Page 56 of The Ecstasy of Sin (Brutal Brotherhood #1)
Dominic
It’s been two and a half hours since we first sat down with Dr. Everly. Wren is exhausted, her face tense and her brows slightly furrowed as she tries to concentrate on the doctor. If this wasn’t such an important appointment, I’d throw her over my shoulder and carry her upstairs to bed.
The movers were scheduled to arrive around the same time we did, with only my bedroom left to set up. Knowing our bed is up there, ready to be her sanctuary, makes my skin itch with the need to take her upstairs and show her where we’ll be spending a lot of time moving forward.
Dr. Everly sits across from us, her legs crossed at the ankles, poised beside a set of scans detailing Wren’s beautiful brain.
“I’ve found several small white matter lesions scattered throughout your brain, indicative of your condition.
These spots may be contributing to the permanent neurological symptoms you’ve described.
There’s no evidence of tumors or anything requiring immediate intervention.
However, considering your family history, we’ll continue to monitor your brain yearly to ensure everything remains stable. ”
I glance at Wren and see the exhaustion etched into her face. She sighs, her eyes dropping to the floor like she expected this. Like she assumed the doctor would confirm what she’s feared all along—that she’s broken beyond repair. That she doesn’t deserve help. That she’s a lost cause.
I wrap an arm around Wren’s waist and pull her into my lap, not giving a fuck what the doctor might think of it. She lets out a startled sound, her eyes widening as she settles on my thighs.
If Dr. Everly’s bothered by the display, she doesn’t show it.
I stroke Wren’s cheek, brushing my thumb across her trembling lower lip. “Whatever she finds doesn’t define your worth. It tells the story of your struggle.”
She’s quiet for a moment, then her glassy eyes lift to mine. She blinks, and a few tears slip free.
“You know me too well,” she whispers.
“Better than you realize.” I wrap her tighter against my chest as she presses her face into the crook of my neck.
When her tears finally stop, she turns in my lap to face the doctor. She tries to slip off me and back into the seat beside mine, but I stop her with a shake of my head and a firmer grip on her hips.
“What’s our next step, then?” Wren asks.
Dr. Everly lifts her clipboard and flips through the first few sheets.
“Your current preventative medication is working moderately well, but given the persistent side effects, I’d like to try a different option.
I’d also recommend introducing an abortive medication for acute attacks, and implementing dietary and supplement supports to better protect your neurological health. ”
She pauses, scanning the paper again. “I assume medication costs aren’t a limiting factor?” Her eyes flick to mine.
Wren tenses where she sits in my lap, and I can tell she’s forcing her muscles to relax by sheer force of will.
Good girl.
“Of course not. Whatever treatments she needs, including anything else you think could help, we’ll pursue.”
The doctor nods, scribbling more notes, before flipping to the next page.
“The usual recommendations still stand,” Dr. Everly says, scanning through her paperwork. “Low stress, consistent physical activity, a nutrient-rich diet, and plenty of hydration.”
I make a mental note of every word.
Low stress is definitely my top priority. With Wren living here, safe and cared for, I’ll see to it that her chronic stress becomes a distant memory.
“What about a service dog?” I ask, glancing at Wren as she turns toward me, a look of surprise on her face. “I have a dog with all of the foundational obedience, and the right temperament to accompany her in public. Are there things I can teach him to help with her migraines?”
The doctor smiles. “Yes, of course. That’s an excellent idea.
I have another patient who uses a service dog for migraine management.
The dog guides her in public during the aura phase when she loses her vision, and assists with household tasks.
She’s been working on training a medical alert to warn of an incoming migraine, so she can dose her abortive medication more accurately. ”
“That’s incredible,” Wren breathes, before turning toward me again. “But I can’t take Hunter away from you.”
I offer her a smile. “You’re not taking anything away. We’re always together. If he enjoys working and wants to help you, we should let him. I’ll take care of his training.”
Wren’s eyes are glassy again, and my chest aches at the sight. She’s so soft, so vulnerable, but she’s stronger than she’ll ever admit. She has a quiet, resilient strength that I want to nurture and protect with everything that I am.
Dr. Everly nods and sets the clipboard aside. “Perfect. Wren, dear, you can get some rest while I finish writing up your treatment plan. I’ll send the prescriptions to the nearest pharmacy so you can begin tomorrow.”
