Page 12 of Scorched King

“That’s where you’re wrong, babe. Doctor says you’ve been ready for discharge for a week and you’ve been stalling. So it’s time to get that pretty ass out of bed and do as you’re told.”

If looks could kill, I’d at least be maimed with the one she’d leveled on me. And if I wasn’t struggling with the urge to kill Bear right now, I would have laughed. As it was, I had no rights here to be anything but possibly annoyed that she’d not told me she was ready to come home from the hospital.

I could see she wanted to argue, but I also knew she wouldn’t want to discuss her situation in front of Axel and Bear. Since we were going to have to hash this out I took matters into my own hands to save her any further embarrassment.

“Axel, you and Bear meet us at the truck. I’ll help her with her things.” Both Axel and Bear knew better than to argue, but Bear looked like he wanted to say something. However, he wisely kept his mouth shut and followed Axel out of the room. Questioning my decisions in public came with consequences and I generally liked Bear.Usually.

“You didn’t have to be so rude,” Sasha said, a frown furrowing her eyebrows.

“Babe. That wasn’t rude. We’re fucking men. We don’t have to pussyfoot around each other with our words. And I’m their president so they’re used to taking orders from me. Now get up, and let’s get you out of this hole.”

“I have to get dressed.” The expression on her face looked as stubborn as I felt. It was on the tip of my tongue to remind her that there wasn’t anything of hers that I hadn’t seen before. Fortunately, my brain kicked in just enough to keep from blurting that out. Just because I’d seen her strip and nearly fucked her brains out a time or two didn’t give me any rights. I wasn’t her man, andshewasn’t my old lady.

She belonged to the club and as such it was my responsibility to take care of her. Especially considering it was our fault she was here in the first place. Just thinking that brought that night rushing back—the smoke rising from her clothes as Axel carried her out of the building, accompanied by the sickening smell of burning flesh. That memory was going to haunt me for the rest of my life.

“I’ll wait just outside the door so you can have some privacy. But you call me when you’re done so I can carry your shit.”

I waited for her nod before I left. No matter what, I wasn’t letting her get away with not coming to me when she needed help. If I had to drill it into her head over and over, I would. The club took care of their own. And she was one of our girls. Period. It didn’t matter whether she wanted to talk to me or not. I accepted no excuses.

Leaning against her door, I looked at the walls I now knew better than I should. The hours I’d waited for her to talk ate at me. The guilt over what happened to her my constant companion, reminding me why we couldn’t be together. Not like we needed another excuse. There were too many blocks before any of this shit went down. She was too young. With her whole life ahead of her, she needed someone who could give her everything she deserved and then some.

Someone her age. Or at least someone who didn’t wake up with aching joints and a past that still bled. And definitely someone who wouldn’t make people question if he was her father.

Someone like Bear.

My whole body bristled against that. I hadn’t seen that coming. She wasn’t like the women who hung around hoping to bag a brother. In fact, I’d envisioned at some point she’d grow tired of our life and move on. With her many talents, she could easily make her own way. She loved baking. Those orange cinnamon rolls she liked best were fan-fucking-tastic. I had the extra miles on the treadmill to prove it since every time she made them I was the first in line.

I told her more than once, if she wanted to change careers we could get rich off those too. She’d laughed me off, never quite believing I was serious. And she reminded me how much she enjoyed her work at the poker club.

“You can come back in,” she called through the door.

My chest tightened hearing her voice again. I wasn’t supposed to feel this way, but I’d missed having her around. I pushed through the door and nearly swallowed my tongue at the sight of her gorgeous ass in a tight pair of jeans aimed in my direction. Seriously, how was I supposed to keep my mind out of the gutter when I saw something that perfect?

“Jesus, Sasha.”

She whirled around. “What?” And that right there was the other reason I couldn’t have her or stay away from her. She genuinely had no real perception of the effect she had on me. We. Are. Friends. I reminded myself of that for the one thousandth time.

“Never mind,” I said, shaking my head. “Where’s your shit?”

“Mybelongingsare in the closet. I don’t have shit,” she retorted, a saucy smirk on her face.

I had to bite back a laugh. Good for her. Usually I didn’t tolerate anyone questioning me, but with her, the rules seemed different. Plus, after everything she’d been through these last few weeks, it was damned good to see that sass again. So I’d give her a pass—for now.

I reached into the closet, expecting to find a whole mess of “shit” to deal with to find only a small duffel bag sitting on the floor. I bent down to retrieve it. “Is this it?” I asked, turning around. “This isn’t even as big as that purse you like to carry.”

She’d sat down on the bed with her back to me, but I didn’t have to see her face to know what was going on. I could see the slight shake of her shoulders and it broke something inside me.

“Sash,” I whispered quietly, dropping the bag at the foot of the bed and coming around to squat in front of her so that we could be eye level. “What’s going on? I didn’t mean to upset you.” Maybe I would finally discover why she refused to talk to me the last few weeks.

She shook her head as the tears she so valiantly fought to hide, slid slowly down her cheeks. “I—I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. I’m here to help you in any way I can. It’s the least I can do, so please let me.” My throat tightened watching her cry. I’d do anything to take away her pain, whether she knew it or not.

She swiped at her tears, using the cuff of her long sleeve shirt to soak them away. I didn’t blame her for her reluctance, she’d been through a lot. It hurt though. More than it should.

“I—uhm—don’t know where to go.”

“What do you mean? You’re going home to the club. Where you belong.”

---