That fucking prick.
Rage was practically beating inside my chest, but it was laced with stark uneasiness. I had greatly underestimated him. I’d read him all wrong. Now I definitely knew that something was up with him. If he was willing to threaten me, a goddamn Heir, what was going on between him and Royal?
I stalked away, heading for my car where I left it at the curb. There was a meter maid there, looking over my car as she scrawled on a paper ticket, but when I walked up, she balked. “Oh, Mr. Salvador! I’m sorry, I didn’t know this was you.”
“No problem,” I said with a forced easygoing grin.
The thirty-something woman blushed at my attention and scrawled on the ticket she’d been writing before passing it over.
I took it, my eyes skating over her number. “Have a nice day, ma’am.”
She blushed again as I slid into my car and started the engine. After I pulled out on the street and drove away, I crumpled the paper and tossed it on the passenger seat, letting it bounce onto the floor. There was only one older woman I was interested in, and it wasn’t her number on that paper.
I drove back to my place, knowing I’d have to take care of Ma as soon as I got there, now that she’d been discharged. Even though I wanted nothing more than to follow Royal’s pretty little ass back to Rogue’s place and find out exactly what was going on, I had shit to take care of.
I always had shit to take care of.
Bonham was with Ma. Out of all the Heirs, she always liked him the best. Pretty boy had that effect on people, I guess. But even he couldn’t handle her for too long, especially with everything going on.
I sped down the road, feeling reckless and frustrated. I’d been the man of my house since the first time Ma overdosed when I was eleven. It was fucked up that the girl of my dreams didn’t see it that way, though. All she saw was the year on my birth certificate.
If I were speaking to my therapist still, he’d probably tell me I was focusing on Royal to avoid confronting my issues with Ma, but that wasn’t true. After years of disappointment, I learned to be desensitized to the shit she did. This was just another fork in the road she’d rip up with divots, just for the chance to be high again.
I parked and tossed my keys to the valet, ignoring the bouncer and customers. I was expected to show up, so I did. I’d been running most of Ma’s businesses since I was sixteen. She didn’t really care as long as the money was funneling through.
Royal thought I wanted to go to college, but what was the point of that? I got a crash course in running a business ages ago. I loved Savannah, and I had no desire to take a four-year vacation from it all if I was just going to come back to the same routine. Besides, I couldn’t leave Ma alone. She was my responsibility.
I didn’t want to go through the club to the elevator, so I went around the building to the side entrance. I took the stairs, going through the exterior access and then strode down the corridor to the main door. The walls were insulated as fuck, so the club music was barely audible up here. I unlocked it and let myself inside, but I immediately stopped on the threshold, frowning when I smelled pot and heard music playing.
“Bonham? Ma?” I called out.
No one answered, but the music was too loud for them to hear me anyway. I let the door shut behind me and took off my jacket, tossing it over the back of the couch before making my way over to her bedroom. I opened the door and let myself inside and was immediately hit in the fucking face with a wall of smoke. I waved a hand in front of me as I walked in, spotting my best friend and my ma high as fucking kites.
“Hey, man!” Bonham yelled over the music. I watched him limp over to the stereo and turn it down.
My eyes flickered to her bed, where Ma was pulling smoke from a joint like it was her last breath. Her cheeks were hollow, and she had that vacant look on her face I’d come to expect.
I sighed heavily. “I thought the whole idea was to get you clean,” I said reproachfully while rolling my eyes and walking over to her. I grabbed the joint from her fingers and took a long pull from it.
“It’s medicinal, mijo,” she chided. “Helps with my headaches.”
I gave Bonham an exasperated glare as I blew out the smoke. I couldn’t really blame him. He wouldn’t have been able to stop her any more than I could have. My ma did whatever the fuck she wanted. I should just be glad it was weed instead of the hard stuff.
Bonham held up his hands in surrender. “Listen, I brought it. I read an article that said weed can help with withdrawal symptoms. Figured it was better than the…” His blue eyes flickered to her then back at me. “Better than the hard stuff or popping pills.”
