Page 24 of Reacher's Ride or Die

“Are you having chest pains?” Hex asked.

“Yeah, but it’s probably just indigestion,” Savage insisted. Bowie was right—the guy was stubborn as hell.

“Do you have problems with acid reflux or indigestion usually?” Hex asked.

“No,” Savage mumbled.

“Have you eaten anything today?” Hex asked.

“Nope,” Savage said, as though he was proud of the fact that he had totally skipped breakfast.

“You told me that you had breakfast,” Bowie said. “Dallas is going to fucking kill you.” Hex knew that Dallas was their wife. Savage and Bowie were in a polyamorous relationship and it really seemed to work for the three of them. From what he had heard from the other guys in the club, Savage had a shit ton of kids.

“Upset stomach at all?” Hex asked.

“Yep, and that’s why I haven’t had anything to eat,” Savage defended.

“Listen, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Bowie is right, you need to go to the ER to get checked out,” Hex said. “If I had my medical bag with me, I’d be able to do a more thorough job, but it’s in my pickup and I rode my bike here today.”

“And if I refuse to go?” Savage asked, defiantly raising his chin at Hex. It was almost comical to watch the big guy put his foot down.

“As a doctor, I’ll need to insist. I’d have to call an ambulance, and it would turn into a whole thing,” Hex said. “If you just let Bowie drive you there, I can follow behind to help get you into the emergency room faster. It’s for your own good, Savage. Think of your family—would you want your kids growing up without one of their parents?” Hex asked.

“Now, you’re just being an asshole,” Savage growled.

Hex shrugged, “Maybe, but you need to do this, and I’ll use whatever leverage I have to in order to get you there.” Bowie smiled at Hex and nodded his thanks. He was going to have to make a quick phone call once he got to the hospital to let his boss know that he was going to be late, but technically, this wasa medical emergency, so he really couldn’t fault him for making sure that Savage was in good hands before leaving him at the ER.

“Fine,” Savage grumbled, “but if I do this, we’re going to need to ask one of the guys to mind the bar tonight. Harley can’t do it all on her own.” Hex wasn’t sure why, but he agreed to help out before he knew that the words were coming out of his mouth. Maybe it was because he was so new to the Royal Bastards, or maybe it was because he just liked helping people, but he agreed to help manage things at Savage Hell if Savage agreed to get checked out at the hospital.

“Thanks, man,” Bowie said. “You sure you’ve got time to follow us to the hospital?”

“Yeah, I’ve got some PTO and sick leave. I can take the day off if necessary. Plus, if something happens on the way to the ER, I’ll be right there to help.”

“Nothing is going to fucking happen,” Savage spat, standing from the sofa. The big guy looked like he might topple over, and Bowie and Hex flanked his sides. “I’m a bit dizzy,” he admitted.

“All the more reason to get you checked out, man,” Hex said. Savage was definitely suffering some health issues; he just hoped like hell that he was wrong about it being his heart—and that he had gotten to Savage in time to help him.

Harley

Harley was excited about Halloween this year. For the first time in her life, she had her own apartment and could actually decorate for the holiday. Halloween had always been her favorite time of year, but her foster mom didn’t like anything about it. She told Harley that Halloween was Satan’s favorite day of the year and when Harley would roll her eyes at her foster mother, she’d have to endure both verbal and physical abuse until her so-called mom was satisfied that she had learned her lesson. She had never been trick-or-treating. The only thing she knew about it was that kids dressed up and ran from house to house to get candy. She used to watch those kids out of her bedroom window until her foster mother caught her and made her go to sleep while she stood in Harley’s room to make sure that she did just that.

But this year, things will be different. Harley was finally making enough money down at the club, tending bar, and she planned on buying a ton of candy to hand out to the kids in her neighborhood. She just hoped that they actually had trick-or-treaters at her little apartment complex. Harley even had a costume picked out and even though she knew that the sluttynurse costume was perfect for the party down at Savage Hell, while she tended bar, it wasn’t going to work for handing out candy to kids. So, she decided to get a second costume—one a bit more kid-friendly, and what kid wouldn’t love a pirate giving them handfuls of sugar? If she planned everything out, she’d be able to hand out candy to kids and quickly change before heading to the bar for her shift.

By the time she got down to Savage Hell, the place was humming from the inside out. The guys liked to listen to their music a bit loud, and she swore that some nights, she could feel the base of the music in her soul as she walked into the place. It was just her working the bar tonight, but Savage and Bowie would be around to help out if things got too busy or too rowdy. Harley had gotten used to the guys hitting on her, but she had learned a long time ago that you should never shit where you eat. She knew that dating a biker wouldn’t work out for her in the end, so she turned every one of their offers down.

She walked in through the back door and put her stuff in the kitchen, waving to the cook. She usually kept to herself as much as possible, and he seemed to respect that about her. Harley grabbed her apron and tied it around her waist before heading out to the bar to start her shift. She stopped dead when she found a guy standing in her spot, talking on his cell phone. Her number one rule was no club members behind the bar. She was lucky that Savage didn’t seem to mind her making a few of her own rules around the place, and the big, tattooed biker was breaking her number one rule.

“Excuse me,” she said, tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention. He was wearing his cut with the RBMC patch on the back, so she knew he had to be a patched-in member, but she had never seen him at the bar before—not that she knew every guy that walked in, but she knew most of them.

“Hold on, Savage,” he said into his cell, lowering it from his ear. “Can I help you?” he asked.

“Yeah, you’re not supposed to be behind my bar, yet here you are,” Harley spat, looking him over. If she wasn’t completely pissed off by the guy, she’d find him to be just her type—but that was a moot point since she didn’t date club members.

“Your bar?” he repeated.

“My bar,” she said again. Maybe the poor guy was hard of hearing or something. Hell, she was going deaf from the damn music, but turning it down only seemed to piss the bikers off, and then, her tips would suffer. She didn’t need that now that she had her own place to pay for.

“Oh, you must be Harley,” the biker said. He held out his hand to her and she looked at it as though it had offended her in some way. “I’m Hex,” he said.

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