Waylon (Ruthless MC 2)

Lucinda blanches, all traces of humor disappearing from her eyes. “No, he did not order those pills for me.”

“Oh,” Dr. Johnny says with no remorse in his voice whatsoever. “In that case, I guess I’ll shoot him a text message and tell him to come pick it up. After you two get out of my trailer.”

He makes a shooing motion, but righteous fury keeps me rooted to the spot.

“First of all, HIPAA laws,” I tell him, rolling my neck like the angry Black woman I was always trying not to be back in Delaware. “You shouldn't be talking to Lucinda or anybody else about somebody’s private medical information without their consent.”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh, see, this is why I don't want you here. Big city nurse. Big city opinions. No, thank you.”

“You can't just say, no, thank you.” I screw up my face and splay both hands at the woman who escorted me here. “Lucinda's pregnant. She needs prenatal care, which you aren’t giving her!”

“You know what, bitch, it is too early for this,” he yells at me. “I got a fucking hangover. If you have a problem with me, take it up with Viking. But I don’t want you coming anywhere near my trailer again. Now skedaddle. Get on now, skedaddle!”

He shoos his hands at me like I'm a rat who somehow found its way into the office he’s obviously also using as a home.

And Lucinda says, “C’mon, Amira. You don’t want to piss off a Reaper. Let the men deal with it themselves.”

Her advice infuriates me that much more. But nothing I have seen over the last forty-eight hours would lead me to think it wasn’t sound. Plus, she’s too pregnant to have to deal with this kind of stress.

I follow her out of the trailer but make sure to slam the door extra hard behind me. I’m pretty sure I hear him call me a bitch again before I make my way down the metal stairs.

“Dr. Johnny is the worst,” Lucinda says as we walk home under the dark cloud of my mood. “I'm so sorry he talked to you like that. Reapers can be…well, you know. But everything will be all right. I’m sure Waylon can find you something else to do if you and Dr. Johnny can’t get along.”

I don't say anything. I mean, what is there to say? Was I actually thinking that I'd stay here and consult on Lucinda's pregnancy with the guy who’s only a doctor in title? That was crazy thinking.

I needed to get back to the original plan and get out of this town.

“Lucinda, listen to me,” I say when we reach Meemaw’s place. “I don't know how close the nearest hospital is, but you need to figure that out and come up with a plan about how you're going to have this baby. It can’t be with Johnny, though. I'm not even sure that guy washes his hands before he sees patients. Promise me you'll find somebody else to help you. Somebody willing to do checkups and ensure a proper delivery when the time comes.

“But—”

I squeeze my hands around her shoulders. I don’t want to distress her, but this is important. And I’m not going to be around to see this out. “Promise me.”

“Okay, I promise, but—”

I don't wait to hear what she says next. I can’t stick around to get dragged even further into this mess. I’ve got my own colossal mess that I need to clean up back home. I have to get out of here.

“Well, that was fast!” Meemaw says when I come through the front door. She’s folding the laundry she had already gone off to do before Lucinda and I set out for the medical trailer.

“I’ve got your scrubs right here along with this piece of paper I pulled out of the pocket with some woman’s name on it. I kept it for you just in case it was something you needed to remember.”

I take the piece of paper with “Stephanie” written across it. Yes, yes, it was something I needed to remember. If I get out of here, maybe I can figure out how to help the other woman being held prisoner by a Fairgood MC.

“Just let me finish folding up this laundry, then I want to hear all about your day,” Meemaw says after handing me the note.

Meemaw. Sweet and kind Meemaw. She might be the only person I can turn to right now.

“Can I talk to you?” I ask, my voice taking on a desperate tinge.

“Sure!” Her face immediately fills with concern. “What's wrong, honey?”

“I don't belong here,” I explain to her in a rush of breath. “Waylon basically kidnapped me from everything I knew back in Delaware. He’s pretty much destroyed my life plan. And I'm not sure what's waiting for me back home, but I've got to return to Wilmington to fix everything and try to get my real job back. That's where I belong. In Delaware. Not here.”