Page 22 of Satan's Naughty List
“Just after five.” His eyes pop open, body sitting up quickly.
“We’ve been busythatlong?” He asks in shock. I turn my phone and show him the time. “Shit, nothing from Doc?”
“No, I’m sure they’re doing whatever it is that helps her recover.” I push out of the bed with reluctance, stretching my sore limbs and standing. He whistles lowly, making kissy noises. Rolling my eyes, I resist the urge to turn around and put the brat in his place. It’ll have to wait. I want to check up on Aspen before we go out on our newest mission.
Getting dressed is damn near a task. I want nothing more than to jump back in the soft bed and continue my husband’s wonderful aftercare. That or eat his ass and fuck him ten ways to Sunday. While I’m absolutely an advocate of aftercare, I have no problems tanning his hide to the point of needing pain relieving creams. Thankfully, he enjoys it too.
“I hope she’s okay,” he sighs, throwing his clothes on like the room’s on fire.
“I’m sure she’s fine, Pax.” Grabbing the spray, we both work on sanitizing everything. There’s a whole crew that will come in, but I prefer doing a cleaning prior to them showing up. Messes happen, and it’s just an unnecessary evil I want to avoid hearing about later on.
Chapter Sixteen
Bythetimewe’redone, it’s pushing six in the evening. Neither Techy or I have eaten lunch, so when we emerge from the BDSM club, we’re both starving. The bar area of the MC is hopping with people from all places. There’s jacket pickers and regular civilians who just hang out with us to feel cool. Maybe they feel better about themselves if they can get into bed with the big boys.
Widower is sitting with her kids and Hudson at one of the tables further back, just enjoying themselves. I smile when Ophelia spots us, shrieking for Uncle Tee-Tee. We both laugh and make our way over to the table, sliding in with them. She plops herself in Techy’s lap, grabbing her cup and hunkering down. He was always the better one with kids.
We order food and watch Widower feed baby Sebastian. Hudson continues talking about some plan he’s got for working with the weapons shipments and pushing them across the border. Half-ass listening on my part, I simply play with the back of Techy’s hair while he coos at the little girl in his lap. He would absolutely make an amazing dad one day, but biology doesn’t work unless we adopt or surrogate.
Yes, I’ve thought about it. Seeing him hold the club kids really just makes my heart feel full.
“So, how’d your plan go? I’ve not seen you for a while, so I assumed it went well,” Widower says, looking around with a furrowed brow. “Where’s Aspen? I thought she was here.”
“It actually wasn’t too great,” I sigh, diving into what exactly happened. Widower hums while we keep the details Rated E, enough for them to get the jist without compromising little ears.
Looking over at Hudson, she gives him a silent squint. The children around us are none the wiser.
“Come to think of it, I’ve not heard from Doc either.” She pulls out her phone with a frown. “I haven’t gotten the daily report from her yet. Let me call.” Pushing herself out of the booth, she steps away with the phone to her ear. Hudson and Techy work to keep the kids distracted while we all watch with bated breath. Her head shakes as she pulls it away from her, obviously redialing and putting it back to her head. Again, nothing. She strides back, motioning for me to follow.
“We’ll be right back,” she calls over her shoulder as we both start to walk. Techy and Hudson both shout their ‘later’s’, the kids obviously taking up a lot of their mental capacities. “When was the last time you heard from her?”
“Let me check.” Opening the dial outs on my phone, I tap Doc’s contact. “It was just after noon when I called Doc, so probably twelve-thirty or so.” She nods, tapping away on her own phone.
“Have Techy reach out to some prospects to check cameras,” she mumbles, her heeled boots clicking along as we speed walk around. Doing as she asked, Techy quickly reports that the recent patch-in will be doing the checks, some guy named Ravi.
“He’s on it,” I reply, calling Crusher as we go.
“Boss,” he answers, cutting right to the chase. “We’re getting ready to put rubber down.”
“Understood. How many people are in the detail?”
“Uhm,” he pauses, mumbling numbers under his breath. “It looks like there's about twenty men, we have a few front runners. Pretty big gun bust.” Cursing, I have him hang on.
“They’ve got the bust going soon,” I say to Widower, knowing she damn well forgot also. In similar fashion, she curses.
“Can he spare anyone?”
“No, they’re all vital.” She doesn’t say anything else, still speed walking down to the clinic. “They’re green. We can find others.”
“Nevermind, orders are good,” I state, hanging up.
“We’ve got three details out tonight,” she sighs, pushing open the clinic doors.
Stepping inside, there’s no one around. Heallie is usually hanging around or writing reports for Doc, but she’s not sitting at the desk. Widower and I glance at each other, silently agreeing that something’s off. Cautiously, we move forward, the only sounds around us are her boots hitting the tile. Other than that, it’s a cold silence.
One that doesn’t put us at ease.
“Let’s stick together,” she mutters, pulling her gun from the waist of her jeans. I release my own pistol with a harshclickfrom the holster, keeping my finger off the trigger. For now. Our feet are light on the floor as we keep noises to a minimum, yet we move quickly to start clearing rooms.
