He was an addict.

Dr. Wells started, “It’s not—”

“He has a right to refuse service.” He turned to Trevor. “For the record, I’m not sure I agree with you, but you have that right.”

This time Trevor’s gaze lingered on Simon a little longer. Simon took in the different shades of blue there, how they were darker toward the pupil but got lighter around the edges. Thank you, they seemed to say, and Simon gave the man a quick nod.

Dr. Wells sighed but he didn’t argue with them anymore.

Simon watched, and quietly critiqued, as Dr. Wells sewed Trevor’s meaty palm back together. His hands itched to do that, to take part of a broken human and put it back together again.

But he wouldn’t be able to do it. That’s what he had to accept. Doctor or not, he would never be able to perform surgery again.

CHAPTER THREE

They’d been silent the whole way back to the doctor’s house. Trevor’s hand throbbed, pain shooting up his wrist and into his arm. Every bump they hit on the road, he winced but didn’t speak.

The doctor knew. He had to. Why else would Trevor have refused pain medicine? Which meant he would worry about Trevor’s stability. Questions about Trevor led to questions about Rock Solid. That meant they wouldn’t land this job. Andrea and JT would likely be out of work for a while, and Blake would have been right about what Trevor now knew.

Blake should have gone himself.

Even when he wasn’t using, Trevor still fucked things up.

“This won’t affect the job we can do. I promise you that. We work hard and we get the job done,” he said when they pulled into the doctor’s driveway.

“Thank you for letting me know.” He killed the engine and they got out. Other than the fact that he felt like his hand would fall off, there was no reason Trevor couldn’t drive. He retold the doctor everything he’d said earlier about quotes, drawing up plans and getting back to him. Without the doctor saying so, he knew it was useless.

Trevor wanted nothing more than to drive to the small house he shared with his brother, climb into bed and pretend the whole day didn’t happen, but he didn’t. Sleeping the day away wouldn’t help. He was responsible now, and regardless of what he wanted, he needed to go see Blake and let him know what had gone down.

He pulled up to the library. His brother took one look at him and his eyebrows pinched together in worry. He could always read Trevor like a book. Trevor was the same way with Blake. It wasn’t until his eyes scanned down Trevor’s body and landed on his hand that he pulled his hard hat off and walked Trevor’s way.

“What happened to you?” he pointed to Trevor’s hand.

“I cut it. It’s not a big deal. It’s going to be a good job for us. He wants some pretty heavy remodeling done. It’ll keep us busy for a few months. I told him I’d sit down with you and we’d get him some more information within the next couple days.”

“Great. Sounds good. It went well, then?”

“Yeah,” Trevor lied. He hated doing it but he didn’t have it in him to go there with Blake right now.

“What about the hand? How long are you out? That’s going to factor in. Plus, it’ll take us a little longer to finish here—”

“It’ll be fine. I’ll be fine,” Trevor lied again. His hand would hurt like a bitch but he would deal with it. He would work. “It’s not that bad. I’m going to have to take today off, though.”

“Yeah, sure. Of course.” Blake’s eyes stared into Trevor’s. He always did that when he wanted to try and figure out what Trevor was thinking or if he was telling the truth. The bastard knew him too well. Trevor diverted his eyes, and felt like an ass while doing it.

“I’m going to head out. You guys will be okay today?”

“Yep. We got this. Go home and get some rest,” Blake replied. Trevor made it all the way to his truck before Blake called out to him. “Trev?”

The question was there without his brother having asked it. He let out a heavy breath and turned. “We’re all good, little brother. I denied the prescription and wouldn’t take anything at the hospital, either.”

“I’m sorry.” Blake hated to ask, Trevor knew that. It didn’t make it any easier to swallow. It was bullshit that he had to ask, but that was no one’s fault except Trevor’s.

“I know. See you at home tonight.” Trevor climbed into his truck and drove away.

***

Simon held the scalpel in his hand. Tried to tighten his hold on it the way he should. Not too tightly, but with the right amount of pressure so he could keep it steady and cut with a gentle, skilled hand.