Page 11 of We Are Yours
“Boy…” Roland breathed out, shaking his head at me. “What part of my medical license being revoked do you not understand?”
“You’ve stitched us up before. Especially Kraven. What’s the problem?”
“The problem is I don’t know this girl from a hole in the wall”—he sternly pointed at me—“and neither do you.”
“Yeah, well, you’re sober now, right? Because you’re all she’s got.”
Through a clipped expression, he asked, “What happened to her?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Juliu—”
“Can you lecture me after you fix her up, Roland? Please.”
“Juli—”
“Come on,” I adamantly persuaded. “You took an oath to help people, and you know I can’t take her anywhere without getting in trouble myself. Nobody’s seen Joe for a minute, so he can’t be bribed to play good dad for the cops. You’re literally all she’s got, Dr. Matthews.”
He grimaced. It was quick, but I saw it. The truth was that Roland was a great doctor and a friend. He was just a bad drunk and suffering the consequences of that. He’d been looking out for us for as long as I could remember, battling his own demons like we all were.
After Mom split, Joe came around less and less. Their marriage was toxic as hell. However, it didn’t mean he didn’t love her.
She was the love of his life, and everything went to shit after she left. It wasn’t just her sons she abandoned. It was her husband, too, and since that was too big a pill to swallow, he simply turned his back on us and walked away from the problem instead.
He was forever searching for another escape.
Unless he needed money that we eventually had to hide by burying it in the backyard or else he’d sniff it out in the house and steal it from us, we didn’t see him.
We learned that lesson the hard way, too. Joe had no boundaries left. He’d crossed them all. Deadbeat dad would be too kind a term for him. He was a junkie and a drunk, plain and simple. And when we needed to find him, we usually could. He had his regular spots, and he was well-known in the neighborhood. People knew who Joe Knightly was.
As a thief.
A liar.
A manipulator.
The list was endless, none of which were good things.
Once Roland finished, he declared, “I’ll be back in ten minutes.” Gesturing to his hands, he added, “Keep pressure on this rag until I’m back.”
I switched places with him. “Thank you.”
He stepped back, stating, “Don’t thank me yet. She’s still unconscious.”
His words weighed heavily on me as he left. Suddenly, I heard the garage doorframe creak, and I shifted my eyes to Kraven, where he was leaning against it.
Before I could say anything, he scoffed out, “You’re a fool.”
“No more than you are,” I argued.
He pushed off the frame. “She’s just a girl, Julius.”
Not having the patience for this conversation, I lost my temper. “And you’re just my little brother.”
“All the more reason you should listen to me. It’s blatantly obvious that she’s in trouble.”
“So what am I supposed to do? Throw her out on the street?”
