Page 89 of Sinner's Malice
“That’s what they say.”
“But that’s just it, Silver. I don’t remember her. At all. I can account for every woman I’ve ever been with. But when I think of her, look at her picture, I get nothing. Zilch.”
“Well, from what I hear, you were drunk a lot back then. Maybe you blacked her out. Wouldn’t blame you either. Bitch is a fucking piece of work.”
Bane sighed, sitting back in his chair as he shook his head. “It’s possible, but unlikely. I know I drink too much and maybeI am an alcoholic, but I can still account for my actions. All of them.”
“Maybe you missed something.”
“Possible, but also unlikely. As a doctor, I am trained to remember everything. Patients’ lives depend on my ability to remember.”
“Bane,” I said. “You are human. Not Superman. So what if you forgot about the bitch? Consider it a blessing and move on.”
“That’s just it, Silver. I can’t. My brain won’t let me. Plus, my gut is telling me that the club records are wrong. Iris Hughes may have been one of Barney’s girls, and she may have been a club piece, but I never came in contact with her.”
“Okay, say you are right. Then you dodged a bullet. I don’t see what the problem is.”
“The problem is, if I’m right, then the club records are wrong, and if they are wrong about me, then what else do they have wrong?”
The doc had a point.
“Then you need to have this conversation with Mercy. He controls the club records.”
Bane shook his head. “I already did. Asshole doesn’t believe me.”
“Bane, when was the last time you had something to drink?”
He looked at me and clearly said, “The day you and I got drunk in my office.”
“That was three days ago.”
He slowly nodded.
“And you’ve been sober ever since?”
He nodded again.
“And you are absolutely sure about Iris?”
“I’d bet my medical license on it.”
Sighing, I closed my book. “Then we need to wake up Pippen.”
“We do that, and Montana will have our asses.”
“You scared of Montana?” I challenged.
“Fuck no.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“If I’m right, then I will have to tell him. More specifically, how I found out. He could take my brand, and before you say anything snarky, I may fight with the asshole and hate this club, but they are all I have left. Without that bastard and this fucked-up club, I have no one.”
We found Pippen snoring up a storm in his new office while computers blinked, buzzed, and beeped all around. The intern had taken over Shame’s old office and responsibilities after Layla, Giovanni Valentinetti’s wife snuck into the clubhouse and did the world and the club a huge favor by killing George Stone.
“Remind me to schedule him for surgery. Boy snores like an Albanian field wench.”
Ignoring Bane, I walked over to the chair the intern was sleeping in and kicked the chair, waking him instantly.