One
Monster
Sweat drips from my temples. I’ve never been so goddamn sick in my life and this fever is bad. If I wasn’t so hardheaded this shit would have been handled a long time ago.
“Keep your arm straight asshole,” Viking grumbles next to me as Paul, our clinic doc shoves a needle into me.
“I don’t need this shit,” I snap back.
“Yeah, you’re lookin’ remarkably well,” Mason adds. Fucker.
“Hey, fuck off before I nail your girl,” I mumble. Mason just laughs knowing damn good and well that I wouldn’t touch Whit. That girl has lost her damn mind. There’s no way in hell I’d go near her.
As I lay my head back and let the doctor do his work, I can’t help but let my mind stray. I wonder what life is like back home in California. I was patched into the No Cal Chapter of the Soulless Bastards years ago, but my life is complicated. I had far too many ghosts haunting me back there, so I asked for a transfer. Declan wasn’t happy that I was leaving, but he understood. I needed to get away from that place and all of the bad shit that happened there. Viking welcomed me with open arms. They were a big family long before I got here, but this past year has brought us even closer together.
Since Fin and his woman had bowed out to go to rehab, his spot became mine. I talked to Fin first though. I didn’t feel right taking his place without seeing where his head was at, but he just couldn’t handle being here anymore. I get that more than anyone, so here I am. I’m a member of the Miami Chapter of the Soulless Bastards.
“How long is this shit gonna take?” I groan as the doc hooks up the IV.
“I’m running antibiotic fluids. The infection is bad Monster. I don’t know why you waited so long to get it treated.” I resist the urge to roll my goddamn eyes at him.
“He’s right. That gunshot wound could have been healin’ up by now,” Viking adds.
“Is this jerk my dick day? Fuck off,” I grumble.
“Can you put some happy meds in that thing too doc?” Mason asks with a chuckle.
I flip him off and close my eyes willing the goddamn world to just fade away if only for a few minutes.
“You’ll be staying here for a few days,” the doc tells me. I shove myself up, reach for the IV in my arm, and try to pull it out when Viking knocks my hand away.
“Don’t you fuckin’ do it,” he growls.
“I ain’t stayin’ in this fuckin’ hell hole for a few days. It ain’t even a fuckin’ hospital and it smells like a fuckin’ outhouse,” I snap as the guys laugh.
“Too fuckin’ bad brother. Doc says you need the antibiotics or your ugly ass could die.”
“Let me die then.”
“Lay the fuck down and be a good little bitch,” Mason teases. I lay down, but I’m ready to snap someone’s neck.
“If I have to be stuck here with you can you at least put on a sexy little nurse’s outfit?” I tease Paul. He eyes me suspiciously no doubt having heard about Ruger and his fucked up antics. The guys all laugh as Paul starts to really look scared.
“I won’t be here at night. I have a girl that can handle changing your bags and shit,” he grumbles looking anywhere but at me.
“I’m not gay Paul. You can calm the fuck down.”
“Ruger isn’t gay either,” he responds quickly. His reply causes me to laugh, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking.
“True, but I ain’t him either. So, who’s the girl? She a nurse?”
“You keep your hands off her. She isn’t a nurse, but she does help out around here. She usually stays in the back room,” Paul tells me as he moves around the room.
“You got little girls tied up in the back room now?” I know I’m pushing his buttons, but it makes me feel better. “And if she’s not a nurse how do you know that she knows how to do this shit?”
Paul sighs before he looks over at me, “I’ve taught her over the years that she’s been here. She likes to learn, she catches on quickly and helps out around here. She can handle you. I promise,” he says with a smirk.
I like the sound of her already.
“We’re gonna head out. I need to get shit set up back at the clubhouse for the Rebels. You get healed up so you can come home, yeah?” Viking nods at me.
“Yeah I get it,” I mumble as I close my eyes again.
I’d just like to sleep this fever off if that’s possible. I wish the Rebels weren’t coming so I could heal at the clubhouse, but with so much going on there right now our normal doc refused. I think the fucker has some beef with the Rebels that we don’t know about as of yet. I keep my eyes closed as the guys start leaving. The silence is welcomed, at least for now.
“Kyza will be here soon with food. If you need anything at all just ask her. She’s a nice girl, you shouldn’t have any problems with her. She’ll come in and give you the medication as needed,” Paul rambles on.
“Kyza? Like the roll?” I pop an eye open and ask as I glance over at him to see him shaking his head like he’s tired of hearing me already.
“Nowhere near the same, dumbass.”
“You have shitty bedside manners for a doc,” I quip before I close my eyes again.
“If I didn’t have to deal with your dumbasses all day I would be a lot happier,” he says with a hint of sadness in his voice.
“Why do you do it then?”
He doesn’t answer me and that has piqued my interest. I open my eyes and turn to look at him. He looks lost. Sad even.
“I lost my wife ten years ago. Right before she died she lost her sister. She couldn’t get adequate medical care because she couldn’t afford it, she didn’t have any insurance. She was living off disability payments, and just couldn’t cut it.”
“You opened your office in the shittiest part of town to help those that need it the most?” I ask.
“Yeah. Figured it was my way of giving something back. Ella, my wife, that’s all she ever wanted.”
“And now you get stuck treating assholes dealin’ in the illegal side of shit,” I murmur under my breath.
“Do you have insurance Monster?”
I narrow my eyes and shake my head.
“Then you’re just a person in need of help too.” He turns toward the door when I stop him.
“Hey Paul?”
He turns back to look at me.
“That means a lot. Not just to me. You’re doin’ your wife proud man.”
With a quick nod he’s gone.
Two
Kyza
Music blasts through my headphones as I dance my way down the road. Bad part of town? Shit, I grew up in worse than this. This isn’t bad to me, or maybe I just don’t see a problem with the way people live around here. I’ve seen it every day for the last twenty-two years.
“Hey Kyza,” one of the homeless ladies yells at me. I pull my headphones off and wrap them around my neck as I smile at her.
“Kelly, how are you? How’s the finger?”
She came into the clinic a while back with a cut that needed stitches. I’m not a nurse, but I could be. Paul made sure I knew enough about that kind of shit.