He hugs me back, but his whole body just isn’t in it so I finally let go and back off.
“Doc, what’s wrong?” Grinder is up and out of bed, not a care for anyone who might walk past the bedroom, naked as the day he was born. He approaches Spencer and cups his cheek, searching his eyes for answers.
“My last call out of the shift…was an O’Malley.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Grinder
“There goes dinner.”
My brow raised, I give Parker a pointed look as she plunks down onto the end of the mattress before tucking one foot under her opposite thigh. When she crosses her arms, her bottom lip in a pout, she looks like a disgruntled brat. I like it. Maybe later I’ll wipe that pout off her face. With my cock.
“I can still taste you on my tongue, Stabby, so at least I got a nice appetizer.” Pulling my sweats up and over my sore ass cheek, I don’t bother tying the string. Then I give Spence my attention.
“Where did you pick him up?” We have no idea how many O’Malleys—or associates of—have slithered into our town, but we can pluck them out one at a time. I’m fine with that.
“A discreet club in the Oleander Mall parking lot. Someone called 9-1-1 and I got his name from his friends while we were assessing him. I never spoke to him, he was unconscious the whole time.” Spencer takes the recliner I normally use when I’m relaxing, which is never, his posture heavy, his head nearly lolling to the side. Looks like his shift was a hefty one.
“You should crash here while I take care of this.” My phone is still in the pocket of my sweatpants and when I take it out, I see a few missed calls—two from Sledge and one spammer—as well as a couple of text messages from Shade. Damn, did we fuck for over two hours? Nice.
My phone rings with a spam number, which I ignore and instead check out the influx of missed messages.
Shade: Church in an hour.
Damn, I’ve got three minutes to make it from here to there. I’ll definitely be late because I’ve got doctor’s orders not to run or do anything that might pull the stitches. I’m sure a two hour fuckfest doesn’t count.
Me: On my limpin’ way.
I’ve barely sent the message when I see the check mark telling me he’s read it.
Shade: Don’t milk it.
Pfft, as if.
Me: Bite me.
Before I head out, I send a quick text to Crow to give them a heads up at the hospital. Better to be safe than sorry.
Me: Keep Boner’s room on lockdown. Only docs and nurses. Vetted, no randoms.
“Gotta bail but y’all can cuddle or something.” I look from one to the other—eyes droopy with welcomed sleep—and immediately regret my idea because I’d love nothing more than to have them both with me as the bread to my meat.
“Like we need your permission for that.” Parker scoots over, now sitting flush against Spencer, who raises a brow at me, obviously agreeing with his new bestie.
Shaking the delicious visual out of my mind, I hop in the bathroom and brush my teeth, a mixture of different ideas fighting for my attention.
A house.
I wonder what Spencer would think about that. He’s got his apartment in town with the cat that hates every other living thing on this Earth, but he also inherited his grandmother’s cabin. That place is cool. Especially the part where Mac lost her mind for a while and tortured her brother until he died a painful and lonely death.
Shame she didn’t keep any of his teeth.
On the down side, some sad shit happened there too but I don’t linger on that memory because I’m still upset for her and Psycho.
As I spit out the toothpaste, my upper thigh buzzes where my phone is resting inside the pocket.
Crow: We got a problem?