“Nothing’s better than the hard stuff,” Ma laughed before ripping the joint out of my fingers and taking another drag.
The thing was, I’d read the same article. I’d read all the articles. Attended discussion panels. Watched documentaries describing how the brain worked and what addiction did to it. I knew every damn thing there was about the disease, and one thing remained the same: You couldn’t change someone that didn’t want to be changed. You couldn’t push sobriety on someone living for the high.
“It’s fine, man,” I said, waving him off. “I know what you’re talking about. Maybe this will help.”
If anything, at least it would provide me with a little escape.
“How was Royal?” Bonham asked as I sat down on the bed beside Ma. She had leaned back and was looking up at the ceiling fan, eyes wide with wonder, hazed with the high.
Everyone but Godfrey knew about my little obsession with Royal Taylor. Hell, the night she left for Ecuador, Bonham took me out and got me drunk. I spilled my guts to him, and there was an embarrassing video of me singing about how beautiful she was hidden somewhere on his cell. He liked to hold it over me any chance he got.
I grumbled. “She’s fine. Lasted eleven minutes on that date before bolting. It’ll take time, but she’ll come around.”
“Don’t worry about it. That girl likes you,” Bonham said.
I grunted. “I don’t fucking trust that guy, though. I need you to do some digging.”
“The doctor?” he asked in surprise.
“Yeah.” I lowered my voice. “He fucking threatened me and Ma.”
Bonham immediately sobered. “What?”
I nodded but stole a glance back at Ma. I didn’t want her to hear this shit. She got easily paranoid when she was high.
“We’ll talk about it later.”
Bonham nodded. “Why is Royal involved with him?” He was leaning against the dresser, arms crossed at his chest with his lips pinched in annoyance. I was pretty sure his leg was killing him, but neither of us commented on it.
“Not sure.” But I was sure as shit gonna find out.
“Are you talking about Royal again, mijo? Is she enjoying Ecuador? Such a sweet girl,” she interrupted whimsically.
I rolled my eyes. “She’s back in Savannah, Ma. She’s the one that saved your bleeding ass when you hit that car and OD’d,” I gritted.
I didn’t like the flightiness of her mind. I wasn’t sure if the drugs made her forgetful or if she chose to ignore the fucked up shit she’d done to get away from the guilt. My eyes zoned in on the black bracelet attached to her ankle, the bright green flashing light a constant reminder that everything was hanging on the edge. Maybe she’d be better in prison. At least there, I’d know she was clean.
“Oh…” Ma said in a faraway voice. Then her expression suddenly went wild, and she stood up, adjusting the ankle-length pajama dress she was wearing before pacing the floors. “Oh no, mijo. I…I did something bad. I hit that other car…There were people… ”
I went forward to grab her, but she jerked out of my grasp before I could get a solid hold on her. Her dark hair was a mess, her brown eyes frenzied. “Ma—”
“Is...is that baby okay?” she asked, tears filling her eyes as paranoia started to sink in.
Shit, maybe weed was a bad idea.
“Y
eah. The baby is okay, Ma. Sit down, you’re freaking out.”
“I didn’t mean to, you know. It was an accident…”
She sat down on the floor of her bedroom and tucked her knees under her chin, rocking back and forth as she murmured under her breath, and tears started tracking down her face. My back tensed as I watched her break down.
A heavy sigh left my lips. “I know you didn’t mean to, Ma.”
She never meant to. She didn’t mean to be a bad mom. She didn’t mean to hurt people. She didn’t mean to get so high she couldn’t fucking function. But she did.
She started digging her nails into the carpet and shaking her head as her sobbing got louder. “Come on, Mrs. Salvador. How about you rest in bed for a bit? I can put on one of your soap operas.” Bonham started to go forward to try and help her up, but he gasped out in pain when he moved too quickly. His face grew pale, and he barely made it two steps over to sit on the edge of the bed. “Fuck,” he whispered.
Concern filled me. It took all of my willpower to keep my feet planted on the ground and not go help him. He’d fucking hate me if I did.
