Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Vodka, Mushroom, and a Shower
T here were always situations where Nelle found herself in a way too motherly role. If that’s what you wanted to call someone who took care of violent wounds and then had to shield her two sisters from the reality of what had happened and why.
Calista always knew. Thalia lived in an imaginary world when things got tough.
It probably explained why Nelle’s two sisters ended up living the way they did. Thalia probably saw some romantic movie about a waitress in a pizza place, who falls in love with some handsome guy and he spoils her, then she ends up buying the pizza place and everyone is fucking happy.
And for Calista, she knew. She chased drugs and cock for pleasure. Simple as that. But right now, Nelle pressed a vodka soaked cloth against the inner leg of a biker named Virus.
Next to her was a woman who was tall and really pretty. Dr. Hazel. She insisted that Nelle call her Jess.
“How’s the bleeding down there?” Jess asked.
“I’ve got it under control for now,” Nelle said. “I can apply pressure with my left hand and use my right if you need more support.”
Jess looked at Nelle. “You know your stuff. Nurse?”
“Not even close.”
“Ah, I get it. Just part of your life, huh?”
“Something like that,” Nelle said.
Virus groaned and lifted his head. He looked down at Nelle. “Hey, just want you to know something. I’m under a lot of duress right now, you know?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Nelle asked.
“My dick. I promise it’s much bigger and fuller than what it is right now.”
“Typical biker,” Jess said.
Nelle glanced forward at Slade. He looked ready to pounce and finish Virus off for good.
“Tone it down, little mushroom ,” Nelle said. “I’m mostly spoken for.”
All the guys started to chuckle.
“Are you wearing fucking ink?” Virus growled.
“You need to relax,” Jess said. “Maybe get him something else to take for the pain. Knock him out for a day or two.”
“Gladly,” Slade said, stepping forward.
Linc grabbed Slade’s shoulder and pulled him back.
“You don’t have any good stuff, Doc?” Cyrus asked with a smirk.
“No,” Jess said. “I’m not your personal outlaw pharmacy. I’ll stitch him and that’s it. If he starts bleeding again, get him to an emergency room. I haven’t even had a chance to look at his leg yet.”
Nelle picked up on the fact right away that Dr. Hazel did not enjoy being here. She was mysterious to Nelle. Probably in the same way that Nelle was mysterious to Slade. A stubborn woman with a backstory. Every biker’s worst nightmare.
Jess finished with the rib wound and then took a deep breath.
“Ready for this, Nelle?”
“Of course,” Nelle said. “I don’t know this guy. I don’t think he matters all that much here, do you?”
“Damn, you’re wicked,” Jess said.
“What the fuck?” Virus groaned. “I matter! I’m a goddamn patched in member!”
“Going to get him some meds or what?” Nelle asked, looking at Slade.
“No, sweetheart, we’re not,” Slade said. “We need intel.”
“Fuck you all,” Virus groaned.
“Just keep drinking, brother,” Linc said. “Whiskey and vodka mixed will make everything okay.”
Jess told Nelle to move the cloth off the leg wound. The second Nelle did, blood squirted out. A deep red color. Jess held up one finger and turned.
Reaching out with a bloody latex glove on her left hand, she stole the bottle of vodka from Linc and helped herself to a drink. Nelle felt her mouth open, just about ready to question if this doctor should be drinking… but then she remembered this wasn’t exactly a normal, sterilized medical setting. Guys like Virus could not just stroll into the hospital and get treatment as a normal person.
Again, nothing about this surprised Nelle at all. When Dr. Hazel offered Nelle a swig of vodka, Nelle declined.
“What’s the plan with this wound?” Nelle asked. “I think it was some kind of a ricochet thing. There’s no bullet.”
“You sure?” Jess asked.
“You’re the doctor. You want to dig around in there?”
“I’ll have to take a look no matter what,” Jess said. “Ready to get bloody?”
No, Nelle thought. She was not ready for more blood, danger or death. But there was no choice. Having her hand on the wound as the only barrier between that and having blood drain from Virus’s leg until he died… it just felt so fitting for Nelle’s life.
She looked at Slade once more.
For some reason, looking at him made her feel safe.
Nelle stood near the bar. She still had Virus’s blood on her. The entire thing absolutely freaked her out, but she remained strong, calm and confident. Dr. Hazel confirmed that there was no bullet in Virus’s leg. The outlaw was stitched up and boozed up and waiting for the appropriate painkillers when the time came.
Cyrus made everyone leave the room with the long table where the bikers had their meetings…
It would be a little bit more time before Nelle understood what the word prayer meant for SOFRAW.
Cyrus demanded Maggie pour a glass of whiskey and he handed it to Nelle. He declared to the entire clubhouse that Nelle had earned her stay in the clubhouse and earned the respect of everyone there. In other words, Nelle had bought herself another night without being bothered.
She took a sip of the whiskey, hated the taste, and then took another sip. For a second Nelle thought Cyrus wanted her to speak but he quickly changed gears and hurried after Dr. Hazel to escort her out of the clubhouse.
That’s when Slade approached her, placing a hand to the small of her back.
“You should go back to the room, sweetheart,” he whispered. “You can shower and then I’ll have Muffin bring us something to eat.”
“ Muffin ?” Nelle asked.
“Go on,” Slade said with a gentle push.
There was just something about Slade. Commanding Nelle. Giving her that little push. It worked for her. It really worked for her.
Okay, it really turned her on.
In the shower, Nelle started to laugh when she realized it was the second time she was in Slade’s shower, but the first time standing. Laughing to herself, alone, in the shower of an outlaw. In some odd way, it felt almost poetic. Or maybe Nelle was just teetering on the brink of true insanity.
In front of her on a metal holder there was a bottle of men’s shampoo and conditioner. Two products in one bottle. And then a bar of dark blue soap. Nothing that smelled like her and nothing that would clean her the way she preferred. Yet in some ways it was far better than being back above the antique store.
I’ve never truly had a home, have I? Nelle asked herself.
The question made her laughter fade. Her mood instantly crashed. She stepped into the water some more, letting the extra hot water hit her face, not wanting to know if there were tears mixed in or not. The water rushed, her skin felt hot, almost burning, the perfect temperature. A little voice in the back of her mind started to speak.
Do you realize that you just helped some doctor to —
Nelle felt a hand touch her shoulder. She jumped and let out a scream. Water collected into her mouth and she choked as she was spun around.
A hand touched her throat. Lips suddenly collided with hers. If she could talk, she’d whisper one thing.
Slade.