Read Online Damaged & Dangerous: The Sacred Hearts MC Book VI by A. J. Downey - Free Book Online

of
tape holding the plastic of the IV in place against my skin. The second thing?
I wasn’t alone in my bed. A strong, muscled arm curved over the top of my
waist, the back of my body snug against a hard body that was putting off an
amazing amount of heat.
    I searched my memory for who it could be and came up empty.
All I knew was that I’d been so close to being free of the nightmare I’d
been living and someone had pulled me back from the brink of that
beautiful oblivion. I choked, and bit down on a sob, and whoever it was that
had a hold on me jolted.
    “Shhhh, s’okay, Dani.” The voice was warm and gentle and not Pig’s. Warm, soft lips pressed to my skin on the back of my shoulder, where
the neckline of the tee I was wearing didn’t quite cover. I sucked in a breath
and a broken cry of such crushing defeat escaped my mouth, and I doubled in on
myself.
    Why!? Why do you hate me so much!? I silently asked
God, but as always there was no answer.
    “Oh Baby, I’m so sorry.” The arm around me drew me back and
held me close and I cried, broken and bitter at still being alive. I couldn’t
cry forever, though, and my bladder was screaming for relief. I still didn’t
know who held me fast but I’d learned a long time ago that who didn’t
matter so much, especially when it came to the Suicide Kings. Though
truthfully, whoever had me was being both kind and gentle, and it was a mark of
how damaged I’d become that it was that which was scaring me more than
being in a stranger’s arms.
    “I’m going to let you go. You have to promise me you won’t
rip out your IV. You promise?” the voice was familiar but the face that went
along with it was eluding me. The arm locked around my middle eased off and I
sat up abruptly, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, my feet making
contact with the old, worn hardwood of my bedroom floor.
    “Easy, Rocket.” The voice soothed and I stiffened, turning
my head slowly.
    “ Thirteen? ” I asked, not quite believing. But sure
enough, there he was, shirtless, with his head propped in his hand, smiling
that roguish smile at me.
    “How’s my patient?” a grizzled voice asked from my bedroom
door and I whipped my head so fast in that direction, to face the new possible
threat, that the ends of my hair lashed the half-naked Prospect behind me.
    “Who the fuck are you?” I asked. The man harrumphed.
    “I’m yer doctor,” he said. He looked like one, sort of. Soft
brown shoes, khaki Dockers, blue button down shirt… except his head was shaved
and he had a gray and white handlebar mustache.
    “Why thank you, Doc, for saving my life!” he mocked and I
smoothed my long hair behind my ears, pulling it tight with my distress.
    “I didn’t ask you to do that!” I snapped. He leaned a
shoulder against the doorjamb and raised an eyebrow at Thirteen behind me. I
stood up abruptly and swayed on my feet, black spots and weird color bursts
flashing in my vision. I felt extremely light headed and Thirteen was just
suddenly there, standing behind me, a solid wall of man at my back, his hands
on my waist gently supporting me.
    “Easy, Girl,” the doctor intoned. “You were so dehydrated we
almost lost you, you got pneumonia, you’re weak; who the fuck knows when you
last ate… You need to take it slow.” He sounded genuinely concerned and when I
looked, his blue eyes had lost their hard edge.
    “I really have to pee,” I said hollowly.
    “K, c’mon, I’ll help you,” Thirteen murmured just above my
shoulder. I looked up at him.
    “How’d you know where I live?” I asked.
    “Bathroom first, then there will be plenty of time for
conversation. Doc?” The doctor came forward and gently grasped my wrist,
turning my arm out.
    “Keep it straight for me?” he asked and I nodded. He
unhooked the line and capped the thing in my arm, with quick and sure
precision. They’d brought my granddad’s old coat rack in here and my bedside
trashcan had three of the empty saline