Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
They’d come in handy when we were all trying to find places to live and jobs.
Romeo had been the lone holdout in joining the MC. He’d just wanted to go his own way, which was acceptable.
The rest of us had integrated ourselves into the MC, and I found that I liked having them all at our back, even if we were still ‘technically’ prospecting with them. We were considered fully patched members, but they wouldn’t trust us until we put the work in.
Needless to say, Apollo and I couldn’t find the support that we would need to make it look like I’d always existed as Creed Justin Daugherty. A place where I wouldn’t be questioned for just showing up.
And since we’d decided that it was pretty necessary to be in a small town since smaller towns tended to have less traffic, video surveillance, and larger police departments, Sawtooth was where we were at.
Or, at least, Romeo and I were, along with Weaver and Odin. I originally was in a different town, but the Wildlife department changed my assignment, and I wanted to be closer to the job.
Pairing all of that along with Bernice’s notoriety—she’d been a very vocal girl that’d grown into an unforgiving adult that would do just about anything to see her brother free—we just couldn’t see how to get her here without garnering notice.
“Anyway, if you have any questions, you can call back up to the ER and we can answer any questions you might have.” The doctor brought me back to the present. “If you’ll follow me, we’ll get you her discharge instructions while the nurse gets her ready to go.”
I cast a glance at the woman in the bed. My first instinct was to not leave her. But I slapped that thought down.
I followed behind him as he zipped through the emergency room with the type of confidence that only someone that’d worked there for a while would have.
There were so many things going on.
People everywhere. Nurses hurrying in and out of rooms. ER techs taking vitals. Orderlies moving patients. Hell, there were even a couple of janitors cleaning up rooms.
Then there were the beds and the equipment.
My surprise must’ve been evident on my face because the doctor said, “Being a county hospital, and funding is hard to come by, we have a lot going on in a small space.”
“I can see that,” I mused as he walked right up to a long counter that spanned the back of the room and pulled some papers off the printer.
He handed them to me and said, “Pull your vehicle around and we’ll get her out to you.”
I was dismissed just like that, so I exited the ER, trying to make a wide berth around all the chaos as I headed outside to my truck.
I pulled my vehicle around just when she was wheeled out of the doors.
She shivered at the cold, and I cranked the heater up to high before I got out to help.
“Her jacket and things are in this bag,” the nurse said as she handed the large bag to me.
I opened the passenger door and shoved her things onto the floorboard before turning back to help her stand.
The nurse held on to the wheelchair as I helped Birdee to her feet and got her into the truck.
She didn’t complain once, even though I knew that the movement was jarring her head.
The grimace on her face was very apparent as I got her belted in.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
I didn’t reply, only closed the door as quietly as I could manage.
Which, admittedly, wasn’t all that soft.
I’d switched to my personal truck, and that wasn’t all that great.
When we’d moved to Montana, I’d found the first thing that looked solid.
It was a 1993 Ford with peeling paint and bucket seats that could probably use a little revamp.
But the engine was solid, the frame was great, and the tires were new.
“Thank you,” I said to the nurse.
She waved and hurried back inside.
It may not be snowing, but it was still cold as fuck out.
As I got to the driver’s side, I pulled off my jacket.
There was no way I could wear it in the cab and not suffocate with the heater on as high as it was.
I got into the truck and tossed my jacket over the center console.
She reached for it and covered herself with it, shivering slightly.
I didn’t comment as I drove out of the parking lot.
“You can just take me home and not worry about me,” she said. “I heard the doctor talking. I’m not going to make you stay.”
I looked over at her, her face glowing with each streetlight we passed.
“You hit your head really hard,” I said.
“Yeah.” She grimaced. “I know the neighbors that you were talking about earlier. They’re awful.”
Her neighborhood was smack dab in the middle of town.