Page 37 of The Queen of Nightmares

I thought of the tea that Jack used to make me every morning, and my heart gave a painful twist in my chest. "No," I said a little too loudly, then lowered my tone. "No, thank you. I'm good for now, Helen. I appreciate your concern, though."

Helen smiled sadly and then pulled open the door to step out. The prospect at the door glanced into the room when it opened. When he saw my eyes on him, he quickly looked away, his head turning to look forward again. The last thing I saw was him pulling his phone out of his pocket to text who I knew would be Barrel with an update.

After another hour of listening to the monitors, I finally decided I had to get up. My bladder had been screaming at me for the last thirty minutes. As I headed into the ensuite bathroom, my stomach rumbled in protest of being empty for too long. I wasn't even sure what time it was, but I figured it had to be close to dinner time.

After I washed my hands, I stepped back into the room while stretching out my aching back. I held a faint glimmer of hope that Doc would have woken up in the few minutes I had been away from his side. That glimmer died a quick death once I saw absolutely nothing had changed.

I walked over to the bedside and slid a finger over Jack's President patch before whispering to Doc. "I'm going to go down to the cafeteria for a sandwich. I'll be right back, though. Okay?" I sighed when there was no response, just the continuous steady beeping of the machines he was hooked up to. I tucked Jack's cut close to Doc's side.

Opening the door had the prospect quickly straightening up in his seat and tucking his phone away.

"There's no change," I muttered, walking past him. "I'm heading to the cafeteria for a quick bite to eat." I paused. "Do you want me to grab you anything while I'm there?"

"A coffee would be great. Black, thanks." He pulled out his wallet and held out a few bills. I tried to wave him off, but he shoved the money into my hand. "I insist. And use that money to pay for your food, too."

I didn't have the energy to argue with him, so I just nodded and mumbled my thanks. I continued on to the bank of elevators and waited for one of them to arrive. Once the doors closed behind me, I leaned against the back wall of the empty elevator and watched the numbers slowly tick down.

When the doors slid back open with a ding, I moved forward, having to dodge a nurse who was in an obvious hurry. On my way to the cafeteria, I noticed the sign for the gift shop and decided to take a small detour. I hoped it could take my mind off everything horrible in my life for just a few minutes.

The shop was typical of what I had come to expect from the town of Pumpkin Patch. Grinning jack o'lanterns filled the small store. Everything from T-shirts to glass figurines was pumpkin or Halloween themed. I shook my head as I walked around another display and stopped.

Baby items filled the corner shelves. I had found the section of the shop meant for newborn baby gifts. I reached out and stroked the soft fur of a stuffed blue rabbit. Next to the rabbit was a lamb holding a pink satin heart with the word "girl" written across it. My hands itched to pick up the stuffed animals and cradle them to my chest. Instead, I backed away from the display.

"Is there anything I can do to help you, miss?"

I jerked my head to the side to see an older woman with gray hair piled up in a bun on top of her head and reading glasses hanging from a chain around her neck. She was wearing a smock with another pumpkin on the front. I could have sworn I had seen the same one hanging by one of the shelves.

I shook my head. "No. Thank you, though. I was just looking."

The woman gave me a sympathetic look, and I turned my head away so I couldn't see it. For the first time since I left Kentucky, I suddenly missed my mom. I walked to the entrance but paused before leaving. "Have a merry Christmas," I said softly.

I heard her say just as softly, "You, too, dear."

As I headed to the cafeteria, I pulled out my phone. My finger hovered over the name on the display before I took a deep breath and touched the screen to dial.

ChapterTwenty-Eight

THE QUEEN OF NIGHTMARES

Isat at the desk staring at the paperwork I knew Jack would need done. Jack's cut was sitting to the side, within easy reach. Running my fingertips over the bloodied lettering had become a habit I didn't want to break. It was comforting in a strange, perhaps even morbid way I couldn't explain.

Zero sat near my feet on the blanket from the couch. Jack's lingering scent was there, but it was beginning to fade. I knew Zero missed Jack as much as I did, so I passed the throw blanket to him, hoping it would help. I wasn't sure it did, though, by the way he would often let out a random whine.

It had been three days since Doc had been shot, and he still hadn't woken up. When I had gotten up on the couch that morning and walked to the front door of the clubhouse, expecting to be given a ride to the hospital, Barrel had stood there with his arms crossed over his chest and a determined expression on his stubborn face.

"You're not going to spend all day at the hospital today. I'll take you later for a couple of hours, but today, you're going to do literally anything else, Red."

I stared him down for several long seconds in silence, neither one of us blinking, before finally turning around to head back down the hallway. "Your roots are showing," I mumbled as I returned to the office. I ignored the gasp of outrage as I thought of the paperwork I had neglected the last couple of days. I knew exactly how to spend my day.

I walked straight to the desk. Before I sat down, I took the gun out of my pocket and placed it next to Jack's vest. Then, I rolled the chair closer and got to work.

* * *

The door opened quietly, and someone slipped inside, shutting the door behind them with a click. I internally groaned that I had forgotten to lock it behind me when I'd returned to the office after breakfast with the guys out front. I had a lot of work to do to keep Jack caught up on his businesses, and it was proving to be a great distraction. I didn't need to be disturbed by one of the well-meaning club brothers wanting to check if I was alright for the hundredth time.

It wasn't until I heard the voice that my blood ran icy cold, and dread slithered up my spine.

"Ah, finally, my patchwork doll. I have come for you, my dear. Aren't you going to greet your father?"

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