Page 67 of The Doctor

What’s right?

I turned my attention to Zee and found him watching the two of us. And while that scritching, scratching monster in the back of my head roared to life again, this time, it felt like there was a reason for it.

One I couldn’t ignore.

“Tell me about my grandfather,” I said to Nadia, giving her a gentle smile. “What was our world like back then?”

23

Zeno

There was a fourth level to my house that no one really knew about. It was sparsely furnished and rarely used, but it was my favorite room in the entire place. A skylight shone down on the old bed, and my favorite leather chair sat to the far side of the small room. The low ceilings made standing up straight impossible, but there was plenty of space for storage, and plenty of privacy when I needed to get away.

That need had never been greater than it was after coming home from Nadia’s. From reliving our tragic shared past, to hearing the horrors of her life since she was forced to marry, to watching Clara and Mic flirt every chance they got, I was no longer functioning at my highest capacity.

I needed an escape. I needed relief the way Clara had needed that pill in the middle of the airport. Her anxiety presented itself in ways different from mine.

And our treatments were vastly different.

Instead of a pill, my medicine came in the form of a tightly rolled blunt.

While she took hers with little more than a mouthful of water, mine left a haze of smoke hanging over the room.

They may have come in different forms, but they worked much the same way, relaxing our bodies and minds and helping to wash the anxiety away.

So while Clara slept nearly naked in my bed, I took refuge in my attic, surrounded by boxes of medical supplies, old books, and smoke. With my feet up and my head against the back of the chair, I let the marijuana work through me, calming my mind and trying to turn off my jealousy.

Mic was Clara’s age, nearly twenty years younger than me. He was a nice kid. Someone not immune to the ways of the Syndicate and the rights and responsibilities that came with being from this world. He’d be a good match for her, was clearly smitten with her…

But she was mine.

My need to possess her had never been greater than when the kid had taken her hand and brought it to his lips. I had the unrealistic desire to rip out his throat with my bare hand in an effort to stem his smooth-talking ways.

My obsession only strengthened throughout the day. When I’d found them holding hands on the couch after he’d gotten faint. When she kept touching his arm while I suffered through our early dinner.

As the two made plans for next week, when Clara promised to take him to campus to show him around the city.

Fuck.

I never imagined having Clara move on would hurt so fucking much.

And I hated myself for every minute in the past I’d wished I could let her go.

After taking a long drag from my blunt, I reached for my ashtray but knocked over my decanter instead. I let out a curse, jumping from my chair to rescue my whiskey before it spilled all over the floor.

Only to dump half the bottle down the front of my pants.

I sucked on the blunt as I shucked my pants, then wiped up the spilled liquid and tossed the pile of wet cloth onto the floor near the steps. But I was half-tempted to leave it. To give up on the whole ordeal and climb onto the bed. I couldn’t return to my bedroom. Not with Clara sleeping in my space.

Not with the heavy desire still pulsing through my veins.

Plopping back in my chair, I’d barely put my feet back up before I heard the stairs creak.

“Zeno? Are you up here?”

A groan tumbled from my throat before I could stop it. Through the dim light shining through the skylight, I could see Clara’s gaze dance my way.

“What are you doing up here?”