Page 10 of White Raven (Nevermore Duet #2)

Dr. Ambrose swallowed hard. “I didn’t know him personally, no.

Gretchen was—she and I were very close in high school.

We lost touch when I was in college. I know what Conrad did to her.

I should have gotten her help. We’re past that point now.

The least I can do is look out for this man.

He’s been brave enough. He doesn’t need to take on the world without someone to catch him if he stumbles. ”

Somehow, Sarah got the feeling that her intentions, however admirable, went a bit deeper than her acquaintance with Gretchen.

She sensed some attraction there. Her mind immediately went to Wren, who seemed disinterested in pursuing anything with Brent right now, but what the doctor said couldn’t be argued with. She understood it just the same.

“I’ll talk to him, doc. Thank you for letting me know. Odd as it sounds, we—we used to date. I know how stubborn he is. We’ll keep a close eye on him. You have my word.”

It was almost insulting how Dr. Ambrose looked her up and down after that, but Sarah decided not to let it get to her.

Had she not had Athan, it might have even bothered her, but she honestly felt nothing.

It wasn’t like the press hadn’t had the same bullshit opinion as she probably did right now regarding their compatibility. None of that mattered now, anyway.

“I appreciate it. Good luck to you. Thanks for lending an ear.” Her smile seemed genuine, and Sarah returned it.

Maybe she was just reading too much into the whole thing.

Maybe she was grasping at anything other than John Allan’s uninvited presence in her mind.

She wasn’t sure. Dr. Ambrose disappeared down the hall and Sarah returned to Brent’s room.

They helped with his bags, and the nurse brought a wheelchair to the door.

“Must we?” Brent frowned, eyeing the chair.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stratford. You know the drill.” The nurse smiled sweetly at him.

“I didn’t do it,” Sarah grinned, catching Athan’s stare. He mirrored her grin and shook his head. Brent huffed a laugh and turned himself to sit in the wheelchair, forfeiting.

“They’ve been good to me. I won’t leave on bad terms. Thanks, Miss Browning.” The nurse blushed and turned him out. She accompanied them in the elevator, only letting him out when they’d reached the pick-up circle outside the entrance to the hospital.

“Take care of yourself, sir.” She patted him on the shoulder, and turned back, taking the wheelchair with her. When Brent faced them again, she and Athan were both staring at him. His smile faded.

“What?”

“Every female employee in this hospital is sweet on you, Brent.” Sarah’s snicker was teasing as she took the briefcase out of his hand.

“Jealous?” Brent boldly asked, earning a bellowing laugh from Athan, who spun his keys as he turned away to go get the car. Sarah rolled her eyes. “What was that about?” Brent asked, pointing a thumb in Athan’s direction.

“Karma dislikes me.”

He huffed a laugh. “You know most of them are probably only being nice because they think I’m coming into a ton of inheritance.”

“That doesn’t bother you?” Sarah asked, sitting on a bench close by to wait for Athan. Brent lowered himself down beside her.

“I should think you’d know I’m used to that kind of shit by now, Sarah.”

They stared forward, an awkward silence ensuing. “Has Wren reached out to you?”

He didn’t answer for a moment, and when she looked over his jaw feathered. “No.”

“Are you okay?” It seemed stupid to ask. About as stupid as asking Wren, which she had firmly decided not to do on Christmas morning. “I know the obvious…I just—feel like I should check in.”

“Dr. Ambrose tell you to do that?”

Sarah cut her eyes at him. “What if she did?”

“I’m not seeing a shrink. I’m fine, Sarah. I’ve got a lot to keep my mind occupied right now. I can take care of myself.”

“Like what?”

He grew quiet again, staring down at a wad of chewing gum on the sidewalk. “Mom’s funeral.”

In all the chaos, Sarah admittedly forgot about Patricia. A shudder of deep shame shot through her. She hung her head. “I’m so sorry, Brent. I—”

“You don’t have to do that, Sarah. I’m hardly the only one going through shit right now. Your plate’s been full since before I met you.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

Brent nudged her shoulder with his own. “Lighten up. It’s okay. As long as you show up for her, I’ll forgive that absentmindedness.” His smirk was comforting. Maybe he didn’t need therapy or medication. Maybe he just needed somebody to simply be around.

“I hate to ask this…but…are you having a joint service for—”

“No,” Brent’s smile immediately faded, and his jaw set again. He turned his attention back to the dirty pink blob on the concrete. “He’ll get no service. He can rot. She deserves to be honored without his shadow relentlessly outshining who she was.”

“Fair enough,” Sarah muttered, clicking her heels together. “What about Gretchen?”

He was quiet for a few minutes, and Athan’s black car became visible around the curve of the pick-up circle. “Her family wants her cremated. They’ll have a private service for her. At least that’s what Dr. Ambrose told me this morning. They already went uptown to claim her body.”

“What are you gonna do with Conrad?” She almost decided that she didn’t want to know, but curiosity got the best of her. Brent slowly stood as Athan pulled up.

“I think I’m gonna donate his body to science. Sign away my rights to his remains. I think it would be better if I never saw any piece of him again.”

“The irony of that is…very…”

“Fitting,” Athan finished, taking Brent’s bag and briefcase from Sarah as she stood up. He looked at Brent with understanding. “Fuck him.”

Brent’s eyes flashed with gratitude, and he nodded, tightening his smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Going to your place?” Athan asked.

“Yeah.”

They piled into the car, and none of them spoke the entire way to Brent’s apartment.

It wasn’t because of Sarah’s history with both of them, she realized.

It was more about the respect of being silent when no words were really needed.

As they let him out of the car, Brent took his belongings and refused their help getting inside.

Athan didn’t fight him on it, seeming to understand Brent’s need for some manner of independence.

But Sarah, being who she was, came around the hood and approached him.

They stood less than a foot away from each other.

“Don’t make me worry about you, Brent.” They locked eyes, and the grief she saw in them was there, but there was something else. Regret? Some sort of closure? Relief? It was confusing.

“Will you tell her I’m thinking about her?” he asked, cocking his head. She knew who he meant. Sarah half-smiled. “Tell her—tell her I’m sorry if…if I was too—”

“I’ll tell her.” She gave him an understanding nod, and he sighed through a smile as he stared down at the ground. Sarah leaned in and brought her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug and patting his back. “I’m not far. Pick up the damn phone, okay?”

“I will. Thanks.” He released her and jerked his head towards Athan who threw up two fingers out the window. When Sarah slid into the passenger seat, she was surprised to see Athan watching Brent walk into the building.

“He’s got more balls than I thought,” he said, thumbing his chin.

Maybe it wasn’t that much of a surprise. Their battle of who could make the other more jealous was obviously growing thicker. Sarah scoffed. “He might have royally fucked up, but I don’t want anything else to happen to him. I needed him to know that.”

Athan turned his face toward her. “I wasn’t talking about the tender embrace,” he smirked.

“No? What were you talking about?”

He looked back towards the building through the glass door where Brent’s figure was disappearing into the elevator ahead.

“It takes balls to pretend you’re not about to cave in on yourself.

He carries it well…but that dude is about to break.

” He paused, shaking his head and pinching his bottom lip with his fingers.

“I don’t even think he realizes it yet.”