Silas hadn’t left her side since he carried her limp, bloodied body through Doc’s back door. Not a hospital, not some sterile, humming ER. No, this was the club’s clinic. Outfitted well enough for emergencies, and more importantly, run by Doc—a man with steady hands, a medical degree, and an oath long since replaced by loyalty.
She’d gone down in the alley behind the Pit Stop, and there hadn’t been time to wait for EMTs. Hell, there hadn’t even been a decision to make. Silas had wrapped her in his arms, ran to his truck, and floored it. The roar of the engine echoing in the early hours like a scream.
Now, hours later, the adrenaline was long gone, but the fear still clung to him like sweat. He sat beside her, his fingers tangled with hers, his knuckles bruised from breaking open the alle
