Doc (Ruthless Kings MC #7) - K.L. Savage Page 0,83

shorter than the rest. His lips are pressed together in a tight line, and his arms are crossed. Neither of the guys are looking into the room. They’re staring at the wall. “Get your head out of your asses, now. I’m not in the mood. We have bigger fish to fry than your goddamn hair and you with your tendencies.”

“Yes, Prez,” they say at the same time.

“Tool, go shave your head. You look fucking ridiculous. Knives, you’re going with her to see Doc’s mom. We need to make room for her here. I’ll say why at church. Don’t ask me questions, and don’t fuck around; I don’t have the patience.”

Knives doesn’t say a word. He steps forward and stares down at me. His head is shaved on the sides and the top is a little longer than the rest. He has a tattoo under neck that says ‘Judge Me’ and it makes me wonder what would happen if I did…

I bet he’d gut me.

Knives bends over and slides his arms under me, and I barely have time to clutch onto the crutches before they fall. “What are you doing?”

“Picking you up. You’re pregnant and cut yourself.”

“I can walk. I’m fine,” I say, blushing as Reaper and Tool eye us down as we leave. Tool sneers at Knives, and I have to hold back a smile with how goofy he looks. He does need to shave his head.

“No way. Pregnant women can’t be walking around anyway. It’s better this way. You’re safe. I don’t want Doc to slice me with his scalpel. Man is dark. I see it in his eyes.” Knives gets a little shifty, darting his eyes around the kitchen as we walk. “Eyes tell all,” he adds.

“Ooookay,” I say, lifting my head up to watch where we’re going. “You know the baby isn’t going to fall out of me, right?”

“We don’t know that.” Knives shrugs and angles his body as we squeeze through the hallway so my legs don’t hit the wall.

That’s thoughtful.

I never should’ve cut myself. I need to have another outlet. Maybe I can talk to Eric about therapy. Reaper mentioned it, but with everything that has happened, therapy hasn’t been on anyone’s mind. I need it, though.

I don’t want to be broken anymore. I want to be better, not just for me, not just for Eric, but for the baby. God, when I heard that heartbeat for the first time, I felt something inside me shift. The need to survive overwhelmed me. Life isn’t about me anymore; it’s given me something to focus on, to make sure I get strong enough to be a mother to this child.

Even though I never wanted to be pregnant any time soon, even though I never imagined getting pregnant like I did, not ever hearing that fast whoosh of his heart would devastate me.

“Got a new bride, Knives?” Slingshot asks, making me giggle as he eats one of those forbidden tacos he isn’t supposed to gnaw on.

“Shut up. Don’t say that shit. She isn’t my bride. I’m making sure she doesn’t walk. She’s injured. If Doc comes at me, I’m stealing your tacos,” Knives threatens. We reach the door, and Tank hurries from the couch to open it. He gives me a shy smile and looks away from me.

For a man who has a badass look to him, tall, muscular, tattoos, piercings, he is a bashful thing. “Thanks, Tank.”

“Aw, it’s nothin,” he scoffs, slapping his hand through the air.

“It’s very kind.”

“Don’t talk to anyone. Doc might hear,” Knives says.

“Doc isn’t even around,” I point out as we step onto the porch. The day is promising fall. The air is cool, but the sun is warm. It’s a perfect combination. Knives stomps down the steps, looks longingly at his bike as we head toward the black on black diesel truck.

I reach out to open the door, and Knives yanks me away so I can’t. “Knives, come on. I can open a door.”

“No fucking way. Hands to yourself,” he says, moving around and grumbling under his breath as he tries to open the door. “Damn it.” He struggles. He spins around, pressing my head against the truck, and he manages to get his fingers under the door handle.

Don’t mind me. I’m fine. My cheek is only pressed against dried mud on the truck.

“There we go,” he celebrates with a big goofy grin.

I wipe my cheek off, and he bends down to put me in the truck, but he smacks my head