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We take care of our own shit.
“I’m sure I will. Lucky for me, I know a doctor.”
He shakes his head, his gaze finding mine, and levels me. He’s in doctor mode and not brother mode at the moment. I take him for all his seriousness and watch him for a moment. He clears his throat before he speaks.
“You could have died. Just keep that in mind when you go to do whatever the fuck it is you’re going to do.”
My lips twitch into a smirk. “You mean get my woman back?” I ask. “It’s been days.”
“They’re trying not to start a whole war,” he murmurs.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I try not to lose my shit, mainly because none of this shit is the doc’s fault. I’m pissed at Atomic. He’s supposed to have my back, have my woman’s back, and he doesn’t have her after days of the Nomad Kings taking her right out of her own home.
I don’t give a fuck what kind of excuses he’s giving. I am not just going to accept any of them. And war? The Nomads started this shit. Not me, not us—them. But I’ll tell you what. I’m going to end this shit, then, as I promised, I’m sending that whole fucking club sky fucking high.
“So, am I good?” I demand.
Doc shakes his head. “No, but I’ll release you. Try not to get into anything physical. I still don’t fucking agree with this shit, but I know you’ll just walk out even if I don’t release your ass,” he mutters.
He’s right. I absolutely will.
The door opens a few moments later, and I’m glad to see Strings standing in front of me, a bag of my clothes in his hand.
“The bitch is waiting for you.”
I almost ask him which one, but I know who he’s referring to, and it isn’t the bitch I can’t get off my mind. It’s the one I want to forget ever existed. My woman’s fucking sister. What are the goddamn odds of that? Any other time, I would think it was hot fucking both sisters. I would probably try to get them to fuck me together, but not in this instance.
Standing, I try not to wince at the pain in my side from the still-healing knife wound. I walk over to him and take the bag, then go into the bathroom to change. It takes me a hell of a lot longer than it should to put on my clothes.
When I’m ready, I make my way back into the room but then realize I can’t put my boots on by myself. But I’m also not about to ask Strings to help me. Thankfully, I don’t have to because he jerks his chin toward the sofa, and I sink down as he helps me with my boots.
“This is bullshit,” I grunt.
He chuckles. “It is, but I remember what it was like.”
I’d forgotten that he was stabbed about a year ago himself. He really does know exactly how the fuck this feels. When he’s finished lacing up my boots, he helps me stand to my feet, then frowns as he watches me.
“You should really rest,” he murmurs.
“Apparently, nobody else is getting my woman. I’ll rest after I have her safely at my side.”
He nods his head. “There’s a reason. When Poison started talking, I think that’s what caused Atomic to halt.”
I couldn’t give a fuck less. Honest to God, I do not give a fuck what Poison or Atomic or anyone has to say. The reason could be the best fucking one on the planet, and I still would not give a flying fuck. Not a single one.
“Then we go get your woman,” he murmurs. “But after you talk to Atomic.”
Everything inside of me screams to go and get Shawn before I even think about discussing a goddamn thing with anyone else. But as loyal as I am to her and our relationship, the club comes first, as much as I don’t want it to.
“Let’s get this shit done,” I grind out.
Together, we walk out of the room, even though every goddamn step hurts worse than the last. I see Doc standing with a nurse as I make my way down the hall. He leaves her and jogs up to me.
“Take these,” he murmurs, slipping a pill bottle into my hand. “Just don’t drive on them, but they’re going to help your pain. Maybe smoke a blunt, too.”
Chuckling, I groan at the pain, then jerk my chin toward him. “Doctor’s orders?” I ask.
“Yeah, doctor’s fuckin’ orders.”
