“I’m under strict orders,” Raff said, feigning offense.
“To stay on your ass. Not to not reach for your own drink,” Slash shot back.
Was the guy milking his injury?
Abso-fucking-lutely.
But we were so damn glad he made it that we generally ignored his revolving door of women wearing various kinds of nurse’s dresses or scrubs that had been around the clubhouse for the past day and a half.
It really had been touch-and-go for him that first night.
Dr. Price said that Raff had been putting on a good show for us so we didn’t worry, that he was in the beginning stages of shock when he got to the office.
But because it was a small town and we wanted to avoid the hospital if at all possible, there was no chance for a transfusion.
He’d been pumped full of fluids, cleaned and stitched up, and slowly stabilized.
Raff came home with an IV drip—something Dr. Price said was not normally done, but he was bending rules for him since he would be doing daily house calls—and under strict orders to eat lots of red meat, spinach, and beans. He was also instructed to move around as little as possible. To not pull his stitches, sure. But more so, because it was going to take his body up to six weeks to replace his red blood cells. And until then, he was going to be weak.
He wasn’t kidding, either.
Raff got winded and pale as fuck each time he even needed to go to the bathroom. So we’d planted his ass in the living room where everyone could keep an eye on him and get him whatever he needed.
He took it a step further by inviting half the female population over to wait on him hand and foot. Despite there being no option for any… pain relief.
“Babe, don’t wanna be rude, but I’m gonna need your, ah, shift to be over,” Slash said.
“That’s okay. I have to get to actual work anyway,” the woman said, patting Raff’s good leg, then grabbing her bag and heading out, still wearing her costume.
“I was this close to getting a sponge bath,” Raff said with a long-suffering sigh.
“We’ve put this off long enough. Rook is on his way over to tell us what he figured out about this club. And I want to know more about this woman.”
“What woman?” Raff asked, brows pinching as he pulled another blanket off the stack sitting beside him. With all the blood loss, he wasn’t able to get warm enough anymore.
Sway hadn’t seen her either.
If it wasn’t for the guy dead with a plug in his heart, I would think I’d fucking imagined her.
But she’d been there, dammit.
Whywas the real question.
“The one who shot the guy who was gonna off Colter,” Sway said, bringing a cup of coffee over to Raff.
“How’d I miss that?”
“You were busy getting stabbed,” I explained.
“I heard the shot… but I figured it was one of us with how the other guys ran off.”
“No, there was a woman who must have been watching. And she saw the guy behind me, she took him out.”
“Bitter ex?” Slash suggested.
“With that good of an aim from that far away?” I asked. “Maybe. But… I dunno. I’m not sold on that.”
“No one saw a car?”
