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

antibiotics through it, then set out an orange bottle of pills on
the table beside me.
    “What’s that?” I asked.
    “More antibiotics. Three times a day. Morning, mid, and
night. You should be fine in seven to ten days. If you’re not all better, have
R.T. here call me.”
    I frowned, “R.T.?” I asked.
    Thirteen, who had taken up the doctor’s place at my bedroom
door, smiled, “Red-Thirteen. It’s what I been called since I was a kid. People
usually shorten it somehow. Red, usually, but if there’s another ‘Red’ around I
get tagged with Thirteen or just R.T.” 
    “Oh, I guess I’m just used to the guys calling you Thirteen
or Pretty-boy.” The doctor arched a brow.
    “Pretty-boy huh? I’m gonna have to remember that one,” he
chuckled, “Time for me to get going. You take care of yourself, Rocket,” he
said.
    “Dani. My name is Dani,” I said and the doctor smiled.
    “Dani,” he repeated, nodded, and slipped out the bedroom door.
Thirteen saw him out of my apartment and came back to sit on the foot of my bed
while I ate.
    “Hope you don’t mind. I used your washer and dryer while you
were out cold.” I shook my head and took the spoon out of my mouth, swallowing
the soup, which was perfect. The good kind you got in the plastic tubs at the
grocery store, full of big noodles, carrots, and celery.
    “Why did you come here, anyways?” I asked before taking
another bite. He smoothed a hand over the blankets covering my foot and shin,
massaging my foot through the covers absently.
    “Pig-Pen sent me over here.” He got up and came back with a
Crown Royal bag and I held out my hand for it excitedly. I know it was wrong,
that these things had been stolen from their rightful owners; but still, my
ability to create, to make things the way my grandfather had taught me, that
was mine and the only small source of joy I really had left.
    “What is all this stuff?” he asked me, holding the bag out
of reach. I tried to set the tray and soup aside and he held the bag up and
said, “Ah, ah, ah eat your soup and then you get the goods.” His green-blue
eyes held a sparkle of mischief and I settled back, nodding, and ate the rest
of my soup and the crackers, which was good. The salt sort of burned my lips
where they were cracked and I took a drink of water from the glass on the
bedside table. He set the stolen jewelry pieces on the nightstand and took the
bowl and spoon to the kitchen, knowingly leaving the tray behind. When he came
back I was already sorting through pieces.
    “There’s a workbench in the living room, I know you’ve seen
it. If you bring me the jeweler’s loop from it, I’ll tell you what this is
about. But you have to swear to me Thirteen! You have to promise you
won’t tell Pig I told you anything!” He roved my face with troubled eyes and
nodded.
    When he came back with the loop in his hand, he wore a
heather gray tee shirt. I was surprised to find that his putting on a shirt
actually disappointed me a little. I was even more surprised to find that I had
rather been enjoying the view of his body. I pushed those thoughts away and
held out my hand for the loop. He went to hand it to me, but pulled it back at
the last second.
    “Explain.” He raised his red-gold eyebrows and retook his
seat at the foot of my bed. I set the ring in my fingers down on the tray.
    “The club runs and sells drugs,” I said, and I could see
that he already knew that. There was no surprise on his face. “My grandfather
was Philip Broussard.” That did raise his eyebrows. I frowned, “You know the
name?”
    “I’m not blind, Rocket. It’s the name on the jewelry
storefront downstairs.”
    I blushed. “Um, right… anyways, my dad couldn’t take care of
me. My mom, either. Drugs, apparently, and so when I was two I ended up in the
care of my grand-père .” He smiled at the French pronunciation. “He was a
custom jeweler from France, it was a family thing; his father’s father taught
his