Page 16 of Healed By Doc
“Heard you had a sleepover. Who is she, Doc?” he teases when I step into the room.
“That’s none of your fucking business,” I say, walking over and removing the bloody cloth he’s holding to his injured hand. I assess the size and depth of the wound, humming when I realize it’s a superficial injury. Probably hurts like a motherfucker, but the bullet simply grazed his hand, causing a laceration that, while bloody and painful, should heal fairly quickly. “What the hell were you playing with?”
He grins. “A 1911. She’s a beauty. One of the new prospects just bought her, and she packs a hell of a punch.” He watches as I organize the tools I’ll need on Saint’s desk before slapping on some gloves. “I pity the poor bastard that ends up on the other end of the barrel.”
“That poor bastard was you,” I say, grabbing a syringe to irrigate the area. “You are lucky you didn’t shoot your ugly mug.”
Saint laughs from the door. “I guess you’ve got a handle on this. I’ll go assure the others that it’s nothing serious.”
The door shuts with a click, but I barely notice it as I focus on my work. “So, where the hell were you?” Trigger asks aftera moment. “It’s not like you to spend the night away from the club.”
“What are you, my mother?”
“Fuck off.”
I smirk, letting him stew on it for a bit. Among my MC brothers, I am the closest to Trigger. Heck, he’s the reason I joined the Steel Rebels in the first place. Just a few years ago, I was treating him after he got into a fight with another prisoner. We were cellmates for the last three years of my sentence. He never talks about what led to him getting arrested, but in all fairness, no one ever does. Talking about it while incarcerated somehow makes it real and reminds you what kind of a horrible human being you actually are.
But we got out. Me sooner than him.
“I found her.”
I don’t need to elaborate who I’m talking about. There’s only one female in my life I’ve ever told him about and it’s the one whose words sent me to jail.
“Where?”
“At the woman’s shelter,” I say, numbing his injury so I can begin suturing it. “She works there.”
Trigger is quiet for a beat before it finally clicks where I’d been all night. “Doc, please tell me you didn’t!”
“Stay fucking still!” I hiss when he moves his hand.
“She has to be what? Nineteen?”
“Twenty-one.”
“Fuck, Doc, that makes you fifteen fucking years older than her. You’re robbing the cradle here, don’t you think?”
My lips stretch into a grin. “Our age gap is the least of our problems right now.” In fact, it doesn’t seem to be an issue at all. Not between us at least.
“Right, the biggest ones being you killed her brother and she sent you to prison.”
I stay quiet. It was an accident, but the court didn’t see it that way. They didn’t even consider the fact that I tried to save the man’s life, and Cara’s statement about attacking the man unprovoked seemed to be damning. “I don’t blame her.”
“Don’t you?” I look up to meet Trigger’s steely gaze with one of my own before he lets out a sigh. “Fuck, I guess you don’t.”
“She doesn’t believe it either.”
“Can you blame her?” he asks. “You suddenly run into the guy you sent to prison, and he takes a liking to you. Wouldn’t you be suspicious of his intentions too?” I hum in response. “She probably thinks you’re biding your time before you take your revenge.”
“I don’t blame her,” I repeat, and isn’t that the crux of all.
“Knowing that is not enough. I imagine she would prefer to knowwhyyou don’t hold a grudge over her sending you to jail for five years, perhaps more if you hadn’t been released early.”
“For someone who shot themselves this morning, you almost sound smart.”
He sighs. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”
“No,” I say cheerfully, dressing the wound. “You’re lucky you didn’t need surgery. Still, you’re going to be off your motorcycle for a few weeks.”
