Owning Destiny (Forsaken Sinners MC Series Book 4) (11 page)

“We heard anything from Tyke?” He’s been undercover inside The Street King’s clubhouse for the past few months. I don’t like my boys going in dark, but we really didn’t have many other options to try and figure out what they are up to. And frankly, Tyke was our best bet; not only because he’s damn good at what he does and can take care of himself, but because he’s the least likely to be made by the Kings.

“We haven’t heard anything for a few days but that could just mean he hasn’t had a safe opportunity to get in contact with us,” Blaze informs me.

“Last time we heard from him though he said he thinks he’s getting closer to being brought into the inner circle. Hopefully he’ll have something for us soon so we can plan our next move.” This comes from Toby.

The Kings don’t do things the way a normal club would, but we already knew that. They don’t ride for the thrill of it and they aren’t in the club for brotherhood. They want to rule wherever they land and they do that by striking fear into the eyes of the citizens.

This chapter hasn’t made any wrong moves since they’ve moved in, but we’ve had our eye on them well before shit went down with Harlow and that piece of shit Titus. We’ve heard about the way they do things and we ain’t gonna let them do that shit here. No fuckin’ way.

They also don’t keep every brother informed. They may hold church and discuss things like normal, but they hold a separate church for those in the inner circle. That’s where they discuss what they’re actually going to do or what they really want.

This is what my brothers are talking about when saying Tyke is close to being brought into that circle. Unfortunately, when we placed our bug in their clubhouse, we didn’t know this. If we would have, we probably would have all the information we’d need right now and wouldn’t have had to resort to sending a brother in.

Nodding, I look to where Rose is finishing up with Dani and looking at me, waiting. “All right. Keep me posted.” I wheel myself over to Rose and smile at Dani as she walks over to where I just sat with the guys.

“I have to say, I’m surprised to see you actually in your wheelchair. I thought for sure you’d be a stubborn SOB and insist on walking,” she says with humor in her voice but she doesn’t mean it in a bitchy way. That much I know to be true. This is who Rose is; she’s smart, witty, and sassy. But she’s also one of the funniest people I’ve ever known. She just has her own form of humor sometimes and people can’t understand it. It comes across as bitchy, but it’s not.

“What can I say? I like to keep ya guessin’,” I reply, then smile cheekily at her. “Onward, woman. This chair ain’t gonna push itself.”

Shaking her head, she walks behind me to push me out of the clubhouse and to the truck, which is parked not too far away. “You’re lucky I like you, otherwise I’d smack you upside the head,” she whispers in my ear before laughing softly to herself.

We make the hour drive to the hospital in a comfortable silence. I’m not sure what she’s thinking, but I’m afraid to ask. What if she’s planning her next move for when the doc says I no longer need her care? I’m not ready for her to leave yet. We have something here. I don’t know if it’s a forever type of something. I know I don’t love her yet, but I could see that happening in the future. Maybe even the very
near
future.

I enjoy her company and look forward to spending time with her every day. I love that she’s the last thing I see at night before I fall asleep, sated and worn out from our excessive amount of sex. And I love that she’s the first thing I see in the morning. I’ve gotten so used to it, if she leaves, I’m not sure I could sleep at all with her gone.

Pulling into the hospital sooner than I’d like, I let out a silent sigh.
Here we go.

Rose helps me out of the truck and into my wheelchair. I don’t comment or tell her I can do it myself. Shit, maybe if the doctor sees I still need help, he’ll say I still need Rose to be my in-home nurse. I know it’s a longshot and not probable being as I can now walk with very little help. I’ll continue to get stronger the more I walk and build up my muscles again in my legs too. Plus, I’m sure Rose will tell the good doctor about my progress and there’s no way I can lie about it. Not after everything she’s done to help get me where I am today. Shit, without her, I may still be in this fuckin’ hospital with no hope of ever walking again.

No, I’m just going to have to see how this plays out and hope Rose will stay on her own and not because she needs to take care of me for medical reasons.

