Rubi shrugged. “Fuck all. I asked him for a favour and he said yes.”
“You trust this dude?”
“You don’t recognise him?”
“Should I?”
“I’d say so, Nashie. He’s the A&E doc who treated River and Embry.”
Still didn’t click for me, but I’d run out of time to think about it. The doctor reached us. Hot dude in his forties, well-built and strong, a no-nonsense look in his eye that let me know he didn’t give a single shiny shite that he’d just walked onto an MC compound.
“How many patients?”
“Two.” Fuck it. If he was here, he could check out Viktor too. “They’re in there.”
“Lead the way.”
Like Folk, this dude had an air about him that commanded instant respect.
I guided him into the bunkhouse.
Folk had vanished, leaving Locke still leaning against the wall.
The doctor scanned the room. Made the logical decision and moved to Viktor first, pointing at the bench while he addressed Locke. “Take a seat. I’ll be with you next.”
Locke seemed bemused. But if he was alarmed by the abrupt appearance of someone he’d never met, it didn’t show. He shuffled to the bench and sat down, leading me to believe the doctor was clearly a sorcerer, as I’d been living that literal stand-off for the last two hours.
I moved around the bench to loiter behind him, planting my hands on his shoulders for my comfort as much as his, giving the doctor space to work on Viktor.
His name was Marc and he hadquestions. And a request. “Can you stand your guard dog down?”
Oops. Lida had been so quiet and still that I kept forgetting she was there.
Locke called her. She came without blinking and sat by his feet as he answered the doc’s medical enquiries about Viktor, gifting me more horrific insight into the events of the past week.
My skin crawled as he described—vaguely—what they’d been through to make it home. Somehow, it had escaped my awareness that the wild ride me and Folk had taken to get here was a journey Locke and Viktor had made on foot. And they’d swum the river. That mad fucking rush of water me and Saint had been so sure no fucker would survive. Jesus Christ. I swear to God, I felt faint picturing Locke anywhere near it.
“Do you have a way of obtaining medications?”
Marcwas talking to me. I found my brain somewhere on the floor and gave it a shake. “Yeah. We can?—”
“I don’t need details.” He held up a gloved hand. “I’m going to give you a list when we’re done here. If you have any issues getting them, we’ll need a more official conversation.”
Official wasn’t a word we could navigate right now, especially without Cam here to make the decisions. But I let it go. We hadn’t got this far without some of us being gold-star burglars, though if Saint didn’t come back soon, I’d have to ask River, and that was a conversation I wanted to have as much as I wanted Locke’s injured arm to drop off.
The doc finished with Viktor and gave us the good news. “That hip looks surgical. The rest of it is a waiting game, but I’m advising IV antibiotics if you can make that happen.”
I nodded. “You have a pen?”
“Get your own.”
Marc sent me a subtle look and I got the message. He’d read the room and deduced that Locke was going to be a lot easier to handle if I fucked off somewhere else.
It pained me to leave him. Like, physically wrenched my heart. I squeezed his shoulders and dropped an absent kiss to his shower-wet hair.
Then I stepped away. “I’ll be back.”
I left the bunkhouse.