Surgeon – Chapter Twenty

**Minus the very first scene, this is a 100% brand new content chapter, so I hope you enjoy ❤

NOT EDITED

Chapter Twenty

Saturday: January 11, 2020

6:00 AM; MINNESOTA, THE SURGEON’S HOUSE, BASEMENT

“You’re going into surgery this evening, darling, so you only get breakfast today. Eat up,” he said, sliding a plate of food beneath Cleo’s cell door.

Cleo grabbed his wrist, her eyes locking with his warm, blue gaze. “H–how’s Brooke?”

For a moment, his gaze shifted to her hand, an almost loving look masking his face. “She’s fine, darling,” he said softly. “Healing. She’ll be back in here soon.” He lifted his free hand, cupping her cheek. She closed her eyes in an attempt to avoid flinching away from his touch. “You’ll be going under around six tonight.”

“What kind of surgery?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper as she forced her eyes open.

“A breast augmentation.” He gently pried her fingers off his wrist and rose to his feet. “Eat, and then get some rest. I will see you tonight, Lauren.”

7:00 PM; CLINSTONE, IVORY HILL

“Mister… Austen, if I remember correctly?” the bartender asked.

Bo cleared his throat. “Yes. That would be me.”

William smiled. “Thought so. What’re you havin’? On me.”

Bo’s brow furrowed suspiciously. “Why?”

“Consider it a complimentary drink on behalf of Clinstone.”

“Yeah?” Bo asked. “Does every new Clinstone resident get a free drink?”

“Just the cute ones.”

Bo laughed. The genuine shock factor of the comment made it a little hard to hide the sound like he usually did. “In that case, I’ll take a beer.” He waved a hand in William’s direction as he lifted himself onto an empty bar stool. “Dealer’s choice.”

William smiled. “Comin’ right up.”

9:30 PM; CLINSTONE, IVORY HILL

Bo was three beers past his ‘Kathy drank all the time and look what happened to her’ no booze rule and feeling… okay. His world hadn’t ended any more than it had been, anyway. That had to count for something.

“Are you planning on driving tonight, Bo?”

He lifted his eyes to William’s face. “We’ll see. I’m planning on switching to Coke anyway. The drink. Pop. Not the drug. And… actually another beer too.”

William snorted. “I getcha. One beer and a Coke — the drink — comin’ up.”

Bo finished off the rest of his beer and pushed it toward William as he came back to the counter. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” William crossed his arms over the bar. “Are you drinking away your demons or someone else’s?”

Bo raised a brow as he twisted off the cap on his pop bottle. “How would one drink away someone else’s demons?”

“You see other people’s demons at every crime scene you go to, and you’ve been… busy since you got here. I can’t imagine the shit you guys see, day in and day out. You’ve got a lot of demons in there that aren’t yours at all.”

“Ah.” Bo took a small sip of his pop. “The demons I work with are different than the ones I live with. I’m drinking for the ones I live with.”

“Things have been rough, huh?”

Bo couldn’t stop the slight narrow of his eyes. “Did Mason put you up to this?”

“Jake? No.” William uncrossed his arms long enough to flick Bo’s unopened beer bottle. “The therapy sessions come free with the booze.”

Bo snorted. “You must be quite bored.”

William shrugged one shoulder. “It’s a slow night. And you’re an interesting guy.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

William simply watched him for a moment, his expression neither concerned nor humored. It was just… there. Neutral. Soft. Present in the moment, seemingly without judgment. Bo could see how easy it would be for a drunken patron to unload their problems on the bartender without much thought or worry.

“Where’d you come in from? Where were you before Clinstone?” William asked.

“Los Angeles.” Bo scratched the side of his head before finally cracking open his fourth beer and taking a sip. “I’ve spent the majority of my life there. After this case is over, I’m heading back.”

“Wishing for sun instead of snow?”

Bo lifted his shoulders. “I’m not actually from LA. I grew up with actual winters, and out of the two, I’d rather be cold than hot.”

“Mm.” William raised a brow. “Then what’s in LA that’s not here?”

Bo weighed his choices for a moment. As it stood, William seemed unaware of Hangman and Kathy Baker and everything else that weighed Bo down. If he could keep it that way, he would for as long as he could. “My adoptive parents, mostly. My old job is waiting for me when I return, and at the LAPD, I already know where I stand with my coworkers. I struggle a bit more with that here.”

“Someone’s treating you like shit because of Anderson, huh?” William asked. “I’m guessing Gwen.”

“She has a history of this?”

William titled his head to the left, to the right, considering. “She ran the first replacement chief outta town pretty fast. She was engaged to Anderson when everything came to a head. It’s tough to recover from, living with a criminal.”

