Sighing, I rubbed the back of my neck and said, “I remember following the ambulance. I remember Healer shouting and then pumping Mia’s chest. I remember waiting for what like seemed hours when he came out and gave us the bad news. I remember Caroline crying. I needed some fresh air. Everything seemed like it was closing in on me, and I went outside for some air. I remember sitting on my bike, but after that, everything gets fuzzy. I woke up this morning in a house I’d never been in, in clothes I’d never wear, with a cab waiting on me.”
“Guess you don’t know about that fancy haircut, then?” Reaper said, looking down as he tried to hide his smirk.
“What?” I said, reaching up to feel the top of my head. My hair was cut short! Who the fuck cut my hair? “I’m gonna kill the mother fucker who did this.”
“Gotta remember him first,” Healer deadpanned, taking my blood pressure.
“Anyone ever tell you,”
“That my bedside manner sucks, yeah,” Healer finished for me then added, “Lay down on your stomach. I want to get a good look at your back.”
Doing as he instructed, I got comfortable and prayed the damage wasn’t too bad. However, when Healer whistled again, I knew I wasn’t so lucky. Whatever the fuck happened, it was bad.
“Just tell me,” I sighed, closing my eyes.
“Reaper is right. It is a pentacle. Looks to be no bigger than a four-by-four brand right between your shoulder blades. The area is still raw from the brand, and though it’s going to take time to heal, there isn’t much I can do. Whoever did this wanted it to be permanent, Ghost. Maybe once you’re healed, I might be able to do something, but I don’t know what. Hell, I don’t think even Ink could fix this. And you don’t remember someone doing this to you?”
“No.”
“Well, I’m going to clean the area as best I can and give you a shot of antibiotics. In the meantime, you need to stay down here until I get your blood work back.”
“Healer,” I barely whispered, looking directly at Reaper, who nodded, knowing what I was about to say. He remembered the stories when our dads talked about this vicious cult. He knew what they were capable of. “Under the bottom left point, there is a tracking device. Cut it out.”
“Excuse me?”
Reaper stood. “You heard him. Do it.”
Healer reached for a small blade on his instrument tray. Taking a deep breath, I gripped the gurney as Healer cut into my already aggravated skin. Sweat beaded on my forehead as Healer reached for a pair of tweezers and pulled the small device from under my skin.
“Holy fuck,” Healer gasped, looking at the tiny device. “What the fuck Ghost? What the hell is going on?”
“Give it to me,” Reaper said right before exhaustion kicked my ass, and I passed out.
My body ached all over from whatever Healer did to me. I shouldn’t have made such a fuss, but I wasn’t thinking clearly in my defense. Whatever he injected me with not only made me relax, but it also made me loopy as fuck. As it was, I was in the clinic for two days before Healer let me leave. He said my bloodwork came back normal, and though I still couldn’t remember anything of my time away, he suggested that I just relax and not think of it. Eventually, it would come back to me. However, I wasn’t so sure.
The cool ocean air felt good on my face, and though I didn’t want to be here, I wasn’t allowed to leave, either.
It was Mia’s funeral.
My wife’s funeral.
I couldn’t just ignore it. Well, technically, I could, but Reaper made sure my ass attended as my own fucking brothers, Grimm and Shadow stood on either side of me. Of course, having Vicious at my back was more worrisome. The big fucking German was still pissed that I owed him money. Not that I’d give him a fucking dime. He cheated, and cheaters don’t get shit from me.
“Get started, Padre, my woman, is cold,” Reaper ordered, pulling Remi closer as she silently cried. I should have been happy for Reaper and Remi. Glad they had found each other after everything they both endured. Remi was a sweet woman who had been dealt a shitty hand in life. Through it all, she found a way to accept him, stay positive and look for the good in him, unlike the man next to her, who only saw evil and destruction. They were a good match.
Yet, I wasn’t. Why should they get to be happy when I wasn’t. I had a woman too. Well, technically, I forced her to marry me. Did that still make her my woman? Probably not since she couldn’t stand me. Of course, the feeling was mutual. She was a real pain in my ass. Never did as I asked, always what she wanted. She fought me every step of the way. Nope, our marriage was not the lovey gooey shit people write home about. Hell, we were more suited for the Jerry Springer Show than Love Boat. So, there I stood, listening to some Preacher talk about the pain of death. Like he’d fucking know what real pain was.
So, no, I wasn’t happy for Reaper.
I was angry.
It should have been me in that coffin, not her. It should have been Mia standing here leaning on friends and family. But it wasn’t. Cruel fucking twist of fate if you ask me.
Instead of cherishing her or loving her.
I ignored her.
I fought with her.