Wild (Diamondback MC 2)

“Take a break, girlie.” My eyes popped open. A man who isn’t Shovel is staring down at me. He’s got light brown eyes, dark hair that’s graying at his temples, a smattering of silver along his jawline in his beard.

“I have to get up. I can’t bring this much trouble to you.” I attempt to sit up, but the blood rushing to my head tells me that isn’t on the agenda.

“That’s for us to decide, babe.” My head moves too fast towards Shovel’s voice.

“I don’t get a say?” I see the way he tries to hide his grin. It isn’t working though.

“Not yet. You get better. We talk about it, I bring it to the table, then we’ll worry about trouble.” He isn’t backing down.

“I just pulled a slug out of your chest, stitched you up. Your forehead and your lip will take a bit to heal. Try not to mess with it.” This comes from Doc—at least I’m assuming that’s what his name is.

“Okay, thank you. I’m still not sure why you’d want this trouble, but if you don’t mind, I think I’ll close my eyes for a few minutes.” The other guy in the room chuckles.

“She has no fuckin’ idea, does she?” he asks.

“Nope.” My eyes are darting back and forth between all three.

“Get some rest, Persephone. We’ll deal with this shit later. Right now, you need to heal, and to do that, you need sleep.” Shovel sits in a chair next to my bed. Thankfully, someone had the forethought to put a sheet over me, so my boobs aren’t out in the open.

“Okay.” I’m not sure how I was able to hold on to Shovel on the short ride to what he called his clubhouse. By the time we got here, my eyes were ready to slam shut and my body was starting to shiver in the hot August sun. Something I knew shouldn’t be happening. It was either dehydration, the lack of blood because it was seeping out of my body, or the combination of both. Now, here I am, lying in a bed, not having the slightest idea who put me here.

“Sleep,” Shovel orders for good measure. My eyes close, and I think this is the safest I’ve felt since I lost my parents. I also do as Shovel ordered.

Three

Shovel

“Claimin’ her, so while I sit here and watch her sleep, you boys are up.” It may not be in the way Razor claimed Raven, but it’s fiercely needed to protect her from the fuckin’ unknown.

I saw the way Doc looked at her, not with pity but with the eyes of a father looking down imagining it could be his own child in this predicament.

“You sure that’s smart? She barely knows who you are, let alone our club.” That’s the most common-sense statement Ruger has probably ever made.

“Might not be, but someone knowingly dropped her off in our territory, either leaving her for dead or makin’ a statement. I’m leaning towards the statement, but until we get some more information, we won’t know. So, she’s mine, end of.” I’m letting them all know this conversation is over. If they got a problem, they can bring it up at the table when everyone’s here.

“Alright, guess I’ll get my ducks in a row and start working the camera angle. Might be able to do a search of her name too. Not a real popular name. Shouldn’t be hard.” Ruger nods.

“Appreciate it, brother.” My eyes meet his. He gets what I’m saying, then he’s heading out of my room. I didn’t even think of bringing Persephone anywhere else.

“Think I’m gonna get my girl to come stay at the house for a bit, do those damn classes of hers online.” Doc has been a single dad since the day his daughter’s mom placed Monroe in his arms the minute she was discharged from the hospital twenty some odd years ago. He took it in stride. It wasn’t easy, and it was before I was the President of the Diamondback MC.

“Think that might be a good idea. While you’re doing that, tell Ruger to pick up Sadie and Henley too. He finds out I’m calling everyone in, he’ll want them here. That way, he’s not going off halfcocked. You know where Razor and Raven are?” Sadie is Mack’s ex, and Henley is her little girl. Now that Mack is out of the picture, Ruger stepped up to the plate. We all warned him shit could get dicey, but he didn’t see it that way, so now we’re letting shit lie where it does. The rest is up to him.

“Nope, but I’ll call one or the other, let them know to make an appearance.” Doc was around when my dad founded this place. Hate like hell he’s not here on earth anymore, but pancreatic cancer had a different agenda.