Page 79 of Q: Satan's Fury MC

We’d met at the club’s Thanksgiving dinner. I could tell right away that Doc was a great guy, so I wasn’t surprised that he seemed genuinely concerned about me. “I’ve been better.”

“Looks like you got a pretty nasty hit to the head. Have you experienced any dizziness or nausea?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“It’s probably a mild concussion. You’ll need to take it easy for a couple of days.” He continued to look me over, then, after several minutes, he said, “You’re gonna have a couple of nasty bruises, but nothing that won’t heal.”

“Okay.”

“I’m giving you some pain medication. You can take it every four to six hours. Just let me know if you need something stronger.” He handed me a couple of ice packs, then turned to Hayes as he said, “Take her down to Q’s room. She can rest there until... She can rest there.”

“Speaking of Q, do you happen to know where he is?”

“He’s, um... He’s tied up at the moment. He’ll be back when he can.”

I could tell by looking at him that he wasn’t being completely forthright with me, but I was in no state of mind to push. So, I thanked him for his help and followed Hayes down to Quinton’s room. He helped me to bed, then grabbed a couple of bottles of water and put them on the bedside table.

Seconds later, I was lying in bed alone, and it wasn’t long before the tears started to fall. Once they started, they didn’t stop. I cried for hours and was about to fall asleep when Quinton crawled into bed next to me.

I’d asked him where he’d been and why he hadn’t answered my calls, but like Doc, he gave me some excuse about doing something with the club. It was hard not to be a little hurt that he’d ditched me for his brothers. It was that hurt feeling that had me playing possum when I felt him stirring in the bed next to me.

He stretched and groaned, then groaned some more as he sat up on the side of the bed. There were plenty of mornings when he made odd sounds, but this morning was different. He sounded like he was in pain, so I rolled to my side and asked, “Is something wrong?”

“No, I’m good.” He kept his back to me as he asked, “What about you?”

“A little better.”

“Good.”

He let out another deep, pained breath, and I knew then something wasn’t right. “Quinton, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, babe. Just a little stiff this morning.”

“Why won’t you look at me?”

“Just taking a minute to work out the kinks.”

“Quinton,” I pushed, but he still didn’t move, which made me wonder if his aversion was with me and not his so-called kinks. “Okay, fine. Don’t look at me. I wouldn’t want to look at me, either. I’m sure I look like hell.”

With that, I tossed the covers back and inched over to the end of the bed. When I stood, my head started to throb, but I ignored it and forced myself to take a step toward the bathroom. I didn’t get very far before Quinton reached for me and said, “Jules, stop.”

Intending to blast him, I turned and immediately froze.

His beautiful face was covered in bruises, his eyes were puffy and red, and there were bandages on his thighs. “Quinton! What happened to you?”

“Nothing,” he lied. “I’m fine.”

“You are far from fine.” I rushed over and took a closer look. “Who did this to you?”

“I can’t get into it.” Emotion filled his eyes as he told me, “All I can tell you is it’s the reason I wasn’t able to answer your call last night.”

“So, this had something to do with the club.”

He didn’t answer.

He didn’t have to.

I could tell by the expression on his face that I was spot on. I just didn’t understand why he wouldn’t talk to me about it. And then, I remembered the conversation we’d had about the club and all its rules. The brothers weren’t allowed to discuss club business with anyone, especially with the ol’ ladies. “So, this is one of those club things, huh?”

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