Page 34 of Rampage

Lily

I clear my throat, looking around the room to stop the panic in my stomach at how intense all of this is.

I follow his gaze as he glances toward the dining area. For the first time, I notice a stack of thick textbooks piled on the table. Medical terminology jumps out at me from the spines—Gray's Anatomy. Principles of Pediatric Care. Neonatal and Infant Development. Next to them sits a white lab coat folded neatly, a stethoscope coiled on top.

"Are those yours?" I ask, setting my coffee down and moving toward the table.

Reid runs a hand through his hair, an unexpected nervousness in the gesture. "Yeah. I, uh… I should have mentioned it sooner."

I pick up one of the books, the weight substantial in my hands. Opening it reveals dense text, diagrams of the human body, highlighted passages, and notes in neat, precise handwriting.

"You're a doctor?" I can't keep the surprise from my voice as I look up at him.

He nods, joining me at the table. "Just finished medical school last month. I start my pediatric residency at County General in two days."

I stare at him, trying to reconcile this new information with everything I know about him—the leather vest, the motorcycle, the fierce protectiveness. "A pediatrician? You work with kids?"

"Not officially yet," he says, a hint of pride creeping into his voice. "But that's the plan. Three years of residency, then hopefully a fellowship in neonatal care."

"But…" I struggle to articulate my confusion. "The club? How does that work with being a doctor?"

Reid's expression softens. "The two aren't mutually exclusive, Lily. My father's best friend was the club doctor for twenty years. He's the one who inspired me to go to medical school."

I run my fingers over the embossed letters on the textbook cover, processing this revelation. "So all those times you weren't at the diner when I expected to see you…"

"Med school rotations," he confirms. "Twelve-hour shifts, sometimes longer. The club supported me through it all, covering my tuition, giving me time to study when I needed it."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask, not in an accusatory tone but genuinely curious.

He shrugs, looking almost shy. "Most people have certain expectations when they meet a Sinner. Doctor usually isn't one of them. I wanted you to get to know me first, before adding that complication."

I try to imagine Reid in scrubs instead of leather, a stethoscope around his neck instead of his club necklace. The image fits more easily than I would have expected.

I run my fingers along the stethoscope, the cool metal a stark contrast to the warmth of the morning. "Why pediatrics? Of all the specialties you could have chosen…"

Reid's expression shifts, something vulnerable flickering across his features. He takes a deep breath and leans against the table, his gaze fixed on some point beyond me.

"I wasn't born a Sinner," he says quietly. "Aiden, my dad, he's not my biological father."

I set down the stethoscope, sensing the weight of what's coming.

"My dad has kept a ton of the details from me. I was a small baby, and I do know that I was saved from a horrible fate by him and then my mom came later.

"Leah, my sister, was older when my parents adopted her. She is older than me and she had a rough go of it until they took her in. She remembers a ton of her life before, but my parents put her in therapy and that helped her."

His family seems to be utterly amazing, “You’re going to be an amazing doctor.”

His smile is heartachingly beautiful, I love that look on him. I’m proud of him and his parents for making sure that he had a good life.

"Thanks," he says, a hint of bashfulness in his expression that contrasts with his usual confidence. "I've wanted to help kids since I was old enough to understand what happened to me. What happened to my sister, and Aubree was adopted too when she was two.”

You wouldn’t think they were adopted because they all look so alike, it’s fate for them to be siblings.

I reach out, touching his arm lightly. "I think it's incredible. All of it—the club, medical school, everything."

He covers my hand with his, squeezing gently. "It's important to me that you know this side of me too. The Sinners are my family, my blood. But medicine is my calling."

The complexity of this man strikes me anew. Reid isn't just the protective biker who made me feel safe on the back of his motorcycle. He's also a healer, someone who's dedicated years of his life to learning how to care for the most vulnerable.

---