The Thief (Black Dagger Brotherhood #16)(8)

This evening.

Liarcheatwhore.

The reality was, though, that his brain was clamoring under his skull, his demons were screaming at him, and there seemed like no end in sight to the torture. Fuck, if he didn’t purge the chaos, he was going to end up in Assail’s lunatic shoes.

Psychosis was an old friend, after all.

In fact, for him, madness was like a next-door neighbor who disregarded property lines now and again, not just trespassing on the land, but moving into the house.

And wrecking the place.

He had to do something or the pressure inside was going to consume him—and the fact that he didn’t even think to talk to Jane about what was going on with him? It was hard to know if that was a symptom or the disease itself. Hell, maybe it was more practical than that. Her priorities were many, her time was few, and in the grand scheme of things, as this hateful war ground to its bloody conclusion, whatever that looked like, everyone was better off with her treating her patients rather than trying to save him from himself.

Division of labor and all that shit.

So yes, he would do what he knew he could to bring himself back to earth. And then when his feet were not just touching the ground, but firmly on it, he could resume life next to her.

What was his other option?

As he waited for the hundredth time for a different course of action to come to him, he was dimly aware that he was seeking an answer out of the very thing that was broken: He was looking for his fucked-up brain to provide a path out of this infidelity, even though his mind was the very thing that was unreliable.

Nothing like trying to survey a landscape with a broken compass, a flashlight with no batteries in it, and night goggles with busted lenses—

The scent of a sexually aroused female bloomed in the penthouse and he did not turn around. He knew who had arrived and was standing in that doorway that he had left open. Knew precisely what she was wearing because he had informed her what he was going to see on her body. Knew that she would be, at this very moment, getting onto her hands and knees and entering on all fours.

Knew she would wait until he gave her an order.

Vishous reached out and took the first of the vodka bottles. He opened it like a pro, but then he had had plenty of experience.

LIARCHEATWHORELIARCHEATWHORELIARCHEATWHORE—

He drank from the neck until his stomach burned as much as the center of his chest did. And then he turned around.





FIVE


Wait, what are we doing here? Doc Jane thought as Assail’s cousins turned away from her and walked off down the training center’s corridor. What was the decision?

John Matthew and Rhage were right on the pair’s exit, decamping from their leans by the office’s glass door and falling into a long stride that brought them past her.

Rhage paused as the other fighter continued on. “What did they say?”

Before she could weigh the privacy issues, she replied, “That they were going to do what was necessary.”

“So they’re…ending things?”

“They were really not clear.” She put a hand through her short blond hair. “I’ll follow up with them later.”

It hadn’t felt right to press them, and besides, she was uneasy with this whole thing anyway. Tomorrow at nightfall, she’d call them and see if she could get some clarity. It wasn’t like they had access to Assail without her—so she didn’t need to worry about them going homegrown with a lights-out solution.

Rhage frowned and put his hands on his black-leather-clad hips. “Well, if you need them escorted in here again, just let us know.”

“I will, and thanks.” As the Brother went to stride off, she caught his arm. “Hey, Rhage? Wasn’t Vishous supposed to be with you?”

“Yeah, he was. But he called in and John Matthew took his shift.”

“Is he—well, that’s fine. He’s probably at the Pit.”

“You know, you guys should take some time off.” Hollywood smiled, his Bahama blue eyes glowing. “All you do is work. Both of you.”

“That’s not true—”

“I can’t remember the last meal I saw you guys at.” He shrugged and took out a Tootsie Pop. When he looked at it, he cursed. “Orange. I don’t like orange. Then again, I got it out in the dark. Thatswhathesaid.”

Doc Jane laughed. “Really.”

“Michael Scott is my hero, what can I say.”

Rhage gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze and then he caught up quick to the twins and John Matthew.

Doc Jane checked her phone again, and when she saw that there was still just a lot of nothing on the screen, she mentally ran through her patient-status list. Assail was…exactly where he had been. Luchas was in the pool doing PT with Ehlena. No other beds were in use and she wasn’t due for Rhamp and Lyric’s regular checkup for another two hours.

She thought about texting Vishous and asking where he was, but an awkward, unpleasant sensation stopped her—and it took her a minute to figure out what it was.

Intrusion.

She felt as though it would be an intrusion to reach out to him, and the more she considered the tightness in her chest, the clearer things became. When had this started, she wondered. When had she begun to believe she was bothering her mate if she shot him a text?

That was wrong, she thought. All wrong.