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The Ruthless Kings were lucky not to lose anyone. Besides almost losing Pocus, who was only saved thanks to the quick work of the shamans, Mama and Tory, we haven’t lost anyone in the last four years. When Anderson’s spirit attacked everyone else, he spared us so we would look like the culprits. Ultimately it backfired.
“You all know how sensitive this issue is for me,” Seer goes on. “My son is only four, but time moves quickly. I’d kill anyone who tried to recruit him into their gang at ten. But some of these kids aren’t so lucky and they’re being exploited. We have to be on our guard.”
Seer looks more burdened than I’ve seen him in a long time. His demeanor reminds me more and more of Pocus. Poor bastard. This new wave of young criminals is clearly bothering him immensely, more than he’s letting on to anyone else, maybe not even Pocus. I don’t blame him. If I had a young child, I’d be worried too.
“If you see a child out on the streets you think might be involved, you need to let me know immediately,” Seer says. “I’ll inform my contact. You need to walk away and avoid even the hint of fraternization. We don’t need the cops looking at us for this.”
The men bristle, offended at the idea they would stoop to such levels. I understand their frustration, but these are desperate times. Lately, it seems everyone is more willing to cross boundaries they claim they never would. Still, I’ve known these guys for years. I’d be very surprised to see them end up in that situation. Unfortunately, it can’t go without saying any more.
“Snake,” Seer addresses the MC’s resident tech. “I need you to monitor any online chatter about minor recruitment. These assholes are probably luring kids in with false advertising and coercion. Let’s cut them off at the knees.”
“Got it, Prez,” Snake answers readily.
“Bones, Knix, shake down anybody you see actively recruiting. We need to monitor where they’re getting their leads so we can shut it down.”
Bones and Knix nod, dutiful muscles who never need more instruction than that.
“The rest of you, business as usual.” Seer sighs, ready to get this meeting over. “Our numbers have been good lately, and I’m proud of the work we’re doing as an organization.”
Well, that’s something at least. The money comes in despite the fact the club members aren’t. That’s down to the fact that every man in this room would give his life to the club. Some of them almost have. I think back over the many times I’ve performed life-saving operations or emergency treatment for any number of these guys. I take pride in the fact I’m the reason some of them are still alive.
Seer calls church to a close. Those who didn’t greet me before come over to say a quick hello. Snake gives me an awkward handshake, ever the computer hacker with tentative people skills at best. Bones pulls me into a bone-crushing hug. I remind him that I can’t set his broken bones if I’m crushed to death. He laughs and releases me.
I’ve missed my brothers. It’s obvious when my chest starts to ache. I try to remind myself this promotion is good for all of us, but I’m not sure if I believe it. The money is good. I’m able to pour some of that back into the club, which I know Seer appreciates. Still, I question if this promotion isn’t a way for the administration to keep me under their thumb. They don’t officially know about my association with the MC, but they’ve always been suspicious of me.
Now that I’m a chief of surgery, it’s harder for me to get away with my moonlighting, and that’s what they prefer. Now I’m just another cog in the wheel. They know I can’t perform well in my job without sacrificing my time at the club. Bastards.
CHAPTERTWO
Pocus approaches me at the end of the meeting. He asks me if I can stop by his new house to check on little Daisy. He knows I can’t resist, even if I wanted to. My goddaughter is running a high fever. He and Abigail don’t know what to do to help her. They’ve given her all of the help they know how to give, but now they need a professional.
Pocus has been wary of doctors his whole life, especially because of the treatment he received as a child. I’m the only doctor in the world he trusts. I know Abigail feels the same. Neither one of them had an easy go of it. While I completely understand their hesitancy with doctors, I sometimes wish they’d take me up on my offers to see Daisy at the hospital. It would be easier to fit her into my schedule rather than make these extra house calls.
I used to be able to treat the guys at the main house, but I’ve had no time since my promotion. The makeshift clinic there has likely grown dusty in its disuse. If I wasn’t so damned tired, I might have stopped inside to assess how it looked. Likely, it’s become a free-for-all whenever someone is injured. Based on what I saw tonight, the men are helping themselves to the medical supplies.
Since Pocus and Abigail moved, though, they don’t have the same access. Though they’re technically just across the street, it’s a wide street with nearly a quarter mile of New Orleans Bayou in between. Pocus loves the area the MC is located. He jumped at the chance to snatch up a house nearby. Abigail became a real estate agent two years after Daisy was born and secured them a prime deal.
The privacy is good for them. With their ever-expanding family, the clubhouse has become way too small. They need a space of their own, which is understandable since they basically can’t keep their hands off of each other, even after seven years together. Honestly, it’s been to everyone’s benefit that they moved out.
I pull up to the large, plantation-style house with a huge wraparound porch covered with sharp furniture. Abigail’s touch, no doubt. In addition to selling homes, she’s discovered a talent for decorating them. I park my motorcycle in the long driveway and go up the steps. It’s only been a few months since I last visited the house. Already, I see Abigail has made several more improvements. It’s truly a sight to behold.
As I walk up the steps to their front door, I hear a faint crying from inside. Abigail answers the door with a look of exhaustion on her face.
“Hey, Graveyard,” she greets me, stepping aside to let me in. “Daisy’s been running a fever all day.”
I nod, following her to the living room. Pocus paces in the living room, waiting for me. I’ve never known him to be a patient man. Given the fact he only asked me over here ten minutes ago, I’d expect him to show a little more restraint. Then again, that’s never been Pocus. He’s always near a breakdown. Having a sick child really throws him over the edge.
“Thanks for coming over, brother,” he says quickly. “We’re trying to keep her comfortable.”
I’m not sure if her condition has worsened since I left the club meeting or if he’s worried about Abby’s current state. She doesn’t look great. The purple bags under her eyes concern me. She’s six months pregnant, and she’s overdoing it. If she’s not careful, I’ll have to order her on bedrest. Given Pocus’s already toxic levels of anxiety, that isn’t something I look forward to implementing.
Pocus leads me up the stairs to the grand bedroom he’s set up for his daughter. In stark contrast to the dark hues of the MC, her room looks like a unicorn threw up in it. It’s covered in bright pinks and soft purples. For a minute, I thank my lucky stars that I have no children yet. I don’t think I’d be able to sleep in a house with such a room. It sure is something.
I shake the thought away and move to the little girl’s bed. She’s shaking and coughing, looking absolutely miserable as she opens her eyes and looks at me blearily.
“Hi, Mr. Graveyard,” she rasps out in a miserable voice. “Please don’t give me any shots today.”
I laugh because that has unfortunately become our relationship. Daisy is prone to nasty infections, and I often have to give her shots of antibiotics to help her pull through. Given how sick Abby was when she was pregnant, I’m not surprised Daisy is just as sick as a child.
