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I heard footsteps approaching and pushed myself away from the wall to open the door. Eric “Doc” McKenzie stood on the other side with his medical bag slung over his shoulder, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, and his short blond hair messy. He was young, as doctors went, but the fact that he’d lost his license for opioid and prescription abuse worked out to the MC’s advantage.
Now he was the resident MC physician, patching up our members and having connections to meds and scripts. And it worked out good. Real good.
I didn’t say anything, just stepped to the side as he focused on Poppy, who sat across the room.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath and glanced at me.
I could see speculation on his face, wondering if I was the one who’d roughed her up. I clenched my teeth and made a low, dangerous growl, daring him to say something, to accuse me. But he was smart, kept his eyes to the ground, and walked over to her. He crouched down on his haunches and set his bag beside him.
“Hey there,” he said softly and lifted his hand slowly, as if he were afraid she’d dart off.
She sat up straighter, pulled her shoulders back, and leveled him with a stoic expression.
Atta girl.
“I’m Eric and I won’t hurt you,” Doc said.
She looked between me and the doctor, and then at him once more. “I tried to tell him I was fine. It’s just a scrape.”
Doc made a deep sound in his throat and shook his head. He grabbed his bag and opened it up, pulling out supplies. Antiseptic, cream, and bandages, and finally a little bottle of pills.
“Nevertheless, it looks nasty, and I need to make sure you don’t have a concussion, depending on how hard you got knocked around.”
She shook her head slowly. “It wasn’t hard. The brick just scraped me up.”
“I can tell,” Doc said softly and doused a piece of gauze with what I assumed was peroxide. “Is this okay?”
I had my focus on Poppy the entire time, and when she looked at me from under her lashes, I felt my heart jerk in my chest.
She licked her lips and looked back at Doc. “Yes. That’s fine.”
For the next ten minutes, everyone was quiet as Doc worked on her. He cleaned up the scrapes, added some ointment, and put a bandage on the nastier part of the cut. Then he went through the process of seeing if she had a concussion. Shining a pin light in her eyes, asking her questions, the whole nine yards.
He packed up his stuff and stood, holding out a little brown bottle to her. “This is some pain medication. You can take it or don’t. But you’re going to be sore for the next few days.”
She shook her head and looked up at him. “I don’t need it. I’m fine.”
He nodded once and put the pills in his bag before turning and looking at me. “She’ll be fine. No concussion, and the cuts are only superficial.”
I made a gruff sound in the back of my throat and opened the door for Doc. And then we were left alone again, and all I wanted to do was go over to her and pull her into my arms, to make sure she was truly okay.
How fucking insane was this? I’d only met the girl just hours before, and already I felt this proprietary need to protect her.
She stood and I straightened, feeling tension in my shoulders, my spine like a steel pole up the center of my back.
“Thank you.”
I didn’t know what to say. Saying “you’re welcome” was foreign to me. I didn’t do pleasantries. That’s how much of a hardened bastard I was.
“Thank you for having your doctor look at me. But seriously, I’m fine.” She cleared her throat and looked away, and I could see she was nervous. I wanted to tell her she had nothing to be anxious about with me.
I nodded, although I wanted to say a hell of a lot more. But I wasn’t an idiot. She was freaked out, and if I pushed too hard, she’d run. So I stepped aside and opened the door, giving her a wide berth so she could leave, so she didn’t feel trapped.
She stood there for a second and looked at me, her throat working again as she swallowed. I could see how hard and fast her pulse was beating right below her ear. Her pupils were dilated, and I felt my anger continue to grow as I looked at her wounds again. It pissed me the fuck off and all I wanted to do was finish what I’d started out there with that asshole.
I wasn’t a stranger to killing a man, but I didn’t do it unjustly. If they crossed me, betrayed me, or if they hurt the ones I cared about… then all bets were off.
