Doc (Ruthless Kings MC #7) - K.L. Savage Page 0,42

the poor girl looks drained.

“He’ll be okay. Eric is the best,” I reassure her. “He won’t let anything happen to Patrick.”

“He’s been through so much. He’s lived through so much. He can’t die now, you know? We finally have our lives together. We were supposed to have time. More time. That’s what rehab was all about. We survived. We are supposed to have kids, have fun, be in love. Now—” she presses her palms against her eyes and her face turns red—“I won’t be able to deal with it if he dies. I’ll relapse. I know I will. We take care of each other. We help each other. I can’t. I think I’m going to be sick.” She flies out of the chair and heads straight for the restroom, throwing up in the toilet from the stress she put herself under.

I don’t understand what she means. I’ve never been in love like that, but I immediately think about Eric and wonder how I’d react if something happened to him. The thought steals my breath. The opportunity to not love him hurts more than the thought of loving him. Doc is the kind of man who deserves a woman who isn’t fucked up. He shouldn’t have to worry about a train wreck like me. Would he love me or worry about me more? How long would it take for him to resent me?

Does he already? I lay my hand on my belly, and the shock of being pregnant rolls through me again. I resent myself. I resent I trusted someone when I know trust is a fickle thing. My friend, the person I thought I was the safest with, did this to me.

I did this to me.

I’m not the woman for Doc. I come with too many strings and too many burdens. He deserves someone who will take care of him after a tough day, like today. He needs someone who understands he doesn’t like to be touched on his back, someone who understands if they never learn the reason why. I’ve noticed him shy away from someone just to make sure they don’t touch.

I wouldn’t ask. I’d let him come to me when he is ready. Until then, I’d treat him delicately. A caress. He’s a package wrapped in fragility, hoping someone knows how to handle him with ease.

The last thing I’d want to do is tear apart our sutures.

One mistake.

That’s all it’s going to take.

And we will never heal.

Too many close calls over the last three days.

Patrick kept clotting. I thought for sure he was going to die. I don’t know how he’s alive. He’s a lucky bastard. That’s what I know. I sit down on my own bed for the first time in days and lean back. I haven’t even had time to shower. I smell, but I don’t have the energy to get up. I want to sleep.

Forever.

My phone vibrates, and I groan, not wanting to answer it. I pull it out of my pocket and rub the blurriness out of my eyes when I see it’s my mom calling. “Damn it,” I say when I realize today is Sunday. I can’t cancel on her again.

“Hello?” I answer, groggy and half-asleep.

“Hey, sweetie. Still on for tonight?”

No.

I’ve never been able to say no to my mom, and I’m not about to start now. “Absolutely. Can we make it seven instead of six?” I don’t say why, and I hope she doesn’t ask. It’s for sleep. I need a couple hours. I’m about to fall over.

“Yeah, sweetie. That’s fine. I’ll see you then. Now…”

I grin for the first time in a week because I know what she’s about to say.

“Tell me you love me.”

She always makes me feel like a damn kid again. I’m a grown fucking man, but I’m going to say it anyway, and whoever catches me can fuck off. If they can’t admit they love their mothers, something is wrong with them. We wouldn’t be who we are without them. “I love you, Mom. You know that.”

“I know. I just like to hear you say it. Are you okay? You sound tired. Are you getting enough rest? Are you taking your vitamins? You know what I’ve been saying, Eric—”

“I know, Mom. I need to go, okay? I’ll see you tonight.”

She sighs dramatically and huffs. “Fine. I’ll see you later.”

I throw my phone to the side and close my eyes, not bothering to get under the covers or take off my boots. I let the silence lull