Page 283 of Bad Wolf (Wild Men 4)

Yeah, I hate hospitals. Although I’ve only ever been here for the tests I had, to make sure I haven’t caught any nasty disease from my previous lifestyle, I hate them.

Lifestyle. That’s what the doc called it when he ordered the tests. Made it sound like a choice. Like an option.

“How’s Seth?” I ask for the hundredth time, and I’m again ignored. “Is his leg broken?”

“The doctor will be right with you in a second,” the nurse reassures me.

As if that’s what I’ve been asking her. The hell.

“Look, I’m fine. I just wanna check on my friend, okay?”

“Please stay here until the doctor arrives to examine you.” She gives me a stern look and goes away, closing the door behind her.

The fuck I will. I get up, slightly dizzy but well enough to walk, thank you very much. An arm wrapped around my ribs, my lower back burning like fire, aches blooming in every part of my body, I make my slow way out of the small room.

Need to find Seth. A ball of dread has settled in my gut. I’m afraid they aren’t telling me what the fuck’s wrong with him.

Because of me. He’s in here because of me.

Fucking hell.

I find another nurse on the way. She seems startled to see me wandering about, and she says something to that end, but I cut her off.

“I’m fine. I need to find Seth. Seth Tucker. I’m family.”

She opens her mouth to say something, seems to think better of it, and leads the way. She opens a door and hesitates. “Seth Tucker… he’s been admitted here before, a few months back. Another beating. You say you’re family. Is it someone in the house who’s beating you boys up?”

I’m touched by her concern. Her hazel eyes are kind.

“No, I say, it’s just—”

“Bad luck,” Seth says from inside the room, and I push the door open all the way. “Motherfucker, I’ve been asking and asking about you and nobody would fucking tell me where you were.”

The nurse departs, saying something about the doctor, and I take in Seth’s state.

Well, apart from the new cast on his leg, he doesn’t seem too bad for wear. Of course, that cast is a big thing. Hard to miss.

“Broken, huh?” I sink on the bed, bone-weary. “Shit.”

“Told you I got shit for luck.” He shoots me a crooked grin. “Not your fault.”

Yeah, right.

Goddammit. Seth is still recovering from the beating he got from Ev’s psychotic ex-boyfriend, and now this.

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so damn sorry.”

“Shut up, J. I said it’s not your fault. In fact, I’m glad to see you alive. I swear I thought they’d kill you, and I couldn’t even move.” He w

inces as he shifts on the bed, and I remember the thugs kicking him and beating him with the bats. “We need to change lifestyle, buddy. Somewhere tropical with palm trees and cocktails would do in a pinch.”

Lifestyle. That word again. I reach up to rub the back of my head and everything hurts. My side, my arm, my head. Ow, the back of my head is killing me. I can feel a lump there. My jaw hurts like a bitch, and I bet I have a black eye from the blow.

Christ. That was close. A shiver travels through me, and I do my best to hide it, gripping the edge of the narrow hospital bed.

“I need to talk to the police.”

The doctor proclaims me well enough to leave, filling out a prescription of strong painkillers and instructions to return if I experience double vision or nausea. A policeman—detective? Not sure—comes by to take our statement, and he leaves thoughtful after I explain to him my history with Simon and his position in the street hierarchy.

---