Once we’re up on the fourth floor and check in with the receptionist, we take our seat in the waiting room. Well, Rose does. I guess I brought my own today.

Rose is still quiet, though it’s different now than it was in the car. Before, she seemed happy and comfortable to leave things unsaid or maybe she just didn’t have anything that needed to be said. The same with me as well. I enjoy times like that when we don’t have to speak and nothing needs to be said. It’s simple. Sometimes in life those are the times that mean something.

But now, she’s quiet but jittery. Like she’s nervous or something. She looks like a junky right now jonesing for her next hit, but is fighting it as best she can. I hate to see her like this. I want to comfort her, take her into my arms, or better yet, take her away from the place making her like that.

“Mr. DeVin, we’re ready for you,” I hear called from behind me. I turn around. A nurse stands with a clipboard and a smile.

“Here were go,” Rose says as she stands. There’s a small smile on her face but it’s not a happy smile; it’s sad.

Nodding, I reach down to start to wheel toward the other nurse, but Rose places her hand on my shoulder. “I got you.” Those words hit me in the gut. The way she said it, it’s like she means more than just helping me down the hall and into the room. Like she means she has me in all things.

Neither of us says anything else while we make our way into one of the back rooms. The nurse doesn’t talk to us either, she just reads something on her clipboard.

Once we’re inside the room, the nurse motions toward the exam table. “If you want to get situated up here, the doctor will be in shortly.” She leaves without offering any help—not like I’d accept anyway—then Rose and I are alone again.

“Are you okay?” I ask without moving. I know the nurse wanted me on that table, but I can’t let this sad, quiet Rose continue. I need her to tell me what’s going on, why she’s upset, so I can help her. Fix it.
Do something
.

She looks at me with mock confusion on her beautiful face. “Of course. Why do you ask?” She thinks she’s fooling me, but she forgets I’ve been with her for more than two months straight. I’ve watched her and know all of her expressions. I’ve been inside her and know what she tastes like. I know something is going on with her…she just doesn’t want to tell me.

“You remember what you said to me that night when I didn’t want to talk?” I ask, but before I can say anything else or before she can answer, the door opens and in walks Dr. Yorkshire.

“Good morning, Mr. DeVin. Nurse Rose,” he greets us, then walks over to his chair in the corner of the room. “Now, let’s take a look at how you’re doing, shall we?”

Looking over to where I’m still seated in the wheelchair, he looks confused. “Do you need some help getting situated, Mr. DeVin?” he asks, but I shake my head no, never breaking eye contact with Rose. Our conversation may have been interrupted, but it’s not over.

Standing from my chair, I show no weakness. I may be sore and not able to stand with all my strength, but I’m getting there.

Moving toward the table, I take a seat. Crossing my arms, I wait for the doctor to proceed with whatever it is he needs to do. Maybe he’ll just talk, or maybe he’ll have me show him my progress, but either way, I will not disprove Rose’s time and expertise. She’s the reason I’m here right now and I won’t let her down.

Dr. Yorkshire does all sorts of tests over the next half an hour. He has me lift and hold my legs up to test my strength and movement. I move my legs side to side in the air to test range of motion. He has me walk to the door and back to the table three different times. He has me stand straight and then bend at the waist. I stand and lift one leg in the air to see how my balance is, then do it with the other. And finally, he checks both wounds and incision sites to make sure those healed properly.

“Well, Mr. DeVin. Everything looks like it’s on the right track. I don’t think we need to do the MRI after all. I’m not seeing any signs that there is any permanent damage. You still have a little way to go, but with what I see today, I don’t think you need the wheelchair anymore. We’ll have one of the physical therapists come in to give you some exercises you can do at home by yourself and we’ll want to see you back every few weeks to check on things, but other than that, I think you’re good to go.”

