Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
He briefly closed his eyes. That memory always brought him back to the present and reminded him that Snow wasn’t always right about what he needed. But handling him sometimes took more than kid gloves.
Lucas grabbed his water off the table and walked over to the bar. He set the glass down before wrapping his other hand firmly around the back of Snow’s warm neck. “Drink.”
“Fuck you,” Snow growled but some of the heat had left his voice.
Lucas continued to rub rigid muscles, his long fingers sliding through cool, silken hair, working away days of stress. Tension hummed through Snow’s frame, making him vibrate.
“Drink it.”
Snow sucked in a deep, steadying breath, his body growing still as if he were deciding whether to punch Lucas or drink the water. Lucas waited, having learned many years before that patience won out over anything else with his friend. His muscles tightened though, as he waited to see if Snow would shatter. When the doctor released a ragged breath and reached for the glass with a shaking hand, Lucas barely managed to hold back his sigh of relief. Snow took two long swallows and put the nearly empty glass back on the bar with a loud thunk.
His body still shook as he continued to stand stretched out like a man waiting for his forty lashes.
Lucas stepped closer, crowding him, letting his presence soothe him as he continued to rub his neck.
“What happened?”
“Ten year old. Three shots to the chest. He was drowning in his own fucking blood when he got to me.” His rough voice was a steadily growing rumble like a wall of snow and ice charging down the mountain.
“Dead?”
Snow gave a jerky shake of his head. “He was alive when I closed him, but it’ll be touch and go for a couple of weeks. He’s been sent on to Children’s.”
Lucas squeezed his fingers in Snow’s side. “He’s alive now. Focus on that.”
“Motherfucking bastards!” Snow’s shout was a good thing, his emotions finally getting a release instead of slowly suffocating under his skin until they bled through in violent actions he couldn’t take back. “Why can’t they just kill each other off and be fucking done with it? Every day there are more. And the victims are getting younger and younger.”
Gang violence had been bad during the past few years and Lucas had passed more than one night helping Snow after he patched up the innocent bystanders bleeding to death on his table. Lucas bit back the same words he longed to say every time he saw Snow suffering. Walk away. Find something else. Just walk away. But he said nothing because Snow would never stop. Under the layers of cold indifference he shared with most of the world, laid the most tender, battered heart Lucas had ever known.
“I should just quit. Let them burn themselves and everyone around them out.” Snow shoved away from the bar.
Lucas caught the wild, pained look in his friend’s eyes. Snow was desperate and lost, hurting more than he could process. Catching him behind the neck again, Lucas jerked Snow into his arms, holding him tight. The doctor stiffened, his arms out. Lucas waited for him to thrust him away before slugging him. To his shock, Snow wrapped his arms tightly around him, laying his forehead on Lucas’s shoulder.
“I’m so tired, Luc,” Snow whispered.
Closing his eyes, Lucas leaned his head against his friend’s, swallowing hard against the lump of frustration and pain clogging his throat. “I know.”
Despite his angry words and utter lack of people skills, Snow would never quit. Never walk away from someone who needed him. It wasn’t who he was. Being the man’s friend filled Lucas with pride, but it killed him to see the unrelenting wear on Snow. Lucas knew how to keep Snow moving, to keep him from completely self-destructing, but it was only a temporary fix. Snow needed something else—but Lucas hadn’t a clue as to what it was.
They stood, holding each other, as minutes ticked by. The busy nightclub and the rest of the world slipped away. It had always been that way for Lucas and Snow—from that first day when Lucas had expected a fight and instead earned a life-long friend. They knew each other’s secrets, fears, regrets, and dreams. As disappointment, betrayal, and heartache tried to tear them down, they’d remained strong—solid all these years.
A blast of music and cold air poured into the room as a shorter, stockier figure with a shock of auburn hair and shining green eyes strolled in. Lucas kept his hand on Snow’s shoulder even as Snow pulled away from him. Lucas needed the reassurance of closeness more.
“What’s up, guys?” Rowe’s mischievous grin changed his face as it always did into something more akin to wicked imp. He was rough and ready gorgeous with his coloring and his sturdy, muscled frame, but that smile gave him a sort of pretty edge he hated. Lucas personally loved it—Rowe had his own field of energy that made him stand out. Mostly when he whipped out that lethal grin.