Page 94 of The Fates We Tame

I have no choice but to believe her. “Sophia’s family was prepared to marry her off to some man she didn’t want to marry. We think that’s what she was driving away from before her accident. So, we left, and I married Sophia.”

I hear a cough and splutter on the other end of the line. “When I picked up my coffee to take a quick sip, those were not the words I was expecting. Boredom, the need for a little freedom, some excitement. But marriage? You married Sophia? And escaping an arranged marriage?”

“That’s what I said, Doc. I need you to see her.”

There’s a pause. “Theo. Her family closed out her account here. They came and emptied her room.”

“I guessed they would. But I’ll pay. I’ll cover her bills. I’ll even pay you cash in advance if you’re worried about me not being good for the money.”

Another pause. “Theo. What I do? It was never about the money. I’d come and see the two of you simply because I careabout my patients. And, quite frankly, if what you say is true, I would help her do anything to escape her family. But, Theo, you need to know. On a medical scale of one to ten, I care about Sophia’s somewhere around a three. Because she has been with us for a while. She’s healed. She’s done therapy and rehabilitation. Her injuries are as healed as they are likely to get. You, on the other hand, are a nine. You need the care we can provide significantly more than Sophia does.”

I look at myself in the mirror. I see the narrowing of my eyes because the light in here seems too bright. Because I feel another headache coming on. “Fine. You can see us both, Doc.”

“Then I have a deal for you, Theo. I will continue to see you both if you tell me exactly what happened to you the night you were injured. I will sign a nondisclosure if that makes you feel more comfortable.”

I take a deep breath. “Done. I will bring both of us in one evening. Sophia’s family can’t be notified. If they are there when we get there, there will be bloodshed on your hands, Doc.”

“Understood. I have no intention of ever communicating with them on Sophia’s behalf again. If I am seeing you both for one night, I would like to have some of the others stay to see you. You will be seen by our staff for any CT or MRI required. I will book you in under pseudonyms. Of course, the staff will recognize you both immediately when you arrive, but I will, in real time, warn them that they are not to contact her family.”

“If it helps, they are trying to enforce a guardianship agreement put in place to get Sophia back, saying I influenced her.”

“I can very quickly write Sophia a letter to show I find her to be perfectly capable of making these decisions for herself now. I can have it to you within thirty minutes.”

I let out a whoosh of air. “You’re the best, Doc.”

“Doctor Polunin. And, yes, I am.”

I chuckle at that. “You don’t really want me to call you ‘Doctor Polunin,’ do you?”

I hear her laughter. “It’s lovely to hear from you, Theo. I will see you in four days. To be safe, it should be late.”

“Midnight work for you, Doc?”

“Midnight. Promptly. At one second after, I will be walking to my car.”

“We’ll be there.”

I hang up the phone, relief in my chest. I send a quick text to Sophia, knowing she is home with Catalina. All the women will be there soon, being dropped off by their men on the way to the clubhouse. The house will be well protected with prospects and everyone not holding key positions.

I tuck my various weapons into their holsters and hit the medical room on my way to the bar.

“You busy?” Spark asks as I complete an inventory I found on the computer in there. Never thought something so mundane as separating triangular, tubular, and roller bandages could be so satisfying. I tick off the amounts I need.

“Not doing anything that can’t wait. What’s up?”

Spark comes into the room and perches on the medical bed, his feet out in front of him, his arms crossed. “I wanted to talk about what happened the other day.”

I close the inventory list. “Yeah?”

“I thought I was over it. Thought I’d processed everything. But with the baby and Iris…guess I haven’t.”

Over the past couple of days, I’ve read up on PTSD. “PTSD recovery isn’t linear. Retraumatization and setbacks are all par for the course. And the likelihood increases during stressful moments.”

The look of anguish on his face tugs at me.

“I asked Vex to fill me in on everyone’s history in the hospital,” I continue. “I know what happened to you at AbbeyGate in Afghanistan. And about what happened to Iris. I’ve felt a fraction of that at the thought Sophia’s family might take her away. So, I can’t imagine how you felt going through the thought she might be taken from you permanently. And we were bombed. Right here, in a place where we are meant to be safe, while your woman, pregnant with your baby, was right there. Two minutes earlier, she’d have been sat by the window. If you draw a Venn diagram between your history, Iris’s abduction, and the bomb, right in the middle is you and PTSD.”

Spark blows out a deep breath. “So how do I fix it, brother?”