Page 45 of Property of Bob

And every member of the Kings of Anarchy seemed to be watching the shadows.

I had come to Skull Island because I thought my problems were getting too dangerous to handle alone. I was starting to wonder if I’d driven straight into something a hell of a lot more dangerous.

Whatever was happening with the Kings, I hoped like hell it stayed away from me.

Chapter Four

Bob

I stared at the ceiling over my hospital bed and listened to Cross and Anchor talk about something happening with the haunted house while I tried not to lose my fucking mind.

Again.

The doctor had been in earlier. Physical therapy had been in before that. A nurse had taken my blood pressure, checked my throat, asked about my pain, and then reminded me to call before I tried getting out of bed.

As if I hadn’t heard that same shit twenty times already.

I understood why everyone was hovering. I did. Didn’t mean I had to like it.

My body had taken one hell of a beating. I wasn’t stupid enough to pretend otherwise. Standing for more than five minutes still made my legs feel like they’d forgotten what their fucking job was. Getting from the bed to the bathroom left me breathing harder than it should. My throat hurt constantly, and talking too much made it worse.

But every day was better.

I was eating. I was talking. I could move everything I was supposed to move. I wasn’t hooked up to half the machines I’d been hooked up to when I woke up.

I didn’t need to be here anymore.

The doctors had differing opinions, depending on which one walked into my room.

One wanted another couple days.

Another had started talking about sending me home soon as long as I had someone there around the clock.

Physical therapy wanted me stronger first.

I wanted all of them to fuck off.

Anchor leaned against the windowsill with his arms crossed while Cross sat in the chair Skull usually occupied. Skull had gone back to the clubhouse this morning, which was where he belonged. All of them belonged there.

Not sitting around this damn hospital waiting for me to need help reaching a cup of water.

I shifted against the pillows.

Cross glanced over. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

I looked at him.

His mouth twitched.

“Everybody in this club suddenly psychic?” I grunted.

“No. You’re just obvious when you’re pissed,” Cross chuckled.

“I’ve been pissed for weeks.” I couldn’t even remember how many days I had been in this fucking hospital. I just knew I needed to get out.