Page 64 of Her Possessive Bikers

"Alright," Indy stands, shooing them toward the door. "My patient needs rest. Out."

"Get well soon, old man," Jacoby grins, adjusting his sling. "We need our president back on his feet. Club's not the same without you barking orders."

"Yeah," Kyler chimes in, fidgeting with the gauze on his forehead. "Plus we need to celebrate taking down those Banditosbastards properly. Can't have a victory party without the man who made it happen."

I shift against the pillows, trying to find a position that doesn't send lightning bolts of pain through my side. "You two did the heavy lifting this time. Maybe it's time for some fresh blood in charge."

"Don't even joke about that," Jacoby scoffs. "Nobody else could handle these idiots like you do."

"Besides," Kyler adds with a rare smile, "who else would keep Jacoby in line?"

"Hey now, pretty boy. Watch it." Jacoby throws a playful punch at Kyler's shoulder.

Indy steps between them, hands on her hips. "If you two don't stop roughhousing in my patient's room, I'll throw you both out on your asses."

"Yes ma'am," they chorus, but the grins don't leave their faces.

"Sleep tight boss," Jacoby says, heading for the door. "We'll handle things till you're back."

Kyler lingers for a moment. "Thanks for… sticking around."

The words hit me right in the chest, harder than any bullet. I manage a nod, and they file out, leaving me alone with Indy and thoughts of the man whose shoes I'm trying to fill.

My body feels heavy, like I'm sinking into quicksand. The pain meds are kicking in, making everything soft around the edges. Through half-closed eyes, I watch Indy usher the boys out, her movements gentle but firm.

"Time for the president to get some actual rest," she says, closing the door behind them.

I fight against the growing darkness. There's something important I need to say, something about how she looked in that warehouse, beaten but unbroken. About how my heart stopped when I thought I might lose her.

"Indy," I call out, my voice rough with exhaustion and medication. "Wait..."

Her footsteps pause. "What is it?" The mattress dips as she sits beside me again. Her fingers brush through my hair, and I lean into her touch like a man starving.

"Don't..." The words feel thick in my mouth. "Don't go."

"Shh." Her lips press against my forehead, soft and sweet. "Don't worry, Tres. I'm not leaving you." Her hand finds mine in the darkness, squeezing gently. "And I won't ever again."

Her promise follows me down into the depths of sleep, a light in the growing darkness. The last thing I feel is her thumb tracing circles on my palm as consciousness slips away.

37

INDY

Istretch lazily on the couch beside Tres's bed, my legs tucked underneath me as I shuffle the deck of cards. The past week has felt surreal - like we're in our own little bubble away from the chaos of the clubhouse below.

"Royal flush," Tres announces with a smug grin, laying his cards on the bedside table.

"You're definitely cheating." I narrow my eyes at him. "No one's that lucky seven hands in a row."

"Maybe I'm just that good, darlin'." He shifts against the pillows, wincing slightly. "Or maybe you're just distracted by my rugged good looks."

"More like distracted by your terrible taste in movies." I nod toward the TV where some cheesy 80s action flick plays on mute. "I can't believe you made me sit through that one with the ninja cowboys yesterday."

"That's a classic!"

"That's what you said about the one with the zombie bikers."

His laugh turns into a groan and I'm instantly at his side, checking his bandages. "Easy there, tough guy. Your stitches are still fresh."

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