Doc (Ruthless Kings MC #7) - K.L. Savage Page 0,33

if Skirt is in the house, with an explosion like that, there’s no way he’s alive.

I’m not the praying type, but whoever is listening, fucking help us.

There’s smoke coming from the inside of the compound. I slam on the brakes, and the car skids to a stop, fishtailing from the momentum still carrying me forward. Dust and burnt rubber swallow the car in a cloud. My arms throb, and the pain causes everything to slant in my vision. My left hand trembles as I tug on the door handle. I bump the door shut with my hip, hold my hands to my chest, and run down the dirt road.

Rocks stab my feet. The flimsy hospital gown rubs against my legs, and the dry air evaporates the water in my eyes and replaces it with sand instead. A sharp sting and a loosening feeling comes from my left arm. When I look, blood appears against the bandage, telling me another stitch has popped.

Eric might not be able to stitch me up because of what is going on here. It was selfish of me to leave the hospital, but I needed to know if my friends were okay.

If Eric would be okay.

My toes dig into the dirt when I come to a stop and peer through the iron gates to see what’s going on. What I see has my pain forgotten. The smoke is black, and Eric is yelling at Poodle as he carries Melissa into the house. Her hair is flowing in the smoky wind, and her body is limp. Skirt’s house is in flames, and there is a murderous scream coming from inside of the clubhouse.

It’s a sound I’ll never be able to forget.

Eric whips his head to the clubhouse when the scream reaches him. Eric runs his fingers through his hair, cursing and looking back at Skirt’s house. He makes a decision and gives the burning building his back while he jumps on the porch and runs inside.

With a gulp, I turn my body and step between the iron bars. I bite my lips and spread my arms like an eagle. My flesh, muscle, blood, and bone press against the self-inflicted cut. My skin is going to tear, and I’m going to lose the small amount of life I’ve gained.

My breasts smash against the metal, roughly rubbing against my nipples. I grunt when the bottom half of my body won’t come through the gate. I tug, pull, but nothing. Wrapping my fingers around the rods, I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and immediately hold back a shout of agony as I use my strength to pull myself up and out.

Pop.

Pop.

Pop.

My stitches pop one by one until I let go of the iron gate. I want to scream from the gasoline fuming my veins, scorching me from the inside out. The tips of my fingers tingle, and raindrops of blood fall onto the ground. As I put one foot in front of the other, I leave a trail behind.

Wetness drips against my stomach, and that’s when I see that the blood is making my gown stick to me. I see Juliette tend to Knives. One of his legs is torn to freaking shreds from the bullets. No one notices me. I’m a ghost because everyone’s focus is on someone else. A bark sounds from my left, startling me. It’s Lady, and her beautiful white hair is patchy with red.

Blood.

She runs toward the flames, barking at the raging beast of a blaze engulfing the sky. If it gets any bigger, the entire compound could go up in flames. Someone’s in there. I decide to go the back way in hopes no one will see me. As I jog around the house, the stillness on this side of the fortress is spine-tingling and fear-inducing. I can smell the smoke and feel the heat of the fire threatening to bubble my skin, but the screams are drowned out from the guttural growl and animalistic roar of the flame.

“Someone! Please, help me!”

I can’t figure out where the voice is coming from.

“Joanna? Oh, thank God.”

“Mary!” I exclaim when the realization hits me. “Mary, oh my God, are you okay? Where are you?” I squeeze my eyes shut when a wave of debilitating pain hits me. I have to keep going. It’s all I can do.

She doesn’t answer me back.

Cold dread soaks into me, and I head in the direction where I thought I heard her. The sky is painted charcoal gray, and the