“From what I know of the club, I don’t think that would be enough to save my job,” he returns.
I sigh. He’s probably right.
“This is ridiculous,” I grumble. “Come on in, but can we try and make it quick? I need to go check on my daughter.”
“Sure thing. You have a child?” he asks, following me in.
“A little girl. She just turned two. Gabby. She’s my reason for living.” He probably thinks those are just pretty words, but for me, it’s the total truth.
“I have a son myself. He just turned three. They sure make life better.”
“That, they do,” I agree, looking around and finally sitting at the foot of the bed. “I’m not sure what you’re supposed to examine. I had a headache earlier, but I’m fine now.”
He puts his bag on the nightstand and pulls out a stethoscope and a few other items from it, arranging them.
“Do you get a lot of headaches?” he asks while using an instrument to check my temperature by clicking it in my ear.
“Occasionally I get migraines. I don’t sleep well. Old ghosts…”
“I understand. I had the same problem when I first got divorced. Hard to get used to an empty bed and a quiet house.”
“You don’t have custody of your son?”
“Joint. I get him every second week of the month. It works for now, but we will have to work something out when Chase starts school. Helen and I have talked about it. I’m sure we will sort it out eventually.”
“You get along well with your ex? That’s good. Skull and I barely talk to each other,” I admit with a sigh, feeling tired.
“Your ex’s name is Skull? A lady who lives on the wild side.” He laughs. “Tell me where your headaches start.”
He’s standing over me. If I reach a certain way, my hand will hit him. So I reach up over my shoulder to show him the place at the back of my neck where the pain usually starts. I jump when his cold hand touches the back of my neck, partly because it’s cold and partly because it’s been so long since any man has touched me, no matter how innocently. Single mothers rarely have time to go to the doctor; we usually work through being sick.
“That’s me. Wild Beth.” I laugh, trying to get comfortable, but he does something with his hand around my neck and it pops. There’s a moment of pain, but then he pushes down with his hand and I swear I think my toes actually curl. “Oh my God, whatever you’re doing, don’t stop.” I laugh again and he joins in this time.
Then, the door slams.
“Who the fuck are you and why do you have your hands on my wife?”
I tense up when I see Skull, who looks like he’d like to tear the doctor’s head from his body. When his eyes move down to meet mine, I wonder if he wouldn’t like to do the same to me.
Then I recall his words.
His wife?
I’m fucked up after everything Pistol told me—and didn’t tell me. I got Beast and Torch to help drag the body into a truck and we buried him where no one but the crows will find him. We threw in some lime and a few other things to help make sure the dead stay dead, so to speak. Out of all of my men, I figure the safest two to lean on are Beast and Torch, but who the hell knows anymore. It’s clear that I have lost my edge when it comes to judging a man.
For that reason alone, I haven’t told any of the men yet what the bastard Pistol told me, though I can tell Torch knows something is up. If they were shocked by the shape Pistol was in, they didn’t tell me. Torch kept giving me strange looks all the way back. I don’t know what the motherfucker is thinking, but I’m sure the fact that Pistol just tipped me further into madness shows somehow.
Fuck, I feel as if there’s something under my skin crawling to get out. I’m so consumed by anger inside, I don’t think I’ll ever find my way out. I’m starting to think the darkness will claim me. I reach up and scratch the back of my shoulder, digging my fingers in so there’s pain. Fuck, I might have even drawn blood. I hope I did. I need to mark or scar myself somehow. That way, the outside will match the inside.
I need to figure out what I’m going to do with… everything. The club, the traitors, Beth… fuck, even Teena. I may not have fucked her for a year, but I keep calling on her to help me. That’s not right. Especially with Beth around now. I don’t know what I’m going to do with Beth, but the thought of her being tortured while she was in France… She made some fucked up choices, but she’s right: I did in the beginning, too. Jesus. I need to cut Teena out completely if I keep Beth here.