Breaking Angel (House Phoenix Book 1) by Sonya Bateman

Author:Sonya Bateman [Bateman, Sonya]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: organized crime, vigilante justice, psychological noir conspiracy assassin urban street fighting mma fight bare knuckles secret society symbolism cults kidnapping rape punishment villain trope fast paced twist ending violence bloody gangs new york city, dark, Murder, vengeful, disturbing
Published: 2016-12-12T16:00:00+00:00

Doc sat at the desk in his office, a second bottle of Jack unopened in front of him. He hadn’t intended to drink them both tonight, but then, he hadn’t expected any of the fighters to arrive so early. Or so thoroughly broken.

In Gabriel’s case, broken was putting it mildly.

How long had the kid been here? Someone must have brought Gabriel in — no way he brought himself like that — when he’d gone to the liquor store. Which meant he’d sat here feeling sorry for himself, getting completely shitfaced, and the kid had been in the next room the whole time, damn near dead.

Some doctor he was.

A knock sounded at the door. He stowed the bottle in a drawer and opened up to Lucien, who was at least still on his feet.

“Hey, Doc.” Lucien flashed a tired smile and limped into the room. A few bruises stood out darkly against his paler-than-usual complexion, made ghostlike by his dyed black hair. “Got any of the good stuff left, or did you give it all to Angel?”

“Sit down and shut up.” He pointed to the bed. Slade didn’t want the details about the so-called deal he’d struck with Gabriel to get around, but that didn’t make it easier to keep from snapping at Lucien. The fighter’s ignorance allowed him to joke about Gabriel’s condition.

Doc enjoyed no such luxury.

“Damn. You’re touchy tonight.” Lucien crossed the floor and sat. “Sorry, man. I don’t mean to make light. They fed him to a Prometheus bruiser, did he tell you? Duke wiped the floor with his ass. Is he all right?”

“He’s unconscious.”

“Oh. Probably the best thing for him to be right now, huh?”

“Yeah. Right.” He avoided direct eye contact with Lucien, unwilling to let the fighter see his rage. He opened a cabinet. “How bad are you?”

“Leg hurts a bitch. Got a killer headache, too.”

Boo fucking hoo. He slammed the cabinet closed. Giving the fighters prescription drugs for a goddamned sore leg only encouraged more of this stupidity. He stalked to the desk, pulled the drawer open and grabbed the full bottle of Jack. “Here. Catch.” He tossed it to Lucien with a wry grin. “Dr. Stephens’ remedy for a killer headache. Knock yourself out.”

“Sweet! This’ll do.” Lucien stood and brushed his shirt smooth. “Thanks, Doc. Didn’t know you kept this kind of good stuff around.”

“I don’t. It’s just your lucky day.”

“Hell, yeah. You want a shot?”

“No. Just take it.” He moved around the desk. “Ice that leg down every few hours, and let me know if it gets worse.”

“Sure.” Lucien limped to the door. “Hey, Doc. Angel, he’s gonna be all right, isn’t he? I mean, Duke really worked him over. Dirty shit. Kicked him in the balls twice.”

A shudder went through him. He hadn’t known about that. “He’ll make it,” he said softly. The horrific vision of Gabriel dragging his shattered body across the floor renewed his shame, and his fury. The kid would come back from the grave for his sister, and Marcus Slade knew it.

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