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“You okay?” I asked as Sally, my new nurse, as she came out of a room, looking a little greener than when she’d gone in.
“His toe,” she said, gulping hard like she was fighting the urge to vomit.
My gaze went to the board.
All that was listed was toe pain.
“Is it… hanging off or something?” I asked.
“No. It’s… it’s so infected,” she said. “Like stinky and weeping.”
Which probably meant he’d gone without proper treatment for a solid week, if not longer. It didn’t make me hopeful for his chances of keeping the damn thing attached.
“I’ll take care of it,” I assured her. “Go get some fresh air out back.”
I had to admit, festering wounds took a strong stomach. I’d known some doctors who struggled with them even after being in practice a long time.
I had the unique advantage of having to take care of wounds a lot growing up, so by the time I got into medical school, I was hardened to it.
I had just finished with that patient—who I’d all but begged to go to the hospital—and was walking into the next exam room, when something slammed down on the back of my head.
And all I knew for a while was darkness.
CHAPTER TWO
Seeley
“The fuck is he doing?” Cato asked, eyeing the van whose doors hadn’t opened yet.
It wasn’t normal to do a drop with just one patched member and two prospects, but Huck decided that since Cato and Levee had endured a sort of ‘out of the frying pan and into the fire’ initiation with them both getting shot to varying degrees of seriousness, that they were experienced enough to have my back.
Their patches were all but formalities at this point anyway. Things had just been too crazy to get that all over with. Both professionally and personally for the older guys who had been reproducing like rabbits in heat.
There was a definite sort of split in the club now, between the OG guys who found their women and settled down, and the rest of us. Who just weren’t in that place yet.
Huck, Che, McCoy, and Remy were around, of course, but not as big of a presence as they’d once been.
Which meant it was mostly all us single guys around all the time. Me, Cato, Levee, Alaric, and Donovan. Eddie, of course, was always around as well. And Teddy made his usual appearances.
Those guys were exactly who we were late to meet back on the town in Miami thanks to this fucker in the van who wouldn’t come out and get his damn guns.
“It’s only ten guns, for fuck’s sake,” Levee said, rolling his head, his mind probably on finding some woman to spend the night with.
There’d been a lot of work and not a lot of play going on lately. Between the renovations at the clubhouse, getting shipments, doing drops, and the constant battle to stay on top of all the local established and up-and-coming organizations in the area who might prove a threat, yeah, we hadn’t had time to get a good night of sleep, let alone have some fun and let loose.
But this was the last drop for the club for a solid week and a half.
We just wanted it fucking over with.
“Anyone else getting suspicious?” Cato asked, looking at me.
Suspicious? No.
Irritated that he was wasting our time? Absolutely.
“You to the passenger,” I told Cato. “I’ll take the driver. Levee, stay here in case we need backup,” I instructed, reaching for my gun as Cato and Levee did the same.
It was interesting having them back.
