“Prospect!” I yelled when Echo’s voice got too loud and I couldn’t take it anymore. “Get in here!”
The door opened and he came in, gun in hand again. Jesus Christ, this kid wasn’t going to make it if he carried on like this. You can’t go wielding a gun around a hospital like it’s a gangland shoot out.
“Put that away!” I yelled, and he quickly tucked it back into the waistband of his jeans.
“Sorry, I was told to be on guard at all times in case they came back.” As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted saying them. Knowing my brothers had been talking about that possibility with everyone but me pissed me off. I’d known there was a chance, but I hadn’t realized that they all thought it was a real threat.
I reached under my mattress, my fingers finding purchase on my own gun, and I pulled it out, aiming it at the door. He was too far away to see how my arm shook under the weight of the gun, my muscles not ready for this yet.
“Any of those dumb fucks come near me and I’m sending them straight back to hell, brother. Now calm your shit down.” I slid the gun back underneath, hating that I could feel the tremors moving up and down my arms, tingles in each of my fingers. Belle was supposed to massage my hands but had forgotten. I hated her in that moment. Her forgetfulness had made me feel weak.
What had gotten into her today? She was normally so attentive to everything that I wanted or needed—well, apart from my cock, that is. But she was gentle with her touch, constantly asking if I was okay, if she was being too rough or too soft. She was a regular people pleaser was Belle. But not today. Today she’d been more than distracted, and I wanted to know why.
“How did she seem to you?” I asked, curious to see if everyone was getting the same shitty treatment as me.
The prospect looked confused and shrugged. “Who?”
“The nurse, asshole!”
He frowned. “What do you mean, Beast?”
“It’s not rocket science, kid. Did she seem okay to you?” I snapped impatiently.
He shrugged again. “I guess.”
Man, this kid was dumber than a box of rocks. His job was to notice if something or someone was off, yet he looked like he barely knew what day of the week it was. I needed to tell Shooter to cut this kid from the club; he was no good. I was surprised he’d lasted this long.
I thought back to Echo and how shitty a prospect he’d been at first. Kid had knocked a full row of bikes over on his first week working for us. Cost hundreds of dollars’ worth of damage. Back then I’d said the same thing to Hardy, our old VP—that we needed to ditch Echo because he was no good for the club. But Hardy had told me that Echo was my problem. That I was his sponsor now for being such a dick. Told me that I had to take him under my wing and make it work. Fucking hated those first few months of babying that little shit; caused me endless amounts of stress, but he’d come out the other side and had ended up one of our best prospects and eventually he’d been like a little brother to me.
God, I missed him.
“You still need me?” the prospect asked.
“No, get the fuck out,” I replied, and he nodded and turned to leave. “Wait, what’s your name, kid?”
He looked back at me with a frown. “Joey.”
“You thought of a road name yet?” I asked.
You didn’t get to pick your own road name, but all prospects tried to think of one for themselves. He shook his head, his expression remaining neutral, yet I saw something behind his eyes that told me more than he was giving away.
“What is it?” I asked, knowing he’d come up with one for himself. They were normally dumb and didn’t fit them at all, but I was still curious to hear it all the same. “Go on, I know you’ve thought of one.”
He licked his lips and smiled. “Demon.”
Fucker sounded so proud of himself, not realizing he’d be laughed out of the club if he said that to anyone but me.
Hell, I wanted to laugh at him—probably would have if I could remember how to laugh. This was exactly why you didn’t get to pick your own road name. Demon was a name given to an enforcer or someone who’d shown that he had a screw missing in that big old brain of his. That was not this kid in any way.
“I’m a demon in bed and a demon on the road,” he continued, his grin going wider.
Jesus Christ, this kid wasn’t going to make it.
Chapter Nine
~ Belle ~
The letter hitting my mailbox had made my good mood dissipate quicker than you could say lickety-split, but when Joey had stormed into the room pointing his gun directly at my abdomen I almost peed my pants. I was a positive kind of girl, but there was just no way I could spin anything good from this. The letter, then Beast’s rage at me for not being gentle or attentive enough, and then the prospect of being shot because I was clearly terrible at my job... It was just too much.
