Doc (Ruthless Kings MC #7) - K.L. Savage Page 0,19
doctor.”
You’re someone different than what I’m used to.
That’s what I really want to say, but the barbed wire fence around my heart tightens, reminding me that it isn’t a good idea to let anyone inside.
If I let her in, what if she does this again, and I don’t get to her in time?
My phone rings, and I have to let go of her hand to answer it. I hurry so I don’t wake her up. My mom’s name fills the screen, and I silently curse. Damn it. I forgot about dinner.
“Hey, Mom.” I keep my voice low. I turn away from Jo and get up, putting a few feet between us. “How are you?”
“Are we still on for tonight?” she asks. “I’m at the store, and I know how you get.”
I rub my temples as I figure out what to say.
“What happened, and when can you have dinner?” I can hear the smile through her words. I’m glad she knows me so well. I’d be lost without her.
“Mom…” I turn my head over my shoulder to check on Jo. I thought I heard her sigh. “I’m so sorry. An emergency came up. A friend of mine is in the hospital.”
“Oh, no! Well, that’s no problem. I understand. Let me know if there is anything I can do, okay? I’ll let you go. Now, tell me you love me.”
I smirk at her demand. “You know I love you.”
“I love you too, sweetie. Give a hug to your friend for me. Let’s just do Sunday dinner, like usual.”
“You got it, Mom. I’ll talk to you later.” I hang up the phone and stuff it in my pocket.
I saunter over to the chair again and sit down. I’m fucking beat from the day, and it’s nowhere near over.
“Mmm,” Jo grunts, her brows pinching together as the anesthetic wears off. Her toes wiggle under the sheet, and her fingers twitch.
I stand up, excited from the movement. This is good. This is great fucking news. “Jo, hey. Come on, wake up. I’m here. Eric is here.” I stroke her cheek with my finger and the crease between her brows fade. A small smile tugs at her lips, but she doesn’t open those green eyes. “Come on, Jo. Let me see you. I need to know you’re okay.” The words of encouragement do nothing to seep into the unconscious state she’s in. I push her hair behind her ear and grin. “That’s okay. I’ll wait. I’m a patient man. Don’t hurry on my account.”
The gauze surrounding her arm rubs against the callouses on my hand. With my index finger, I draw a line down the middle of the bandage, knowing that underneath all the dressings are deep cuts that are bruised and ragged. The stitches probably look angry from pulling the skin tight. She isn’t going to be able to do anything for the next few weeks, not unless she wants to pull her stitches out.
“I just want to know what you were thinking,” I say, keeping my tone soft. “We haven’t gotten to know each other yet, not like we should.” There are more memories to be made besides one night of me spooning her so she’d stop screaming in the middle of the night. I’m not sure how I helped, but the moment I climbed into bed and wrapped my arm around her, pulling her back to my chest, her screams faded to a whimper. Eventually, she fell into a silent rest.
And what unsettles me the most is she brings me to a silent rest too.
No more overthinking.
No more stress.
No more burden of my past weighing on me.
The phantom pain of my dad’s scalpel hasn’t been there since I’ve heard her voice on the phone.
I’m a different man when she exists and if she didn’t, the man I’d become would start a war with himself.
Silence is scary, deafening.
What’s there to do in silence besides scream the pain away?
I don’t know. I’ve never learned, but Jo makes me want to.
I expect peace in death. Maybe learn if there is a heaven or hell. Am I going to spend an eternity in flames, or am I going to have wings and fly around the clouds? Or maybe none of that shit is real. Maybe it’s a void, a space where the afterlife gathers. Wishful thinking, I’m sure. When people die, that’s it. That’s where it ends. There isn’t anything after the last breath leaves your lungs.
And anything that says there is, it’s just a fable.