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She flinches and looks toward Ink, hoping he'll defend her, but instead, he shakes his head at her. "You know that, Soph, I love you, baby. I do so much, but you're in the wrong here, and you know it. You're trying to defend someone who, moments ago, you were pissed at, wanting to attack, and now arguing with your best friend over her. The sweet butts want a patched brother because of the lavish lifestyle our old ladies don't give a shit about. This isn't on Slicer because before you came on the scene, I spent years fucking Clitter too."
Sophie flinches and swallows hard. "She helped me."
I nod. "Yeah, she did all while pushing your friendship with Leah aside, and you let it. The only reason why the club hasn’t tossed her out on her ass is that she did help you through that time and your Ink's woman, your family, but know this Soph, she stays then I go and if I don’t get my woman back then I’m handing in my patch."
The brothers are all tense, and her eyes widen as my dad grips my shoulder.
Axel steps forward and says, "Maybe it's time we had a meeting about removing the sweet butts and hiring a company for our cleaning and cooking needs.”
The sweet butt's eyes widen while Clitter winces, realizing she fucked up big time, but I don't give a shit.
I shake off my dad’s hand and ignore them all before heading to the backdoor, heading home where I can hopefully get my girl to answer my calls.
As I walk out I can hear my mother sneer in anger before Cammy agrees, her nickname coming in full force, “If you fuckers have ruined any chance of a relationship with my granddaughter then I’ll fucking burn this building to the ground,”
“yeah, what she fucking said dickheads.”
Dammit, the bulldogs a-fucking-wake and we’re all doomed.
Chapter 18
Meghan
I quickly rounded the corner in the hospital. It's been five days since the disaster at the clubhouse, and I have done everything in my power to dodge Mel since returning to work yesterday. After the horror, I decided to take my girl away for a few days. I texted Noah, letting him know we'd be back in a few days before turning my phone off, packing my car, and off we went into Houston itself, staying in a motel while sightseeing.
We visited the zoo, the aquarium, the children's museum, and the nature center, and we both had a blast. My bank account didn't, though, but oh well, you only live once, right? Plus, it helped us forget the disastrous day we had at the clubhouse. I tried to erase it from my girl's memory to make new ones, and you cannot put a price on that.
I haven't turned my phone back on just yet, not ready to face the real world, which is why I'm currently avoiding Mel. When I look around the corner again, I see she's finally gone, and I come out of my hiding spot, heading to my next patient's room.
I pick up the clipboard and quickly give it a once-over before I have to swallow my tongue.
Eddy Cleavland
89-years-old
requesting a vasectomy because his new girlfriend wants a baby.
What in the fresh hell?
I clear my throat and try to get my bearings so I don't swallow my tongue in front of the patient. A vasectomy, though, really, he's 89; shouldn't he already be sterile?
I look around to see if it's a joke, and someone is about to jump out and laugh at me, but nobody does.
Damn.
I clear my throat again and nod. I can do this; I can be professional.
I square my shoulders and knock once before entering the room, looking at the clipboard, not ready to face the patient because, yeah, wow, no words.
"Good morning, Mr. Cleavland. My name is Melanie Campbell, and I believe you are here to discuss a vasectomy."
"You were right, Doc; she is a professional."
My head snaps up to see several men in cuts standing around while Doc smirks, and I sigh in relief, taking a moment as my shoulders sag before the men start to laugh.
"Seriously, Meg, that was really good."
I shake my head and point at Doc. "Not cool, Dr. Thomas. I thought I was going to stop breathing with this one."