“Are you okay, bro?” I asked.
He clenched his teeth, and I noticed a thin layer of sweat bead on his forehead. He rubbed a hand down his calf with a grimace, and he slowly shook his head. “No, man. I think I overdid it today. I don’t know if I can drive home like this.”
Shock filled me because this was Bonham. No matter what, he always acted like he was fine, even when he wasn’t. For him to admit that he was fucked up was huge.
I looked over to my ma, who was still sobbing on the carpet, and then back at him. This was another shitty part of my life. I wanted to be there for my friends, but helping her always got in the way. I was torn between the people who I wished were my blood and the person that actually was.
“Want me to order you a ride?” I asked.
“Nah, I have a friend that can pick me up,” he said, already typing away on his phone.
I frowned. “A friend?” I asked, baffled. “Who?”
“I do have other friends besides you, Rogue, and Godfrey.”
“Scarlett,” I guessed.
He rolled his eyes and slipped his phone back into his pocket. “No.”
My frown deepened. “Rachel?”
“No.”
“Dude. That’s all the friends you have. Who the hell are you talking about?”
Bonham gave me a bored look. “Are you jealous? Do you wanna give me a friendship bracelet that says B.F. Fuckin’ F. on it?” he asked like a smart ass. “Stop being such a nosy girl. People like me. I’m the nice Heir.”
You used to be. I barely bit my tongue before the words actually slipped out. “It’s a chick,” I said, proud of my deducing skills.
Bonham’s lips thinned, and the tips of his ears turned red, but he didn’t deny it. Before I could gloat and needle him with questions, Ma started moaning and scratching her face, her long nails digging into the skin of her frail cheeks with a vengeance.
“I’ll get out of here so you can...deal with this,” Bonham said, his gaze flicking over to my ma. If it were anyone else other than the Heirs seeing her like this, I’d be embarrassed and pissed, but they were like brothers to me, and we took care of our own.
“Okay, man. Thanks for coming.”
“Anytime.”
I went forward and held my hand out for him to slap, but I used it as an excuse to help pull him to his feet. He grimaced and swore under his breath. “You need help to the elevator?”
Bonham shook his head. “I’m good.”
I doubted that, but he was a stubborn fucker who couldn’t be pushed, and I couldn’t leave.
“Okay.”
Bonham limped out, and I listened to the sounds of his heavy steps until they disappeared before turning to look at my ma. She was still crying softly and talking to herself, and I wondered again how the fuck this woman got like this.
I crouched down next to her on the floor. “Come on, Ma.”
I scooped her up in my arms like she was the child in this relationship. Some people didn’t understand the reversal in our dynamic, but it was all I knew. I always took care of her. Even when I resented her. Even when I hated her. She was the only blood family I had, and I didn’t abandon my own.
“I messed up bad, mijo,” she said, tilting her head up to stare at me.
The rims of her eyes were red with worry as salty tears streamed down her cheeks. I pulled the tissues I kept in my pocket for moments like this and used them to dab at her eyes.
“I know, Ma. I know.”
She wasn’t a bad person. The drugs had just turned her dependability to tar.
“I don’t want to be this person anymore,” she cried against my chest, her sweat sticking to my shirt. “I don’t want this body,” she moaned while picking at her skin, tearing at the track marks that were always scarred there. “It was just a baby, mijo. A little baby. I remember when you were that little. I could have killed that little baby.”
I held her tightly as I walked over to the bed, knowing that no words I said would change the self-loathing she felt. I’d seen her like this many times, but no matter what experts said about hitting rock bottom, it never seemed to matter for her. Every time she hit a low, she just seemed to dig an even deeper layer for herself. In my gut, I knew that if she ever really did reach that final bottom, it would likely be the hole for her own grave.
I set her down gently in her bed, leaving the blankets off since I knew she’d just kick them off as she sweated out the drugs in her system. It was going to be a long fucking night.
Just another one to add to my list.
Chapter Twelve
Royal
My granddaddy insisted that he drive me to the hospital for work today. Said he couldn’t trust me since I left my date with Aaron early and didn’t come home last night.
