Page 12 of Property of Doc

I have three KitchenAid mixers, multiple molds for cake pops and cakesicles, bags to wrap them in along with a seal press and label maker, plus all the almond bark, flavors, boxes of cake mix, plastic forks, parchment paper, and boxes that I package the completed items in before I sell them. One whole room of my apartment was devoted to this endeavor, and I see when it dawns on Doc that this wasn’t just a little hobby for me.

Giggling, I put my hand on his arm. “If you’ll get me some boxes, I’ll pack all of this up so I know what’s what, and we can figure out where it should go when we get back to the clubhouse. I mean, I don't wanna upset the ladies since they’re the reason I’m slowly putting weight back on, after all.”

He shakes his head as he leans in and brushes his lips over mine. “That sounds like a sensible plan to me. Let me get Monkey and Mutt to pick up some storage boxes. You may as well start packing your shit so we can get your apartment emptied.”

Doc is one of the most frustrating, aggravating, upsetting men I’ve ever met! He steamrolled over my protests and in less than a day, my place was packed up with the majority of it being put into one of the barns they use for storage, while the rest is now in Doc’s room.

Right now, chaos makes me crazy. I find myself wanting to dig at my skin, so instead, I rub lotion on my arms to ease the itch. At least they’re nice and soft but still, he’s practically a Neanderthal!

Educated, good-looking, hot as hell, but still… a Neanderthal.

CHAPTER

SEVEN

Doc

As the weeks pass, I find myself falling more for Gretchen. She’s had a few really bad days where I had no choice except to sedate her, but overall, she continues to improve by leaps and bounds. While I know it’s maddening that she was drugged against her will, at least she doesn’t have the nightmares of being assaulted to add to her plate. Granted, with those fuckers planning to auction off those they took, that was likely in her future, but she’s safe now and under mine and the club’s protection. She’s even talking about going to a meeting, not as a speaker, but as an attendee.

My only issue is that we still haven’t found Jbone or Gash. Despite both Pokey and Nerd’s best efforts, as well as Gopher and Mongrel hitting the streets on a regular basis, all the leads have dried up. I don’t want her going without protection, because from what little she managed to overhear, we know that they snatch their unwilling captives from the local meetings. We’re a smaller chapter, so we don’t have the ability to havebrothers at each meeting, and I’m worried that the three stooges are already back in business.

The good news, if there is indeed any in this clusterfuck, is that the overdoses I was seeing at the clinic and at the hospital when I was called in have dropped to almost zero. So, either they’re laying low, or they’ve perfected the cocktail they use. Neither are good options in my opinion.

Today, though, I want to find out what’s going on with Pokey. He’s still acting off and whenever he sees me walking toward him, he manages to disappear. Every text I’ve sent asking him to stop by the clinic gets read, but he keeps pushing me off when I try to pin him down on a specific day.

Seeing that Rio’s in his office, I knock on the door jamb and when he looks up, I ask, “You got a few minutes?”

“Yeah, come on in,” he replies.

I make sure the door closes behind me and sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk. I was going to try and finesse this conversation, but instead, I blurt out, “What the fuck’s going on with Pokey, prez? Seems as though Nerd’s doing more of the IT shit and quite bluntly, the man looks like absolute dog shit these days.”

Rio sighs and leans back in his chair. Then he straightens and says, “What I’m about to tell you needs to stay between us for the time being.”

“Got it, prez,” I reply, mentally preparing myself for whatever he’s about to say.

“Pokey’s dying, brother. He’s got prostate cancer and it’s too far along to do anything. He doesn’t want the others knowing justyet, stubborn asshole. Says he refuses to allow anyone to look at him differently,” Rio says.

“So that’s why Nerd’s been doing so much on the tech side these days,” I murmur.

“Yeah, he’s got a good head for numbers, of course, but his skills with the internet are phenomenal, so I’ve been letting him do more. This is gonna hit the brothers hard, Doc,” Rio tells me. “Pokey said unless it’s necessary, he doesn’t want them to know, but I’ll talk to him to try and let you take over his care.”

“So, what’s he planning to do, off himself?” I ask.

Rio scoffs. “No, he knows his time is limited, has taken care of all the legal bullshit, and he’s basically waiting since his cancer doctor said it had spread.”

“There’s nothing they can do? No experimental drugs?Nothing?” I stress.

“Remember when he suddenly started shaving his head?” At my nod, Rio says, “He was going through chemo. He told the brothers he had picked up some stomach bug and pretty much kept to himself for a few weeks. Well, it didn’t work and when they did further scans, they found he was eaten up with it because it spread. Fucking stubborn old man.”

“Fuck,” I grit out. “He’s one of the last old timers, Rio. Can you see if I can at least help provide him some pain relief?” I know there are options for pain control, but with me being right here, I could assist if it exceeds what he’s medicated for at least.

He nods then states, “That’s why he’s kind of been so lowkey. Says there are days he can barely manage to move around his room. He’s always been a bit surly, and it only got worse afterPaps died, but now, he barely lets Constance bring him trays when he’s too weak to come downstairs.”

“How the fuck has he kept this under wraps for so fucking long?” I ask. “Better yet, I’m a fucking doctor, so how did I miss this?”

I mean, it’s not like I go around arbitrarily diagnosing others, especially not my brothers, but I’ve always taken care of those in the club, as well as the ranch hands. Pokey keeping this secret from all of us is devastating. To be fair, we’ve had a lot of shit going on lately, so his absence wasn’t really on my radar, but still, I hate that he’s done this virtually alone.

“Because you’re not God, Doc,” Rio states. “And it’s not like he spends a lot of time hanging in the common room. He’s always been in his office or his room. Plus, since he’s so much older than most of us, he doesn’t utilize the club girls. He told me once it made him feel like a pervert since he was old enough to be their father.”