fresh scrubs Butch had given him—so no more ladies’ night. And, as they’d sat down in front of the Dell in the exam room, the guy seemed honestly concerned about Payne and her welfare.
Not that they were getting anywhere on that front. The pair of them were staring at the computer screen like two dogs watching Animal Planet: very focused, but incapable of turning up the volume or changing the channel.
Ordinarily? Butch would phone or text Vishous. But that was not going to happen, given the showdown that was going on up at the Pit.
God, he hoped V and Jane got their act back together.
“So now what,” the surgeon asked.
Butch shook himself back into focus and put his palm on the mouse. “We pray I pull the security files out of my ass. That’s what.”
“And you were bitching about my towel.”
Butch cracked a smile. “Smart-ass.”
As if on cue, the two of them leaned in closer to the screen—like that was somehow going to magically help the mouse find the stuff they were looking for.
“I suck at this shit,” the surgeon muttered with disgust. “I’m better with my hands.”
“Me, too.”
“Go to the start menu.”
“I’m going, going. . . .”
“Shit,” they said together as they got a load of all the files or programs or whatever it was.
Naturally, there was nothing named “Security,” “Cameras,” or “Click here, dummy, to find what you two losers are looking for.”
“Wait, would it be under ‘videos’?” the surgeon said.
“Good idea.”
They both inched even closer, until the tips of their noses were all but polishing the damn monitor.
“Can I help you guys?”
Butch snapped his head around. “Thank God, Jane. Listen, we need to find the security camera’s digital files—” He stopped himself. “Are you okay?”
“Fine, fine.”
Uh-huh, right. Standing in the doorway, she wasn’t fine. Not even close to fine. To the point where he knew not to ask where V was—or expect the brother to show up anytime soon.
“Hey, Doc,” Butch said, as he casually got to his feet, “can I talk to you a sec?”
“Ah—”
He cut off the protest she was about to put up. “Thanks. Just outside in the corridor. Manello, you try and find your way around the comp.”
“I’ll get right on that,” the guy said drily.
When he and Jane were outside the room, Butch dropped his voice. “What’s going on? And yes, it’s none of my business. But I want to know anyway.”
After a moment, Jane crossed her arms over her white coat and just stared ahead. But not to shut him out, it seemed. More like she was replaying something in her mind.
“Talk to me,” he murmured.
“You know why he went for Manny, right?”
“Not the particulars. But . . . I can guess.” The female had been looking pretty suicidal, frankly.
“As a doctor, I get pulled in different directions. If you can extrapolate . . .”
Oh, God, it was worse than he’d thought. “I can. Shit.”
“That’s not all,” she continued. “When I went up to pack, I found a set of his leathers in the back of the closet. There’s black wax all over them. Along with blood and . . .” She took a shuddering breath. “Something else.”
“Christ,” Butch groaned.
As Jane went silent, he knew she didn’t want to put him in the middle and wasn’t going to ask out loud. But she was good like that.
Fucking hell . . . so much for honoring V’s stay-out-of-it demand. Except he just couldn’t watch the two of them fall apart.
“He didn’t cheat on you,” he said. “That night, a week ago? He let himself get beaten, Jane. By lessers. I found him surrounded by three of them and they were whipping him raw with chains.”
She let out a gasp, which she covered with her hands. “Oh . . . God . . .”
“I don’t know what you found of his, but he wasn’t with anyone else. He told me himself.”
“But what about the wax? And the . . .”
“Did it ever occur to you he might have done it himself.”
Jane was momentarily speechless. “No. Although why couldn’t he just say so.”
Wasn’t that the theme song of the night. “No guy wants to admit to his wife he was jacking off alone. It’s too pathetic—and he probably thought it was cheating in a way. He’s that devoted to you.”
As tears speared into Jane’s forest green eyes, Butch was momentarily nonplussed. The good doctor was as buttoned up as her hellren—and that reserved strength was why she was so damned useful as a doctor.