“She needs help, Noah. You can’t keep enabling her.”
“Enablin’ her?” he growled in a throaty roar. “Don’t talk like you know shit ’bout me. You don’t know what I do for her. She’s my mother, and half the time I want to ring her fuckin’ neck for drinkin’ herself into a coma. But what the fuck am I supposed to do? Huh? I can’t make her stop drinkin’, and if you think I’m just gonna let her drink herself into the ground then”—he nodded at me—“fuck you. I’ll take her to another damn hospital. Didn’t ask, and don’t need your shit on top of all the other bullshit I deal wit’ on the daily, Dr. Pierce.”
I jerked back as the elevators dinged open, and it was the first time I took a good look at him. From his tattoos to the cut he was wearing on his back.
I’d lived with a few motorcycle clubs as a child, they were all the same.
Bad.
Especially, Devil’s Rejects.
He couldn’t have been more than fifteen, sixteen years old… how was he already wearing a prospects vest?
“You’re right,” I acknowledged. “I don’t know shit about you. What I do know is that you keep bringing your mother into my ER to get her stomach pumped, and one day her liver is going to stop working and you won’t have a mother to bring into my ER anymore.”
He grimaced. It was quick, but I saw it.
I hated that he was trying to be so fucking strong, when what he needed was for someone to be strong for him.
“I’m trying to help you, it’s my job,” I affirmed in a sincere tone. “I know what it’s like to grow up too fast. I’ve been in your combat boots, but I chose another life.” I didn’t hesitate, eyeing the 1% patch on his cut before bringing my stare to meet his again. “And you can too, Noah.”
It was his turn to get a good look at me, instantly shifting his eyes to the three crosses tattooed on my neck that I was trying to cover with my white doctor coat and stethoscope. He recognized the symbolism behind my tattoos, most people who grew up like we did didn’t bat an eye on the meaning.
They understood. Exactly like he did.
He took one last look at me and backed out of the elevator, leaving me in there. Shaking his head, he scoffed out what I’d been thinking all along, “Not when your old man is the one holdin’ the gun to your head, ready to pull the fuckin’ trigger.”
I jerked back again, instantly understanding who his father was. Putting two and two together seeing Jameson on his cut and his mom’s chart. I hated the reaction I gave him, but for some reason…
It still fucking hurt him coming from me.
“Fuck’s sake, you really are old. Are you reminiscin’ right now?” Noah questioned, bringing me back to the present.
“You’re still such a fuckin’ shit.”
He shrugged. “It’s part of my charm.”
I joked, “I should have just ignored you in the hospital.”
“Naw, it ain’t your style. Case in point, your new live-in nanny. You like savin’ people, Dr. Pierce.”
“She’s here for my kids.”
“Cut the bullshit. You ain’t talkin’ to Skyler. It’s me. Man to man, ain’t nothin’ wrong wit’ movin’ on, Aiden.”
“Don’t.”
“How long you gonna live like this? Bailey wouldn’t want that, and you know it. I’ve let it go on long enough, yeah? You can’t keep this shit up, cuz your gonna lose everythin’ you worked so fuckin’ hard for. You saved my ass more than once, now save your own. Ya feel me?”
“I wish it were that easy.”
“Stop livin’ in the past, there ain’t nothin’ you can do to change what happened with Bailey. It ain’t your fault.”
“Don’t,” I advised again, holding back my temper.
“You can say ‘don’t’ to me all ya want, it doesn’t change the fact Camila is here. For you.”
“For my kids.”
“Whatever ya gotta tell yourself, bro.” He patted my back. “We both know I know women, and that woman is good wit’ your kids, and she’s good to your friends. Ya got any idea how many times she’s sent Skyler home wit’ food for the MC without ever even meetin’ us? You don’t do that for someone you don’t care ‘bout. And from the way she was just lookin’ at you, there’s sure as fuck somethin’ there between you two.”
“Noah—”
“For Christ’s sake, at least stroke your cock to her once, so