A series of thoughts go through my mind when I learn this. The first and foremost of these thoughts is Hell. To. The. Fucking. No.
My sister was kidnapped. Kidnapped. And then nearly three years later she turns up married? A pretty considerable part of my brain is assuming that this marriage was forced on her. The remaining part of my brain is dedicated to imagining brutal and painful ways of killing this Rebel guy without being arrested for murder. I’m a doctor. I have access to any number of substances that could be used in excessive amounts to cause irreparable damage to a human body. Or in the least I can think of a particular item in Zeth’s duffel bag that would go halfway to fixing the situation. While shooting Rebel with a Desert Eagle won’t undo the damage that’s already been done, it would definitely free Lexi from future torment. But my homicidal plans are brought to a halt when I meet the guy. He saw fit to leave the hospital when he learned that Lexi was still asleep, but he returns a couple of hours later, when we’re waiting for permission to go and see her.
Cade seems as on edge as I am. I can only imagine he’s worried about what Lexi’s gonna say to me if I get the chance to talk to her before Rebel can intimidate her into saying something she might not otherwise. However, his nerves only seem to grow when a tall, dark guy with arms full of tattoos saunters down the corridor towards us. Zeth is leaning against the wall opposite me, his own arms crossed and eyes fixed firmly on me as I watch the guy approach. Cade rubs his hands on his thighs, sucking in a deep breath.
“He’s left the other guys outside, doll. Just go easy on him, okay?” he says to me.
“Go easy on him? I’m gonna tear his fucking balls off.”
Zeth’s mouth curves into the most evil smile imaginable.
Cade on the other hand, doesn’t seem so amused. “Soph’s gon’ be pissed you at if you do that.”
“My sister’s name is Alexis. And this bastard’s probably brainwashed her, haven’t you, you fuck?”
The guy, arriving in front of me, reels back, eyebrows rocketing up his forehead. The most annoying thing about him, aside from the fact that he’s incredibly good looking in a rugged, bad boy kind of way, is that he has the gall to look shocked at my accusation. He gives me an irritated look. “The hell you talking about, woman?”
“I’m talking about you forcing my sister into doing…doing godknowswhat against her will. You do realize that a marriage isn’t legal unless it’s overseen by a state official, right?”
Rebel practically snorts. “Firstly, you’re wrong. Carnie got certified online; he married us back in New Mexico and we sent off the paperwork. Recognized by any court in America. And secondly, what the hell do you mean? Soph said you gave us her wholehearted blessing. She also said you were too busy being a fucking hotshot doctor to come to your own sister’s wedding.”
I’m shaking my head, screwing my eyes closed at that. “You’re such a fucking liar.”
Zeth snorts, eyes glinting with an outrageous level of mirth. I want to punch him in his face. “What, you think this is fucking funny?”
He shrugs, shoving off from his leaning post against the wall. “Not at all. I’ve just never heard you swear this much. Not even at me.”
If he thinks my language is bad right now, he should lock me in a room with this punk and see what I say to him then, with no innocent bystanders around to hear it.
“I’m not lying. I’m telling the truth. Not that I have any reason to justify myself to you, Dr Romera.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“What?”
“Dr Romera? You say it like you’ve swallowed something bad.”
“Oh, nothing. I just don’t get why you haven’t spoken to your sister in so fucking long. She needed you, y’know. And where were you, huh? Your fucking job’s been too important. Your fucking patients have been too important to leave, even for a goddamn weekend?” He’s getting mad, now. He hasn’t gone red like most people do when they get angry; he’s gone a pasty white that makes his frosty blue eyes seem even cooler.
I gasp, trying to catch a breath. I can’t believe him. Of all the messed up, delusional things to accuse me of. The guy’s lost his freaking mind. “You clearly need medication, mister.” I jab my finger into his chest, hoping it hurts him as much as it hurts my goddamn finger. “My sister was taken from her home and her loving family, and you bought her from a fucking pimp! Like she was fucking take out! You don’t get to lecture me on how much I care about my sister. I have been looking for her every single day since she went missing!” The finger stab wasn’t enough. I slam my palms into his chest, shoving him as hard as I can. I don’t even get to see how far Rebel—who the fuck is called Rebel, anyway?—staggers back. A solid band of muscle locks around my waist, and my feet are suddenly a clear six inches off the floor. Zeth’s voice is in my ear, dark and deep and hypnotic.