Looking from me to Rose, he says, “And I don’t think you’ll need the in-home nurse anymore, either. I’ll get the paperwork done and send in another nurse, and then you can be on your way. Nurse Rose, why don’t you come see me in my office when we’re done here so we can get you back on the schedule?” With those parting words, he leaves the room.

I stare at Rose, unsure what to do now. I feel panicked. I don’t want her to go but how do I make her stay?

She’s the first to speak. “I’m so happy for you, Michael. I knew you could do it.” She doesn’t look at me when she talks and that upsets me. She should always be able to look me in the eye without fear of me not understanding or angry.

Standing from the table on Jell-O legs, I make my way over to where she sits and kneel down in front of her. I’m hurting and this probably will only add to it later, but I need to see her. I need
her
to see
me
.

Lifting her face up with one of my hands, my other goes to caress her cheek. When she finally locks eyes with me, she gives me a watery smile with tears almost overflowing from her eyes. “Hey, don’t cry, baby,” I say quietly, wiping a stray tear that flows free from her eye.

She nods and tries to look away but I don’t let her. “Talk to me, Rose. What’s going on?” I ask, getting more concerned by the second. I’ve never seen her cry before and seeing it now breaks my fuckin’ heart. I’ll do whatever I have to do to make it better for her.

Pushing my hands aside, she stands up with jerky movements. She’s angry now, but I’ll take that over her crying.

Pacing the room, she speaks, but looks everywhere but at me. “I’m so fucking confused, Michael. When I agreed to help you, I figured I’d see you through this, help you get better, and then be on my way. And I
did
that. You’re better and doing more than anyone’s wildest expectations. You’re so strong and you have determination to get better. You have a family who cares about you and will help see you through this. Me? I don’t have that. And being there with you, I’ve gotten to know most of your brothers, your daughters, and even your grandchildren. I really like them,” she says, pausing while shaking her head.

“They all like ya too, baby.” I add in, not sure if she wanted to hear that or if she knew, but it seems like if she didn’t, that she needed to know. She
should
know. My family thinks the world of her, and not just because she’s helped me get better. Rose is a genuine person, nurse or not. And she’s fun to be around, to talk to. She’s fucking amazing.

Rose nods, but then shakes her head like she’s having an internal argument with herself over something I’m not privy to.

Standing, I pull myself off the floor and sit in the seat she vacated. “Why does all that make you sad though, baby? Yes, you helped me and I can never repay you for that. You got to know my family and they got to know you in the process. They love you, baby. And to know that you like them as well makes my heart swell. They’re not easy to get to know or like, but they let you in and you them. That’s an amazing thing, baby, so why are you still upset?”

“Because you don’t need me anymore, Michael! You’re getting better and don’t need me. My time with you is up and I’m not fucking ready for that, okay?” she cries out, but she’s angry. At me or herself, I don’t know, but her words make me so fuckin’ happy. She doesn’t want to leave.

Even though I’ve been through hell physically today, I stand and make my way to her. I need to hold her. I need to feel her in my arms.

When I wrap my arms around her, she cries into my chest and my heart breaks a little before it mends itself when I remember her words from earlier.
She wants to stay with me.

“So don’t go,” I say simply, because it is as simple as that. I don’t want her to go and she doesn’t want to leave.

It takes her a minute to digest what I said and to maybe think about what she’s going to do, but a few moments later, I get her answer in the form of a nod; she’s staying.

Chapter Ten

Rose

After making sure Michael was okay and had all his papers, I told him to wait for me in the waiting room. I just need to talk to Dr. Yorkshire and then we can leave. I’ll give Monica a call when we get back home.

Home
. That’s what being at the clubhouse with Michael feels like to me. I’ve never had a place where I’ve felt like I can just be myself. Where I felt safe and wanted. When I’m at the Forsaken Sinners clubhouse, I finally have that. Even when Michael isn’t in the same room with me, there are people there I care about. Dani, Sara, and Harlow have become my best friends. Sure, they’re a little younger than me, but they don’t make me feel like an older woman. I can be young and free with them and not worry about being judged. It’s nice.

