“After the funeral, I didn’t know what to do with the list of names I’d had since the night he was killed. I kept thinking that Kyle would’ve been against me going on a killing spree because of him. If I did, if it turned me into someone else, well… I just didn’t know if it would make me feel better or worse.”
He rolled up one sleeve, running a finger down the intricate patterns adorning his forearm. “These tattoos, they were Kyle’s. He dabbled in art. Made these sketches but never had the chance to finish them. So I went to his tattoo artist and asked him to do them on me. I decided, if I still felt like going after those guys by the time the tats were done, I would do it. With the healing, it only took two weeks.”
Silence stretched on, and Dave peered into Doc’s eyes. “And? Did you still feel like it?”
The corner of Doc’s lips pulled up slowly as his eyes settled onto Dave with their strange, unblinking intensity. “More than ever.”
Had he any idea where to find the Commandos, Dave would’ve left that very second. The rising urge to go, to do something fought with his common sense, which told him to prepare, to draw it out, make sure they got what they deserved when he did come for whoever had started all this.
“Did you feel better when you were done with them?” Dave asked after a moment.
Doc shook his head with a humorless chuckle, peering at the amber liquid in his glass. “No. But I did make it a masterpiece.” He raised his glass in a mock toast. “When I was done, I felt like I’d just warmed up. So I found their gang and wiped it out, and then one more nearby. Took me weeks. One of them actually made it all the way to Baltimore…” Doc chuckled, toying with the whiskey bottle. “It was fun to watch the paranoia spread.”
“You are really bad at this,” Dave blurted.
Doc’s eyebrows flew up. “Excuse me?”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because,” Doc said, leaning close. “Because I was prepared for it, trained to kill, and it still ruined me. I don’t regret what I did. But it changed me, and I do wonder what would’ve happened had I chosen differently. These urges… They never go away. Once a killer, always a killer.”
“Everyone’s a killer here,” Dave said with a shrug.
Doc frowned and threw back the whiskey. “Not like that. They’re just soldiers. There’s a fine line between killing out of duty and butchering people for the sheer pleasure of it. Between reporting it to your boss and having cleanup take care of it, and chopping them to pieces to make sure no one finds the bodies. Just you. And your thoughts.”
“Don’t tell me Pain doesn’t enjoy what she does, because I’ve seen her work, and sometimes she’s just borderline crazy.”
“She doesn’t enjoy the killing—she enjoys the dance. And she dances right on that fine line. Some people just have a filter, a talent of sorts to ignore death. She’ll be fine, as long as there’s nothing personal. What you want to do is different. It’s more up my alley.”
“Doesn’t mean I’ll end up like you,” Dave snapped, staring Doc in the eye. “I have to do it. No one said I’ll enjoy it.”
“You will. Or you won’t be able to do it at all.”
Dave just stared at him, his jaws aching from clenching so tight.
“I promised Chad to wake him when you come around,” Doc said, pointing at the door.
Dave’s throat felt too tight to speak as he watched Doc cross the room.
Long after he was gone, Dave was still staring at the door, afraid to even blink, afraid to let the tears spill down his cheeks. He took small, stifled breaths, turning Doc’s words around in his head.
He didn’t have to decide now. He just had to make it through the day, to keep the emotions and memory at bay. The feeling of Elena’s dead body in his arms, the image of her pale, slack face.
Dave swallowed the lump in his throat as his gaze fell on the bottle Doc had left behind.
Chapter 13
Pain pried her eyes open, feeling as if she had just fallen asleep. The sky outside hadn’t even started to lighten, yet someone was knocking at the door, the sound too quiet to wake Chad.
She untangled herself from his arms with a sigh and slid off the bed, then hurried to the door, wrapping herself in one of Chad’s shirts with the efficiency of someone who’s gotten three hours of sleep and no rest.
“Whoa!” Doc spun away the moment she opened the door, making her look down and pull the shirt more tightly about herself.
“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” she grumbled. “What do you want?”
Doc peeked over his shoulder before turning back to her. “Dave’s come around. Looks like he’s going to be all right.”
She breathed out in relief.
“Someone should probably talk to him,” Doc added.
“You mean someone who’s not a raging lunatic?” She cocked her head, blinking the sleepiness away.
His eyes turned into slits. “Yes. So, obviously not you.”
“Um…” She looked over her shoulder at Chad, snoring softly in a tangle of blankets. He had stayed in the waiting room until she had found him passed out on the couch. “I don’t feel like waking him yet. I’ll just have to do for now.”
Doc arched a brow, but she ignored his skeptical look as
