Blood Vow (Black Dagger Legacy #2)(25)



Z held his stare, solid as a rock, about as far from psychotic as the brother had once been knee-deep in the crazy. “You are a tremendous father, you know that. You’re the real deal.”

Rhage looked away fast. Cleared his throat. “I feel like I’m failing her.”

“You’re right with her when she needs you most.”

“No, to do that, I’d have to be on that exam table. I’d have to have my body there instead of hers.”

“Not possible and you know it.” Z cursed softly. “The hardest thing about being a father is not being able to make everything all right for them. Sometimes the best you can do is just show up.”

“There has to be more to it.”

“If there is and you figure it out, let me know.”

“Ha! You’re the best father I’ve ever seen.”

“Tell you what, I’ll call your ass the next time I lie awake wondering how I could have screwed things up worse.”

“But it’s different for you.”

“Why.” When Rhage didn’t fill in the blank, Z didn’t let the unspoken remain silent. “Why, because Nalla is biologically mine? G’head, say it. ’Cuz when you hear that shit come out of your mouth, you’ll realize how stupid it is.”

“I just … I wonder if I’d be doing something better if … you know, I were really her sire.”

“Oh, like her biological father, you mean? Like the motherfucker who put her on that table? You want to be like him? Yeah, that’s a real improvement over a guy who’s been here in this corridor, looking like he’s going through open-heart surgery without anesthesia ’cuz his little girl’s having a hard time.”

Rhage rubbed his hair so hard his fingers were fuzzy when he stopped. “You wouldn’t understand. You’re never going to be in my shoes.”

“That’s my point, though. Whether you had a hand in birthing them or you volunteer to take them in, we’re all in the same shoes.”

Rhage stared at the closed door in front of him. “I’m scared, Z. I’m just … fucking scared. What if there’s something permanently wrong? That’s what Doc Jane is worried about, you know. She’s worried Bitty’s transition will ruin her arms and legs so badly … that they’re going to end up having to amputate them.”

The image of Bitty dancing through the foyer made his eyes sting. She was so active now … he couldn’t imagine her in a wheelchair that was operated by her blowing into a tube. It just killed him.

“What the … what the fuck are you talking about?” Z demanded.

“Something to do with growth plates. There were breaks that occurred right along”—He motioned to his thighs, his forearms, his calves—“you know, Bitty’s growth plates, and they healed wrong? So when the change hits her, they’re liable to bust open and be unrepairable.”

“Shit.”

“Mary doesn’t know.” Rhage went back to trying to pull his hair out. “Yeah, I should have told her before now, but I just didn’t know how. I told Doc Jane I would. But I’m a fucking coward for both of them. I was hoping … for good news, I guess, but the longer they’re in there, the more I think—”

Across the way, the exam room door swung open, and Doc Jane emerged.

One look at her face and he knew that the worst case had rolled out in there.

“How bad is it?” Rhage gritted as he jumped to his shitkickers. “And is there anything we can do?”





EIGHT


Turtleneck.

Hours later, as Axe sat silently in the back of the “school bus,” he tried to think of where in the hell he could get a turtleneck.

Reaching up to his throat, he massaged the side that he’d had tattooed and wondered if he could find one in his father’s shit. And didn’t that make him want a stiff drink … or maybe even a syringe full of lights-out.

He hadn’t been anywhere near his dad’s room since the death.

“Fuck,” he said to the blackened window.

To get out of his head, he looked away from his reflection—and hey, what do you know. Pey-pey had gotten bored of the don’t-touch-my-cousin routine, and was back in his primary mode of staring at Paradise as she sat beside her male.

No one had had a good time tonight, not that training was ever a party. But yeah, it stung when you were forced to meet your failures head on. What was fun? Seeing Peyton all castrated across the aisle from that female, wishing he could get in her head and help her out, be the savior he felt she needed. You could practically read the thought bubbles floating around.

Sorry, champ. She had all she required.

Novo stood up and walked down to Axe, shoving him over so she could take a load off. “I’m going at two a.m. When is your interview?”

“In a half hour.” He rubbed his tattoos, thinking they were probably going to work against him. “I gotta hustle.”

“Good luck.”

As the female put her palm out, Axe shook it. “You, too.”

“Guess it’s just you and me going for the job.” Her voice took on an edge. “Peyton already has enough money, and far be it from him to let gainful employment get in the way of his smoking up. Boone doesn’t need the cash, either—and Paradise and Craeg are already providing extra security at the Audience House on their nights off.”

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