Skirt (Ruthless Kings MC #5) - K.L. Savage Page 0,9
to fluids. Whatever happened to her, I’m going to go out on a limb and say it wasn’t good. She looks so small in the bed, so broken. What if we weren’t riding our bikes; what would have happened to her? I don’t even want to think about it.
“Ow.” I reach back and slap the tweezers out of Bullseye’s hands. “Only Doc is allowed to pluck things out of my arse.”
“I have steady hands, Skirt. You’ve seen me with darts. Who better than to pluck needles out of your ass than me?” Bullseye asks, and what scares me is that he’s serious.
“The doctor,” I say as if he’s stupid. “Ye know, the one with the fucking medical degree. I don’t trust ye, any of ye down there.”
“We aren’t going to pluck the hairs off your balls.” Tool chuckles.
“Ruined my surprise.” Tongue’s laugh is a mix of dark and light. I can’t tell if he’s serious.
“Doc? Where the hell are you? Get these things out of my arse before these dumbasses hold me down and pluck them out themselves.”
Metal clinks behind me, and since I can’t really see, another round of nightmares enter my head. What, he has a torture device? No, he’s a doctor. He took an oath. I’m fine.
“Okay, guys. This isn’t a pony show. Go on, leave.” Doc takes charge and tells them to get on with their damn lives, shooing them away like the pesky vermin that they are.
“Fine.”
“Didn’t wanna be down here anyway.”
“I never get to do anything.”
“This is a bunch of horseshit.”
“I need to sharpen my knives anyhow.”
All of them bitch and moan, dragging their sorry asses up the steps one by one. Yeah, like I’ve ruined their life or something. What about me? They aren’t the one with needles in their ass. The basement door slams a bit harder than usual, and I shake my head from their tantrum. “They act like they never seen a guy fall on a cactus before,” I mumble.
“Well, to be fair, I’ve never plucked cactus needles out of a guy from falling on a cactus before,” Doc says, just as he plucks one of the things out of my ass.
I flinch and nearly roll away from him. “Damn, Doc. Can’t ye numb me up or something?”
“Are you going to be that big of a bitch about this?” He steps beside me so I can turn my head to see him. He’s wearing his cut, which he never does, over his pretty boy polo shirt. He has purple latex gloves on and a face mask, but it’s the long silver tweezers that get my attention and have me swallowing. I never, in my life, have seen tweezers that size. Is that necessary? Are those a scare tactic?
It’s working.
“You fight. You literally beat the shit out of whoever Reaper asks you to, and you can’t handle getting a few needles plucked out of your ass?”
“Well, when ye put it that way…” I say and shove my arse up in the air. “Go to town, Doc.” He walks away and flips up my kilt, and I turn my head in embarrassment. This is not how I wanted to start my day. After this is all over, I’m going to go get me a big pint of ale. I deserve it.
I clench my teeth as he yanks every piece of cactus out of me, and I try to focus on anything, everything that isn’t the burning sensation in my lower half. I fixate on the girl in the bed beside me and map her delicate features with my eyes. Even under the cuts and bruises, I can tell she’s beautiful. Her hair looks like it would be a strawberry blonde if it weren’t for all the blood and dirt caked in it.
“Is she going to be alright?” I ask Doc after a few minutes of silence. I wonder if I got to her in time.
“She’ll be fine. She’s exhausted. Dehydrated. I don’t know how long she’s been out there. She needs to gain some weight, but with rest, she’ll make a full recovery.”
“That’s good to hear. I wonder what her story is.”
“Well, if it brought her here to us, it can’t be that good. It never is.”
I know that’s right. Anything that comes through our door brings bloodshed. We fight for what we care about, what we protect, and we will do it for anyone who stays under our roof. I hope that isn’t the case for her, but if it is,