“What?” Please don’t tell me he has conversations with his dead mother.
Bolt holds up the chain. “I always have it on me when I fight, and that night, with everything goin’ on, I forgot it. When I got to the gym, I freaked and had Diesel come here and get it. I keep it in the back of my bottom drawer.”
“And along with the medal, he found the knife.”
“Pretty much.” He leans in. “Hiding that knife in my drawer wasn’t cool.”
“I know, and I’m so sorry. I was desperate. After seeing the condition of your room, I figured you’d never find it, and if you did, I’d be long gone, and you’d know what to do with it.”
“Not anymore.” He motions to his now orderly room.
“Now, I understand why Diesel was giving me those looks.”
“He was just looking out for me. Me finding needy women who like to use me is the regular. Like the chick who conned a thousand bucks outta me for her sick kid. Not only didn’t she have a kid, but then I saw her on IG guzzling drinks at some resort down the coast.”
“There’s nothing wrong with trying to help people.”
“If they need it, yeah, but . . .”
“Tell me how you met Dr. Ezra Callahan.”
“Ezra? Yeah, that’s a fuckin’ crazy story.”
“I’ve got all the time in the world.” I spread my arms wide and wince. “Think I could have another pill?”
“You can have an Advil now. Maybe another pill tonight.”
“Wow, the biker being the voice of reason.”
Bolt barks out a laugh. “The last time Callahan took a slug outta me, I partied all night on the beach doin’ shots of tequila and popping oxy.”
“How’d that end up?”
“With me passed out on the sand the next day with the cops standing over me.”
“That still doesn’t explain how you first met him.”
“Six years ago, before I was with the Bastards, I was all over the place. The higher the jump, the deeper the hole, the faster the race, I was all in. I was hanging with a crew who delivered pharmaceuticals.”
“Street drugs?” I ask.
“Street drugs,” he confirms.
“And something went wrong, and he patched you up?” I venture.
“Probably not the way you think.”
“The cops raided the place where we stored the shit, and I made a run for it. Got away too, only in the scuffle, I also took a bullet in the back of my leg.” He shakes his head, remembering. “Stung like a bitch, so one of the guys I was with tried to cut it out.”
“The bullet?” I ask in shock.
“As you can imagine, that didn’t go well. Later that night, I ended up at the Seashell, sweating with a fever and trying to drown the pain in booze. Ezra saw the condition I was in, took me in the same backroom as last night, removed the bullet, and sewed me up. He said another few hours, and the infection would’ve killed me.”
“That’s both terrible and amazing.”
“Story of my life, babe.”
CHAPTER 23
