Not this time, a voice inside of him warned. Not this time...
A roar of panic flared, and he started to pray for Lash to live. Then he prayed for time to go backward. Then he wished for this to be a dream...
Someone was standing over him and saying his name.
"John?" He looked up. It was Doc Jane, the Brotherhood 's private physician, and Vishous's shellan. Her translucent, ghostly face was calm, her voice even and soothing. As she knelt down, she became as solid as he was. "John, I need you to step back so I can get a look at him, okay? I want you to let go and step back. You've done a good job, but I need to take care of him now."
He nodded. But even still, she had to touch his hands to get him to release his hold on his shirt.
Someone picked him up off his knees. Blay. Yeah, it was Blay. He could tell by the guy's aftershave. Jump by Joop!
There were a lot of other people in the locker room. Rhage was just inside the shower, and next to him was V. Butch was there.
Qhuinn... where was Qhuinn?
John looked around and found him across the way. The bloody knife was gone from his hand, and Zsadist was next to the guy, looming.
Qhuinn was paler than the white tile, his mismatched eyes unblinking as he stared at Lash.
"You're under house arrest at your parents'," Zsadist said to Qhuinn. "If he dies, you're up for murder."
Rhage went over to Qhuinn, as if thinking that Z's hard tone wasn't helping the sitch. "Come on, son, let's get your stuff from your locker."
Rhage was the one who led Qhuinn out of the locker room, and Blay followed them.
John stayed right where he was. Please let Lash live, he thought. Please...
Man, he didn't like the way Doc Jane kept shaking her head as she worked on the guy, her doctor's bag cracked open, instruments flying as she tried to stitch up Lash's neck.
"Tell me."
John jumped and turned his head. It was Z.
"Tell me how it happened, John."
John looked back down at Lash and replayed the scene. Oh, Jesus... he didn't want to go into the whys. Even though Zsadist knew about his past, he couldn't bring himself to tell the Brother the reason Qhuinn had hard-cored it.
Maybe it was because he still couldn't believe his past had come out like that. Maybe it was because the old nightmare had just been renewed.
Maybe it was because he was a pussy who couldn't man up for his friends.
Z's deformed lip tightened. "Listen, John, Qhuinn's in deep shit. Legally he's still a minor, but that's assault with a deadly against a first son. The family is going to come gunning for him even if Lash survives, and we're going to need to know what happened here."
Doc Jane stood up. "He's closed, but he's at risk for stroke. I want him to go to Havers's. Stat."
Z nodded and called forward two doggen, who had a gurney between them. "Fritz is ready with the car, and I'll be going with them."
As Lash was lifted up off the tile, the Brother pegged John with grim eyes. "You want to save your friend, you're going to need to tell us what went down."
John watched the group roll Lash out of the locker room.
As the door eased shut, his knees wobbled, and he looked at the pool of blood in the center of the shower.
Over in the corner of the locker room, there was a hose that was used for the daily cleaning of the facilities. John forced his feet to go across to where the thing was mounted on the wall. Uncoiling it, he turned the water on, pulled the head over into the shower, then twisted the nozzle open. He swept the spray back and forth, back and forth, moving inch by inch, chasing the blood away toward the drain, where it was swallowed with a gurgle.
Back and forth. Back and forth.
The tile went from red to pink to white. But it didn't clean up the mess. Not in the fucking slightest.
Chapter Thirteen
Phury felt hands on his skin, small, light- fingered hands, and they were traveling down his belly. They were headed for the juncture of his thighs, and thank God for that. His arousal was swollen and hot and hungry God for that. His arousal was swollen and hot and hungry for release, and the closer the hands got to