“You can take her cunt, even if she isn’t willing to give it, boy. But that isn’t your style, so live in cock misery.”
He’d long ago made his feelings clear about Bash’s treatment of women. “Aunt Celia likes Meggie, too. If you kill her—”
“Fuck, fine, you win. I won’t kill that little cunt.”
Bash’s disgruntled tone didn’t inspire either relief or belief in Easton. He took it as the brush-off it was. “Tabitha can end up dead anyway. She’s a cokehead and she’s fucking a motherfucker with a crazy bitch for a wife.”
“Celia will still be devastated, so I will retaliate. It just won’t be against Diesel. That’s a fucking no-brainer. What the fuck’s wrong with you?”
Before Easton answered, Griffin Cox walked into the room. He was a hospital administrator who served as the Death Dweller’s liaison. From what Easton understood, he’d been installed mainly for the club’s benefit.
“Thank you for your patience,” he said to the room at large, his politeness matching his sharp attire and professional mien. He nodded to Bash. “Mr.Caldwell.”
Bash grunted, his only response.
Cox turned to Easton. “I will get what I need for you and personally escort you downstairs, sir.” Once again, he addressed Bash. “If you’d pull the vehicle to the entrance, I’d appreciate it.”
After a moment of consideration, Bash got to his feet. “Why areyouwheeling my boy downstairs and not one of those nurse cunts? Are you sure this isn’t a fucking setup? A signal to cut Easton down when they see their special liaison?”
“It isn’t a setup,” Cox said, the words brimming with sincerity. Of course, any brother worth his fucking salt wouldn’t admit to setting an enemy up. The fact that Cox was club adjacent was irrelevant. He was still on the Dwellers’ payroll. He’d follow their orders or risk death. “Diesel instructed me to give you a bulletproof vest and have a team of hospital security escort you. He wasn’t certain if any Death Dwellers would be available since the date of your release was unknown.”
“Are you expecting someone to take a shot at Easton?” Bash asked, frowning.
“Are you, Mr. Caldwell?” Cox retorted. “I follow the instructions I’m given. I don’t request intimate details. If you’d prefer to talk to Diesel so he can explain, I’ll be happy to wait.”
Bash’s nostrils flared, and he flickered his gaze from Easton to Cox. “If my boy’s hurt whilehe’s in your care, I’ll kill you. Just remember that,” he said and left.
Cox heaved in a breath. “Give me five minutes.”
“I’ll be in Molly Harris’s room,” he said. He still hadn’t seen her and wanted to check on her for himself instead of receiving secondhand information.
“I’ll wheel you there—”
“I suggest you move your ass. Bash isn’t known for his patience. My way is better.”
Hesitation crossed Cox’s face. Easton suspected he’d been given very detailed instructions that he feared deviating from.
“It’ll be our secret,” Easton promised.
“At least allow me to assist you there.”
Giving in that much wasn’t an issue, so Easton nodded and lumbered to his feet, grabbing the cane Cox held out to him. Easton planned to load up on pain killers and alcohol because he didn’t want to rely on the cane tonight. It wasn’t vanity. It was survival because Tio and Cleaner would be there. Not only did Easton need to keep himself safe, but the women and girls who’d be at Celia’s. Extra eyes and ears were needed to keep those fuckheads in line. For now, Easton leaned into his cane, wincing every step of the goddamn way.
Cox opened the door but remained in the hallway. “Give me five minutes.”
Molly’s room was almost twice the size of Easton’s. The extra bed surprised him as did allthe balloon bouquets held in place by various sized teddy bears.
Long lashes fanned her closed eyelids. Her color was much healthier and while she was still skinny, she wasn’t as gaunt. Someone had combed her hair and styled it into two pigtails. She looked so fucking young and vulnerable. He hated the idea that she’d be on the wing at the mercy of strangers. True, he hadn’t seen her since the day Cleaner shot him, but he was on premises. As he healed, he’d planned to spend more time with her, never expecting to be released so soon.
He grabbed her hand, the one without the IV and kissed the back of it, then leaned forward and kissed her forehead.
Her lashes fluttered and unfocused blue-gray eyes settled on him. She smiled. “You’re the nice bull,” she said groggily.
She classified all the motherfuckers who had taken advantage of her as bulls.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said gruffly. They’d been through a lot together as he’d tried to save her life. Their sex battered his conscience. However, she was safe now and that was all that mattered. “You’re going to be fine.”
“I visited the moon. Mama was there. So was her head.”