After sleeping at Rogue’s guest house, I tried to sneak back home at the ass crack of dawn because I realized I’d left my stethoscope there. Maybe it was my subconscious’s way of telling me I needed to leave that job behind. I’d planned on quitting and figuring something else out, but that was before Mrs. Salvador overdosed.
Of course, Granddaddy saw me sneaking in and gave me the worst talking to of my life.
“You’re an ignorant child,” he’d said. “You’re worthless, and you’re a failure at your job. I can’t wait until this family is rid of you.”
I took the verbal beating—like I always did—and then let him drive me to work.
Like I was a child. Like I wasn’t responsible enough to drive myself.
The worst part of it all was that he was right. I wasn’t fit to be a nurse. I had blood staining my palms and guilt so intense it made it hard for me to breathe. I had zero passion for nursing, and in that profession, you had to have passion. All I had was regret, bitterness, and grief.
I had tried.
I tried really hard in the beginning. Some of the other students training to become nurses were on fire about it. The work was grueling, but they knew it was the right fit for them. They wanted to help people, to care for the sick and injured, to be the buffer between doctors and patients. I envied them of their drive.
My life would’ve been so much easier if I liked doing what I’d been forced to do. I’d faked it for a while, but it just wasn’t me. I wasn’t cut out for it, and everyone knew it. Unfortunately, Mrs. Almendarez had suffered the consequences of my inadequacy.
Now I was at another hospital, and my inadequacy was blindingly obvious. I was terrified of making another mistake, so much so that every time I had to come here, I gave myself an anxiety attack. Aaron had pulled some strings, making it so I had to work here a few days a week during his shifts, while still going over to Mrs. Salvador’s house to care for her. Just another way for him to punish me and flex his control over my life.
“Are you listening to anything I’m telling you?”
I blinked, clearing away the cobwe
bs in my mind, and focused on Tracy, the head nurse who was trying to talk to me.
“Sorry. I was distracted.”
Tracy’s lips pursed together. She had beautiful skin, dark and smooth, and a smile that people turned their heads to look at. Short, black hair, curves for days, Nurse Tracy made scrubs look good. “As soon as you’re here in my station, you don’t get to be distracted. You get distracted, and you make mistakes. You make mistakes, and that can mean you do something wrong. Wrong meds, wrong patients, wrong instincts. As soon as you walk in those doors, you leave those distractions at the door, got it?”
I nodded somberly. She didn’t have to tell me about the consequences. I breathed them every day. Working at this hospital was a constant reminder of my failure and mistakes. “Yes, ma’am,” I said, thoroughly chastised.
At least at my old station, they knew how unfit I was. I got stuck with grunt work. Cleaning bedpans. Changing dressings. Taking vitals. Doing sponge baths. It was grueling and hard, but at least people’s lives weren’t in the palm of my hand.
But now it was Mrs. Salvador that would be at risk. I had to talk to Luis and convince him to find someone else without telling him what I did in Ecuador. For some reason, the idea of Luis knowing about the tar tacked to my soul made me sick.
“Nurse Tracy, you aren’t giving Nurse Taylor a hard time now, are you?”
My spine stiffened at the sound of Aaron’s cheerful voice, and Tracy and I both turned to see him striding toward us down the hall. He had another young nurse walking beside him, but he passed her a file, and she walked off with a smile.
“Dr. Carmichael, how you doin’ today?” Tracy asked, her smile bright and ready.
“Just fine, and how are you ladies?”
I narrowed my eyes at the obvious southern drawl he was trying to imbue in his voice. The man was from New York.
“This one is qualified, but she seems a little slow,” Tracy told him.
I huffed at her, but to be fair, I’d had a hard time keeping up with her all day. The woman was a machine.
Aaron’s dark eyes twinkled with amusement. “I’m sure she’ll get the hang of it. Can I borrow her for a moment? We have a privately-hired patient we need to discuss.”
Wild: Savannah Heirs Page 12
