Page 38 of Dark Surrender

In town, I park outside the coffee shop and use their Wi-Fi to search for a broad-spectrum antibiotic that might help Dark. Sure, it’s not foolproof, but I won’t take him to a hospital, and I refuse to let him die. So I gotta do whatever I gotta do, even if that means breaking a few more laws.

To bide my time, I drink tea at the coffee shop and order one to go for Dee. I have dinner at the sushi restaurant, where I make small talk with the owners. As soon as the streetlights come on, I have an hour before the local mom-and-pop pharmacy closes. When it does, I use the skills my father taught us to break a small window in the back, by the alley, to get in, find what I need, and get out. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.

I’m back to the cabin in record time, with a lantern I may have also stolen from the pharmacy. Shhh. You saw nothing.

Pointing a flashlight at the ground, Dee paces Dark’s room like a caged animal. As soon as I shut the door behind me to keep the critters out, she makes a break for it. The door swings roughly on its hinges, whining with abuse, before it slams shut.

Rolling my eyes at my sister’s dramatics, I unpack the bag of goodies I brought and do what I gotta do to get Dark better. Pressing a Tylenol, also stolen, and the antibiotic against his lips, I urge him to open up. Through swollen eye slits, Dark watches me as I tilt his head up to take the pills. Once they’re on his tongue, I offer him a sip of bottled water to wash them down. He chokes as he swallows but recovers quickly.

“Thank you,” he rasps as I return his head to the ground, and he promptly passes back out.

For hours, I watch him sleep. The shivers eventually dissipate, and his teeth stop chattering. The rise and fall of his chest brings me an odd sense of peace.

When my eyelids grow heavy, I redress his wounds with fresh bandages from the bag. Okay. So I stole more than I said. He needs it, and I’m not some good, well-mannered, law-abiding woman. Sure, I wrote an apology note to the pharmacy owners on a scrap of paper. It’s not their fault that I didn’t have a prescription and decided to go on a quick shopping spree when I was already there. At least I said I was sorry, and I mean it. I am sorry. I’ve been sorry about a lot of stuff lately. Not Harold or Penelope dying. That doesn’t bother me at all. At least I have that going for me.

Collecting Dark’s discarded bandages, I set the small pile outside the door to be burned later, once I’m comfortable leaving him. Until then, I prop my back against the wall close to him, in case he needs me, and stifle a yawn just as the sun begins to rise.

Catching a catnap should be okay.

Fifteen minutes.

That’s all I need.

A little… snooze.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Iris

“Iris!” The shrill of my sister’s scream rips me from my nap with a start, just as the door to Dark’s room is torn off its hinges.

The fingers wrapped around my ankle tighten as a massive silhouette of a man stands in the doorway, backlit by the sun, breathing hard, sucking all the oxygen out of the room.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” the man growls full of venom.

I pull my ankle from Dark’s grasp and tuck my legs under me, fists up, ready to fight. Even if I can’t do much, given his size, I’m a scrappy bitch. I’ll bite his nose off before I die. Maybe break a rib or two.

The pissed-off man steps into the room, and that’s when I get a good look at him. A well-groomed gray beard, muscles for days, covered in a layer of tattoos, and a leather vest that reads Sunshine on the chest. His angry, wrinkled-around-the-edges gaze that looks a whole lot like Dark’s locks on me.

“If you give me my fuckin’ son, there won’t be any problem between you and me. Got it?” He gestures among us. “But if you put up a fight, I don’t give a fuck if you’re a woman. That’s my kid.” The man juts his chin at Dark, who cracks open an eye.

“Pops?” he groans.

“Kid.” The man named Sunshine sighs in relief, and his shoulders relax.

“What the…” Dark rasps, squinting at his father. “Why… why are you here?”

“To save your sorry ass.”

“Just take care of him,” I plead, not letting my guard down for a second.

I don’t know this man. He doesn’t know me, but I’m not gonna stand between a man and his son.

“He’s my kid. Of course, I’m gonna fuckin’ take care of him.”

Nodding at the giant, who shares a scary resemblance to his son, I shuffle to the opposite side of the room, away from Dark, but I don’t give the biker my back.

No longer worried I’m gonna cause a problem, the anger bleeds from his face, and he gifts me a respectful up-nod before waving for another man to join him. A taller, wider biker with darker skin and a bald head steps into the room. He offers me a tight, almost apologetic smile as they stretch out a thick blanket they brought across the floor and maneuver Dark onto it. He groans in agony.