine Pharmaceuticals before swallowing. “The price is determined by availability, Your Honor.”
“Bullshit,” Brent spat, standing. The judge shot him a warning look. “It’s a scam, and a really shady one. If aninsurance company refused to pay this outrageous amount, no one in their right mind who is battling cancer could afford an out-of-pocket expense like this at this stage of their treatment. If it’s available for pennies on the dollar in one form, then all it takes is a skilled nurse, and a tech to compound it in a pharmacy to administer it to someone that desperately needs it. Your client is making millions on robbing the sick and poor. It’s a slap in the face to every person that formulated a drug to counter terminal disease.”
Judge Harlow softly nodded in agreement and glanced at the trembling lawyer. “While I’m not enthusiastic about his choice of vocabulary, he makes another valid point, Miss Danforth. Do you have any documents to submit to the court regarding the reason for the difference?”
The CEO shook his head and seethed next to his representation as she hung her head. “No, Your Honor.”
“Very well then…judgment for the plaintiff in the amount of $11,543.58…” She pounded the gavel and stood as she leaned over her bench and narrowed her eyes at Brent. “And Mr. Stratford, I’ve already heard about your antics. I can admire your work offering pro-bono aid to those less fortunate, but the next time you walk into my courtroom wearing jeans, and a t-shirt beneath a blazer, you’ll be asked to leave, and your case thrown out. Do we understand each other?”
Brent gulped and tried not to smile. “Yes, Your Honor.”
“Good. You might have been a big shot in Boston, and I don’t care what your last name is. Your wardrobe needs to reflect what we do here. I advise you to keep that in mind. The court will dismiss for lunch.” The judge’s back popped as she scooted her chair back, and the courtroom rustled with those eager to leave as she trudged to her chambers. Brent stepped over to the timid lawyer, who had been left to sulk on her own.
