Doc (Ruthless Kings MC #7) - K.L. Savage Page 0,45

this. This is amazing. Reaper is going to be so glad to see you’re awake, Moretti. We have to call your brother, Maximo. Unreal.” I’m more awake now than ever. Adrenaline courses through me, giving me a bolt of energy like a shot of espresso.

His eyes dart from me to Jo, then Poodle. His brows pinch, and for a second, I want to say he seems scared.

His heart rate increases on the monitor, and I realize that he is afraid. “Hey, you’re safe here. You’re okay.”

He wraps his hands around his throat and rubs the area.

Right. Of course. “Poodle, can you get him some water?”

“Yeah, absolutely. I’ll be right back.”

Moretti has lost some weight. His cheeks are sunken in a bit, and he has circles around his eyes. He might have been in a coma for the past year, but he hasn’t had a decent night’s rest since before the explosion at the hotel. His beard is only a few days old. Some of us have been taking turns shaving him so it doesn’t get too unruly.

“Wh—” He tries to speak, but his voice cuts out.

“Don’t try to speak. Don’t force yourself,” I advise him.

“Here.” Poodle comes back with a big water bottle. It has a straw in it so Moretti can easily drink. I take the bottle from his hands and hold it in front of Moretti’s lips. He eagerly wraps his mouth around the straw and gulps the water down so fast it drips from the corners of his mouth.

“Slow,” I warn, but he ignores me. A second later, a coughing fit takes over and from how deep it reverberates in his chest, I know he can’t breathe.

A thunder of boots sound like a herd of horses trampling over us.

“Who—” Moretti struggles to say again darting his gaze around the room “—Who are you people?” he asks between broken nerves and strangled breaths.

Jo gasps from beside me.

“Fuck,” Poodle curses, rubbing a hand down his face. “We do not need this shit right now.”

“Shut the hell up. Amnesia is normal when someone wakes up from being in a coma for so long. I’m glad he can form words. He’s a fucking miracle, Poodle. Show some respect.”

“I’m sorry. I have a lot on my mind.” Poodle runs his fingers through his long mane and then gathers the strands to put his hair in a bun.

“We all do,” Sunnie whispers from behind us, staring at an unconscious Patrick.

“Moretti, what is the last thing you remember?” I ask him, shining a light in each eye to make sure they are reacting the same.

“That’s my name?” He starts to become distressed, breathing so hard that I’m worried he might hyperventilate. “Where am I? What happened? Who are you people? Get away from me!” he yells.

My eyes flick to the heart monitor and notice how it’s climbing; he might go into cardiac arrest if he doesn’t settle down. I hold up my hands and take a step away. I don’t have to tell everyone around me to do the same, they just follow my lead, giving Moretti space. The more distance we put between us, the more his heartrate slows.

“I’m going to be honest, I don’t know your first name. You always went by Moretti. Even your brother calls you that. You’re in a safe place—” Reaper cuts me off when he enters the basement and cheers.

“Moretti, you asshole! You woke up.”

“Reaper, don’t!” I grab his arm and pull him back from getting closer. “He can’t remember anything,” I mutter from the side of my mouth.

His eyes widen, and then the one thing I hate to see most in friends and family passes across his face. All the hope he kept for so long fades. Reaper’s massive shoulders deflate. It seems like we can’t get a win. No matter the good we do, no matter what we sacrifice, we end up in the aftermath of the nightmare.

“We’re friends, Moretti. You have a brother. You’ve been here for the last year in a coma. You were in a hotel explosion. Is there anything you remember? Anything at all about yourself?” Reaper speaks in short, clipped sentences to make it easier for Moretti to understand. I’m impressed with how Reaper is handling the situation, but I’m not surprised. He is the Prez for a reason. The guy who fixes every problem by finding a solution.

Moretti’s brown eyes cast over everyone around him, and his throat bobs as he swallows. “Them? They were in the explosion too?”