Doc (Ruthless Kings MC #7) - K.L. Savage Page 0,46

He stares at everyone in the beds to his left.

“No, that was a different incident,” Reaper states, casting a concerned glance on every member of the MC who is down for the count right now.

Moretti blinks, and suddenly his eyes swim with tears. I can only fathom how emotional this is. To not remember a damn thing? That’s hell.

“Give us a minute, will you?” I step forward and grab the curtain to give us privacy by blocking the world around us. I readjust his meds and give him a relaxant in his IV. It doesn’t take long before he exhales, and his heart rate declines and finally holds at a healthy, steady rate. “Moretti, I know how confusing this must be for you—”

“You don’t know shit,” he seethes, struggling to swallow from how dry his throat his. He searches for the water bottle, and I grab it from the food tray for him. He snatches it from my hand and daggers me with hatred from the abyss of his tired eyes. “Don’t sit there and act like you know anything about how I feel. I can’t remember anything. It’s a cloud, blurry and dark. I can’t remember my own fucking name. I didn’t know I had a brother. I don’t know you fucking assholes. Do me a favor and get the fuck away from me!” he hollers. He unscrews the cap of the bottle and throws the water in my face.

“I’ll come back later.” I wipe my hand through the cold liquid on my face.

“Don’t fucking bother.” Moretti launches the bottle over my head, and it smacks on the ground somewhere behind me.

I’m glad it didn’t hit anyone. That’s all I care about.

I swear to God, I’m going on vacation after the kind of week I’ve had.

My phone rings, and I step out of Moretti’s space and close the curtain behind me. It’s my mom.

“Are you coming?” she texts.

Fuck.

How is it seven already?

I didn’t even get to nap.

“Are you okay?” I ask as Doc stares at his phone. He tucks it in his pocket and sighs when Moretti starts to scream behind the curtain. Doc seems defeated, tired. He has stubble on his face from not shaving in a few days.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, reaches into the drawer and pulls out a syringe. Doc disappears behind the curtain, and a second later the screams come to a halt. The curtain opens again, the metal hooks grinding against the rod.

“I’m going to be gone tonight, and I won’t be back until late,” he tells Reaper as he tosses the used needle in the biohazard bag. “Juliette is in charge until tomorrow night. I’m not going to be available. Jo, you’re coming with me.”

I open my mouth, then close it, open it, and close it again. “Where am I going?”

“With me,” he grunts and takes my hand, dragging me toward the steps. He doesn’t leave any room for argument as he gently applies pressure to my fingers to hurry up the stairs. It has my heart stuttering, wondering if it means more than it is. He’s being gentle, remembering the wounds on my arms.

When we get to the top of the stairs and shut the door, he doesn’t say anything to me. He grabs keys off the hook and instead of going straight toward the front entrance, we go out the back, passing Reaper’s office. He opens the door for me, and the night is cool, immediately hitting me in the face. The reminisce of smoke still lingers in the air from Skirt’s house burning down. My heart aches for him, Dawn, and their new baby. I hope he wakes up soon to meet his beautiful daughter.

The sun is setting below the desert, dark oranges and reds saturate the blue and black sky. Stars are peeking out, and the moon can’t be seen. Looking at the sunset, it’s hard to believe that three days ago catastrophe struck here.

Pieces of glass, bullets, blood, and fear have created a veil around this house. It’s hard to breathe. No one feels safe anymore, and I know Reaper is on a rampage to figure out who would destroy their safe haven. That’s what this is. It’s a sanctuary. The Ruthless Kings are a zone where people come for safety and protection. They always get it with loyalty, strength, and perseverance.

Eric still hasn’t spoken a word. He opens the passenger side door for me, and his boots crunch against a piece of