Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
“Where’s Stitches?” I wanted him to check her over before I put her to bed. Might be something other than alcohol and I needed to make sure.
Blaze opened the passenger door to the cage and I settled Odette in, reclining the seat back a bit so she had a better center of gravity. I didn’t want her pitching forward or to the side as I drove.
“Think he had a shift tonight. Want me to have him come see you when he gets off?”
I met Blaze’s gaze with what I was sure was a hostile one of my own. “No, dumbass. I want you to tell him I need his fuckin’ ass at the fuckin’ clinic. Now.”
“Not sure it works that way, Cyrus.” Blaze scrubbed the back of his neck. “How ‘bout I tell him we’re meetin’ him at the hospital. He can tell you what you need to do then.”
Wylde let out an angry squawk as Clutch practically tossed his drunk ass in the back seat. “Not a word outa you, Wylde. And don’t fuckin’ puke in my cage!” Clutch snarled. “You do, I’ll take the cleanin’ out in your hide.”
“Ain’t gonna puke.” Wylde rested his head against the back of the seat.
“Yeah? The sweat on your brow and the way you’re slurrin’ your words say otherwise.” Clutch went to the back and opened the tailgate. He rummaged around before shutting it and thrusting a barf bag in front of Wylde. “You puke in the fuckin’ bag. Get me?”
“Sure thing. You don’t gotta be so mean.” His eyes were closed and he held the bag in his hand resting on his leg, but made no move to ready it for use.
Clutch ground his teeth and pointed at me. “You’re responsible for that fuck.”
“Nope. He got himself drunk. He’s responsible for his own Goddamned self. Me being designated driver is the only reason I’m lettin’ him in here now.”
“How the fuck were you gonna be the DD without a fuckin’ cage?”
I shrugged. “Wylde rode bitch. Always does. Blaze never drinks enough to not be safe on a bike. Besides, that’s why we keep you on.”
That wasn’t true. He was road captain so he was in charge of any runs we did. It was a complicated process where he had to plan out routes that didn’t intersect another club’s territory without permission. He also kept the cages and bikes all in top working order. Anything happening while on a run was his responsibility. He was not required to be on call for anyone who got drunk and couldn’t drive themselves back home. But he always was.
Clutch pointed at me. “You’re on thin ice.”
“You gonna ride my bike back to the clubhouse or not?” I was done here. I needed to get Stitches to check Odette over before I left her alone to sleep it off.
“Fine. Be warned you’re on my shit list, you bastard.”
“As long as I get what I want, I couldn’t give a good Goddamn.” I climbed in and took off before Clutch could change his mind.
I didn’t wait for the notification from Blaze that Stitches was waiting on us. I moved it to the hospital and trusted my brother to be waiting when I got there.
“You’re in so much trouble, little girl,” I muttered even as I reached over to grab Odette’s wrist to check her pulse.
“Ain’t no little girl.” Wylde mumbled from the back seat. I’d forgotten he was there.
“No. You’re a little bitch,” I snapped. “You knew she was here. Did you know how fucking’ drunk she was, too?”
“Nah. Didn’t see her tonight but she’s been here every karaoke night for the last month. Never been drunk before.”
“She know you saw her?”
“Nope.”
I glanced in the rearview mirror at Wylde. He stuck his tongue out like he had a bad taste in his mouth, then scratched his balls and adjusted himself. Fucker. He was drunk off his ass. I was looking forward to making tomorrow a special kind of hell for the little fucker. Next thing I knew, he was snoring. It wasn’t subtle.
The trip to the hospital where Stitches worked took me about fifteen minutes. During that time, Wylde continued to snore. Every time he inhaled or exhaled, the noise got louder and louder. At least it seemed that way. I grabbed a bottle lid in the cup holder and threw it at Wylde. “Shut the fuck up, asshole! Wake up!”
“Wha’dja hit me for?” God. The bastard was whining. I hated whining.
“‘Cause you’re snoring like a motherfucker. I’ve slept under fuckin’ train bridges that were quieter.”
“Bastard…” He muttered his grievance before he was back to snoring. Odette didn’t seem fazed by the noise at all. She slept peacefully in the seat next to me, a little half smile on her face like she was in pure bliss.
I had my fingers on her wrist at her pulse. I told myself I was ensuring she wasn’t in danger, but the fact was, I loved the way her skin felt on mine. The steady beat of her pulse reassured me, but there was more to it than that. I needed Odette close and couldn’t figure out why. Her brother was a badass as well as a very gifted pediatric oncologist. We’d saved each other’s asses multiple times while on tour. I figured I owed him my loyalty because of all the shit we’d been through together. Maybe that was it.