Page 38 of Ruthless Son

“There’ll just be a sharp scratch, sorry about this.” Prepping the needle, I stood beside him, staring at the pale white scars that lined his inner arm—cutting marks.

“Pain doesn’t bother me,” he muttered, staring at the ground.

He didn’t flinch or make a move as I hooked him up to Sly, watching the trail of scarlet flow through the IV and provide Sly what he lost so much of. He would be fine, he would live, and he’d owe a debt of gratitude to Threads, a man whose past was as dark as the night.

The clock ticked by. Some of the brothers trailed off, hitting their beds as there was nothing they could do here while Sly slept. Threads still sat alongside Sly, in the armchair shoved over to be convenient, the IV still pushing his beautiful universal blood supply to the man who so desperately needed it. Taking a deep breath, I pulled off my gloves and chucked them in the pile of red towels, needing so badly to take a shower and close my eyes. But I had a patient relying on me, so unfortunately, I wouldn’t be getting any shut eye yet.

The bitter smell of coffee perfumed the air with its perfection, and I sniffed gratefully as Rex handed me a steaming mug of creamy goodness.

“You remembered,” I muttered, taking a sip.

“I remembered you like some coffee with your hot milk,” he replied, sitting opposite me on the edge of the coffee table, his hands gripping his own brew.

“Thank you,” Rex whispered, taking his eyes across the white gauze that wrapped around his shoulder, “for saving him.”

“Well, I may have saved his life, but we won’t know the extent of the damage for a while,” I started, telling him my worries as I’d patched him up. “The bullet exited his scapula—or his shoulder blade for the less medically inclined,” I explained. “He’ll need extensive physical therapy to gain full mobility, if he even gets the full use of it back… I’m not sure.”

“Will he be able to ride?” My chest squeezed at the stark look of worry on his face. “He won’t survive if he can’t ride.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine, Sly is young and healthy… strong.” I reached over and grasped his free hand, the uncertainty rolled off my tongue. I didn’t want to lie to him and say he would make a full recovery and gain the full use of his arm again. But I couldn’t give him the truth either, not with how anxious he looked worrying about his friend. The truth was, he might never be able to lift his arm again, what that meant for riding a bike… I had no idea.

But until we knew anything for sure, I would keep my thoughts to myself. Because Rex and the other men had enough to worry about at the moment.

Tonight had been linked to Margot. And if I had to hazard a guess, the same people who murdered a little old lady tried to take out the Street Kings, injuring Sly in the process.

“You’re close,” I said, shaking off my worrisome thoughts.

“We’re brothers.” He sipped at the hot drink, his eyes fixed on the rise and fall of Sly’s chest. “Not by blood, but in every way that counts. We prospected at the same time, got sworn in at the same time too. We did everything together… still do.”

His gaze turned inward as he recalled times the two of them had got into trouble together. Pranks and chaos and problems that two teenage boys had thought was hilarious at the time. “Surprised more daddies didn’t chase us out of town with shotguns.” He smirked before the smile fell from his face and the light left his eyes.

“They tried to kill my brother tonight. They put a bullet in him and I have to live with the fact that I couldn’t stop it. What if… what if he can’t use his arm… what if…”

“There’s no use in thinking the shoulda, woulda, couldas. Sly’s alive, you got him home, that’s all that counts.” His head dropped forward, a loose tendril falling free from his bun and brushing against his jaw. My fingers twitched with the urge to brush it off his face, to touch him and ease some misplaced guilt that rode his shoulders.

“You should get some rest, princess,” Rex said quietly, his eyes soft with tenderness as he raked his eyes over me. “I can watch Sly from here, and I’ll get you when he wakes up.”

At that moment, a yawn cracked me wide open, taking me by surprise, the fatigue weighing down on me from the day’s stress.

“Go on,” Rex encouraged, squeezing my hand the same way I’d offered comfort to him before. “I’ll keep watch over your patient.”

Dragging myself to my feet, I shuffled to the hallway, intent on crashing as soon as I hit the pillow. I wanted to sit with Rex, the urge to stay by his side was almost overwhelming my common sense. But I knew I wouldn’t be much help to Sly in my tired state. My eyes were starting to blur, and I wanted to yawn after every sentence—I was almost dead on my feet. So with one final glance at my biker, I walked out and gave no more thought to the men standing guard over their fallen brother.

Slipping into Rex’s empty room, I changed into my pajamas and scrubbed my teeth, before dropping face down on the bed and scrabbling beneath the covers to keep warm.

The problem was, my body was tired, but my mind was on overdrive, wired from the makeshift surgery and adrenalin of the evening.

In times like these, I’d have BOB to help me through it, to help me relax and get me off to dreamland. Unfortunately, I didn’t have my little friend with me, it wasn’t something you’d think to pack when rushing off to another country to help your sister. In hindsight, it should have been the first thing I packed, especially with the amount of stress this trip was causing me.

Part of that stress had to do with a big blue-eyed trouble maker. Rex was making it extremely hard to stay on track and focus on my reason for being here in the first place.

I’d never been ruled by my body, and now I felt like a hormonal teenage girl every time his gaze landed on mine. His scent was intoxicating, and being around him was a danger to my senses.

The familiar rush of warmth hit my core as I lay in his bed, his presence wrapping around me as I slipped my hand beneath the band of my shorts. My fingers brushing against my soft curls had my heartbeat picking up tempo, imagining Rex’s hand doing the touching.

I envisioned him earlier, looming over me, the brush of his lips on my forehead… and my hand slipped lower, lower to dip into the wetness, then brought my middle finger up to rub against my clit. Gasping aloud, I bit down on my bottom lip, pulling it between my teeth as I circled the tight nub, sending sparks of lightning shooting through my entire body. I closed my eyes and gave up to the sensations. Rex was the main character in my fantasies as I worked myself up, the ultimate ending getting closer and closer…

Rex

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