Bo couldn’t help but scoff. That piece of information, Jacob had left unsaid. Gwen and Bo were practically cut from the same cloth, yet she treated him like he was the killer instead of Dallas or Anderson. Like her, Bo was just… an oblivious bystander.

“Gwen lashes out at people who remind her of herself. I guess it’s hard not to, you know? It feels like being forced to watch history repeat itself.”

“Ah, so you do you know where I came from.”

William smiled. “A little. I didn’t want to force your past on you though.”

Bo chuckled softly, tilting his beer bottle back and forth between his hands. “It seems a bit like it follows me everywhere. Even when I try not to spring it on people, it seems to be sprung on me.”

“I’m sorry if it feels like I did that to you.”

Bo shook his head. “You didn’t. You… actually helped me understand Gwen a little better than any of the previous explanations and reasons I’ve been given. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Bo took a sip of his beer. “My old boss dropped in yesterday to tell me that Kathy Baker has cancer. I suppose that started the beginning of the… demons I’m trying to drink away.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure you’ve got some mixed feelings about it.”

“That is… an understatement.” Bo chuckled, shaking his head. “I used to look up to Kathy until I actually met her. I thought she was this genius detective, this unstoppable force. But the majority of what she’s known for has nothing to do with her and everything to do with Jamal Pitman. The only thing I’ve heard about Kathy that’s true is that she’s a bitch with a hell of a cruel streak. The rest of her fame or whatever you want to call it is built entirely on Jamal’s shoulders. She just takes all the credit for it.”

“And you had to deal with her firsthand.”

“For a very, very long time.”

“Why did your old boss stop by to tell you?”

“He believed I would be deeply affected by it and wanted me to hear it by him, in person, instead of over the phone or on the news.” Bo took another sip of his beer, which was quickly becoming a loose-lips elixir. “When Kathy and Dallas — Hangman — fled California, Jamal put me at the head of the investigation. I struggled… a lot with that, and when we finally caught them, I refused to testify initially. He believed that was because I was close to Kathy or because I still idolized her in some form.”

“But it was because you were close to Dallas.”

Bo snorted. “I was in love with Dallas.”

“Ouch.”

Bo couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, that about sums it up. I followed him everywhere I could up until the day he ran away with Kathy. I’m still… so angry. I would’ve helped him if I’d known. There’s no way he wasn’t aware of that, and he still…”

“He chose being a fugitive over choosing to tell you.”

“Wow. The therapy really is free with the booze, huh?”

William smiled. “What can I say? I’ve been doin’ this a long time.”

“Yeah? Talking to depressed nerds over their secret crushes on serial killers?”

William glanced up at the ceiling, one eyebrow raised. “Admittedly, that’s a new one. But I’ve heard stranger, believe me.”

“Mm. I’ll try to take your word for it.” Bo took a long drink of his beer. “Are you gay, William?”

“Very.” Bo’s response came in the form of a chuckle. “Are you?”

Bo shook his head, lifting the beer back to his lips. “I don’t know what the hell I am,” he said into the bottle before taking another sip. “I like… Dallas. And a woman named Bridget. She was my closest friend before Dallas came along. After he ran away and was arrested and after the trial… I don’t know. I suppose I dropped off the deep end a little. I couldn’t even begin to count the texts and calls she’s sent, the voicemails she’s left. And my parents. And the detective I worked with after Dallas left. My old lab partner. I haven’t been a good friend. Or a good son. I wouldn’t make a good partner, either, no matter what I am or who I like.”

William set his elbows on the counter, hands folded beneath his chin. “If they thought you were some horrible person, they wouldn’t keep trying to check in on you. They know you aren’t doing well, and they want you to know that they care. That if you need them, they’re just a call or a text away. People who are annoyed by you or irritated by you don’t keep reaching out when they get ignored, unless it’s to be an asshole about the fact that you ignored them. But your family and friends? They love you. Even if you aren’t able to be the best friend in the world right now. It sounds like they’ll still be around when you’re ready to be.”

Bo watched William for an absurdly long amount of time. There was nothing in his eyes or on his face to indicate he was being a facetious asshole. His words didn’t seem misplaced or malicious. They seemed oddly genuine. “I truly appreciate that, William.” He shook his head, turning to look toward the woman singing quietly in the back corner of the bar. “I came here with an entirely different intention tonight. I was going to get drunk and… carry it out. But by some… miraculous William Foreman intervention, I do believe you’ve saved a life tonight.” He turned back to the bartender. “Thank you.”

Something had changed in William’s face, but Bo couldn’t quite pinpoint it. His brow seemed slightly more furrowed or drawn, but what that meant, Bo wasn’t sure. “You’re welcome,” William whispered. “I’m so glad I was able to intervene.”

Bo nodded, eyes falling back to his beer. “Me too.”

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