“Thank you so much, Dr. Everly,” Wren says with a tired but sincere smile.
I nod as well. “Yes. We appreciate everything. We’ll be in touch.”
Dr. Everly rises, gathering the scans and her notes. “Be sure to track any new side effects. We’ll review everything together in two weeks. If the medication causes any serious issues, call me immediately.”
Wren and I rise and head for the door, while the doctor returns to her desk.
Neither of them know it yet, but I’ve already decided to make her a permanent offer—an obscene salary, a research grant, and a lifetime of freedom to focus on new migraine research, all in exchange for her continued care of Wren and my brothers .
Now that I think of it, I should hire an on-site veterinarian, too.
As soon as we step into the hallway, Wren heads toward the elevator. I catch her hand and gently tug her to a stop.
“No pressure, but my brothers are here. Do you want to go upstairs and rest, or do you want to sit in on our meeting?” My thumb brushes along the inside of her wrist.
She hesitates, a yawn catching her off guard. She covers her mouth with one hand, blinking through the haze of exhaustion.
“I don’t want to wander the house alone… or go to bed without you,” she admits softly. “But are you sure it’s okay if I’m there while you guys…” Her voice fades, the rest implied.
“While we talk about disturbing, criminal-level shit?” I supply helpfully.
Her eyes widen slightly, then she gives a small nod.
“Of course you can be there. My brothers and I don’t keep secrets from each other, and I sure as hell won’t keep secrets from you.”
She gives my hand a squeeze, and I redirect us towards the gym doors.
I slide the heavy doors open, ushering her through. The sound of raised voices echoes off the walls, leading us to a smaller room tucked in the back corner. It’s a private alcove, outfitted with couches, armchairs, and a wall of fridges stocked with bottled water, energy drinks, and protein bars.
“Don’t you fucking start with me,” Ghost snaps, pointing a finger in Ryker’s face. “I can only take your bullshit in small fucking doses. ”
“I’m just pointing out the obvious,” Ryker says with a shrug, infuriatingly calm.
“Whoever told you our family needed a sarcastic, pot-stirring asshole was delusional,” Torin mutters from his post against the wall, his heavily scarred arms folded across his chest. “They were probably just hoping one of us would shoot you someday.”
Ryker smirks, stepping back and mirroring Torin’s stance. “Without me, the three of you would be boring, cranky fucks with sticks jammed up your asses.”
“One day,” I groan as Wren and I step fully into the room, “the sun will rise and set without Ryker starting shit.”
Ryker grins at our arrival, and Ghost—still visibly seconds away from violence—turns away from him to face us.
“Doubtful,” Ghost mutters, his eyes narrowing.
“How’d it go?” Torin asks, pushing off the wall and striding toward us.
“My appointment?” Wren asks, glancing between the three of them.
Torin nods. “Yeah. Dom said you were meeting the new doc. Thought he might be late.”
Ryker steps up beside Torin, throwing an arm over his shoulders. Torin flinches, but quickly hides the subtle reaction. He isn’t big on uninvited touch, not that I can blame him. “The hot new doctor? Fuck, man, she’s a stunner.”
“She’s old enough to be your grandma,” Ghost deadpans .
“Experienced,” Ryker corrects with a wink. “And she’s an educated woman. Bet she knows exactly what to do with a dick as big as mine.”
Torin groans, and shoves Ryker away.
I shake my head, scowling at the idiot I somehow love like we share DNA.
Wren giggles, a sound that is unguarded and light. I want to hear her laugh just like that every day for the rest of our lives.
Ghost smacks Ryker on the back of the head. “Let Wren talk, you fuck.”
A small smile tugs at the corner of Wren’s mouth. “The appointment went well, I think. I’ve got new medications to try.”
Torin nods. “Glad to hear it.”
I tug Wren closer, and place a kiss to her temple, before shouldering past my brothers and guiding her to one of the couches. They move behind us, and within seconds, we’re all seated together.
“Let’s get down to business,” I start, nodding towards Ghost.
“Actually,” Torin interjects, his voice low. “I was hoping we could discuss the compound first.”
Ghost nods. “Security is set. I’ve got multiple systems live as of this week.
Electric fencing with a barrier to keep the dogs and wildlife safe, full camera coverage, gate entry, and patrol routes active across the property.
I’ve also hijacked city cameras, and installed some new ones at key points, so we always know what cars and bodies are moving in and out of the area. ”