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Page 187 of Forge of Darkness (The Kharkanas Trilogy 1)

"No," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Ma, please. It’s me. I promise you, it’s me.”

Suddenly she lunges for another item, a small glass bird trinket that twinkles in the harsh fluorescent light of the nursing home room.

With a wild yell, she throws it.

The tiny bird takes flight and crashes into Doc's forehead.

An audible crack echoes around the room as the glass shatters on impact.

I scream, instinctively moving to Doc's side. "Shit!"

Blood trickles from his brow, seeping down the side of his face as he winces in pain.

His green eyes are filled with a mix of shock and sorrow that makes my heart ache.

The sound of footsteps echo in the hallway outside before they burst through the door.

A nurse, her name tag reading 'Gloria', rushes into the room to see what all the commotion was about.

She pushes past me to get to Mrs. Nixon, her hands reaching out to calm her frantic flailing.

"Mrs. Nixon, you need to calm down!" Gloria shouts over the sound of her own heavy breathing, trying to wrestle the older woman's hands away from a ceramic lamp on the nightstand.

"It's not him, it's not him," she keeps repeating like a broken record, her eyes darting around the room in wild desperation.

"Mrs. Nixon, Darren is your son," Gloria tries to reason with her, looking over at Doc with an apologetic grimace.

Doc gives a brief nod of understanding, taking a step back from his mother's bed.

His face is a mask of control but I can see the pain flickering in his green eyes.

I rush over to him, pulling a tissue from my pocket and pressing it against his cut. "You're bleeding," I whisper, my hand shaking as I touch his warm skin.

"It’s fine," he murmurs back, his gaze meeting mine for a brief moment before shifting back toward his mother.

Before I can stop myself, I lean closer and press a kiss to his cheek, my lips barely brushing against his stubble. "I'm here for you, honey," I say, letting my hand rest on his chest.

His heartbeat is a steady thud beneath my palm.

His eyes snap back to mine, holding a depth of gratitude that takes my breath away. "I know, darlin',"

We both turn back toward the bed as Gloria finally manages to calm his mother down.

She's slumped over in her chair again, chest rising and falling heavily.

"All right Mrs. Nixon, let's get you back to your bed," Gloria suggests gently, her arms wrapping around his mother’s frail body.

Doc moves as if to help, but Gloria waves him off.

"It’s okay," she says in a voice heavy with exhaustion and a touch of sadness. "I think it's best if you two leave for now. Your mother isn’t having a great day, and the rest of your visit might not go well. It might be best to call her a couple of times."

He doesn't argue.

Instead, he gives his mom one last look. “Love ya, Ma. I’ll see ya next time.”

Doc and I leave his mother’s room and exit the long-term care facility.

We get outside and his rough, calloused hand grabs mine. “Thanks so much for comin’ with me, baby. You have no idea how much it means to me.”


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