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“From now on you’ll use this.” Z handed over one with a blue hilt. “Calibrated for the left hand.”

John tried it out and felt even stronger. He was about to thank the Brother when he frowned. Z was looking at him with the same strange expression he’d had out in the gym.

John tucked the blade into the belt of his ji and signed, What? Am I not in good position?

Z rubbed a hand over his skull trim. “Ask me how many fighters are left-handed.”

John’s breath stopped, an odd feeling coming over him. How many?

“Only known one. Ask me who he was.”

Who was he?

“Darius. D was left-handed.”

John stared down at his left hand. His father.

“And you move like him,” Z murmured. “It’s eerie as fuck, to be honest. It’s like I’m looking at him.”

Really?

“Yeah, he was smooth. Like you are. Anyway. Whatever.” Z clapped him on the shoulder. “Lefty. Go figure.”

John watched the Brother leave, then looked at his palm again.

Not for the first time, he wondered what his father had looked like. Sounded like. Acted like. God, what he wouldn’t give for some information on the male.

Maybe someday he could ask Zsadist, although he was afraid of getting emotional.

A male should always be tight. Especially in front of a Brother.

Jane backed her car into her garage and cursed at the time as she cut the engine. Eleven thirty-four. She was two and a half hours late to meet V at her place.

It had been a prime case of delayed departure. She’d had her coat on and her bag packed, but on the way to the door all sorts of medical staff had come up to her with question after question. Then one of the patients had taken a turn for the worse in the chute, and she’d had to examine the woman, then talk to the family.

She’d texted Vishous that she’d gotten tied up. Then again when she had to stay even longer. He’d hit her back saying it was fine. But then she’d called when she’d gotten stuck on a detour on the way home, and she’d gone to voice mail.

She got out of the car as the garage door eased shut. She was excited to see Vishous, but exhausted too. They’d spent the night before doing a whole lot of not sleeping, and she’d had a long day.

As she came in through the kitchen she called out, “I’m so sorry I’m late.”

“It’s cool,” he said from the living room.

She walked around the corner…and stopped. Vishous was sitting on the couch in the dark, his legs crossed. His leather jacket was next to him, and so was a wrapped bunch of calla lilies. He was still as a frozen lake.

Shit.

“Hi,” she said as she dumped her coat and bag on her parents’ dining room table.

“Hey.” He uncrossed his thighs and planted his elbows on his knees. “Everything at the hospital okay?”

“Yeah. Just busy.” She sat down next to the flowers. “These are lovely.”

“Got them for you.”

“I’m really sorry—”

He stopped her with his hand. “You don’t have to be. I can imagine how it is.”

As she measured him, she knew he wasn’t trying to guilt her or anything; he was just disappointed. Which somehow made her feel worse. If he’d been unreasonable, that was one thing, but this quiet resignation from a man as powerful as him was hard to bear.

“You look tired,” he said. “I think the kindest thing I can do is put you in bed.”

She leaned back and gently stroked one of the flowers with her forefinger. She liked that he didn’t go average with roses or even the white kind of calla lily. These were a deep peach tone. Unusual. Beautiful. “I thought about you today. A lot.”

“Did you?” Though she wasn’t looking at him, she heard the smile in his voice. “What did you think about?”

“Everything. Nothing. How much I wish I were sleeping next to you every night.”

She didn’t tell him she’d turned down the Columbia opportunity. Letting that go didn’t sit right, but then, trying for a position in New York City where she’d have even more responsibility just didn’t seem like a smart thing to do if the goal was to spend more, not less, time with V. She still wanted to be in charge, but you had to sacrifice things in life to get