Standing in front of Dr. Yorkshire’s office, I hesitate for a moment. I don’t know what I’m going to tell him about why I’m not coming back, but I know it’s the right thing to do. I just hope he understands.

Taking a deep breath and blowing it out slowly, I finally knock on his door. He answers right away for me to come in.

Once I’m inside, I close the door and take a seat across from him. “What can I do for you, Dr. Yorkshire?” I ask, though we both know what this is about.

“Well, first of all, I wanted to congratulate you on a job well done on Mr. DeVin. The way he’s healed and the progress he’s made, it’s actually pretty amazing. A lot of us here never thought he’d walk again,” he says, and it makes me angry. First of all, Michael’s progress isn’t because of me. Sure, I helped him along the way, but that was all him. If he didn’t have the willpower to get better and the determination to see it through, it wouldn’t matter what I did, he wouldn’t be walking right now.

Secondly, it’s disturbing to think the negative thoughts people at this hospital had about his recovery. I wonder, if I never would have done the extra research and found a new treatment for him, would we be where we are right now? It seems like the other physicians here pretty much just brushed him off as a lost cause. They didn’t want to see what could be and do the extra work…they just wanted to diagnose him and let him deal with the damage alone. It’s fucking wrong and I feel ashamed to say I worked with these people.

Trying not to show my irritation and anger, I nod slightly and say, “Thank you, but it was all Mr. DeVin. He was the one who did everything, not me. I was just there to help him along the way.” The man sitting in front of me should know it’s the patient who does the work and us as caregivers are only there for support. Sure, sometimes we’re the ones who save the lives of others and we do a lot more than just offer support to the patients, but in this case, it was all Michael. After the surgery was done and the orders were put in place, it’s because of him that he’s walking.

Dr. Yorkshire laughs and shakes his head. “Come on, Rose. You know that’s nonsense. We both know that without you, someone like him wouldn’t have progressed the way he has.”

I’m completely flabbergasted and speechless right now. What the fuck just came out of this man’s mouth? Did he really just say that? About Michael…or anyone for that matter.

“Someone like him?” I ask softly, afraid that if I speak any louder I’m going to start yelling and throwing things. I’m fucking pissed that we’re even talking about this and he’s acting like he’s so much better. That we both are so much better than Michael.

“You know what I mean. Someone of his stature. He’s in a gang, for goodness sake.” I can’t hold it in anymore. It was one thing to completely disregard Michael, but a whole other thing to put him down and think Michael is below him, but after the shit he’s spewing, Dr. Yorkshire is no better than the mud on my boots.

Standing abruptly, I lean over and place my hands on his desk, staring right through this asshole. “Who the fuck do you think you are, talking about him like he’s beneath you? He’s your fucking patient, for Christ’s sake. You swore an oath when you became a doctor to do everything you could to help your patients, to never give up, and to treat them fairly,” I yell, pissed at what he’s doing and wondering who else he’s done this to. Probably to anyone he felt wasn’t worth his fuckin’ time; poor people, drug addicts, and bikers. “And it’s called a
motorcycle club
, not a gang. They’re not drug mules or gun dealers. This ain’t
Sons of Anarchy
.” I get more heated the more I talk. It’s assholes like this that give guys like Michael a bad name.

And no, I’m not putting myself on a high horse, because I once judged him based on who he associated with and what he did, but I’ll be the first to admit I was wrong. It’s one of the reasons I will not let anyone else make that mistake or talk trash about him or anyone else in the Forsaken Sinners.

“Michael is a good man, a man who deserves to have the best treatment and doctors this world can offer.
And that’s not you.
Someone of his stature…more like someone like
you
isn’t worthy to be in
his
mere presence, let alone have you treat him. You’re an asshole because you can’t see the person he is behind his bike and the cut. I’ve had the pleasure of spending time with every single one of them and I’d take their company over yours any fucking day.”

I want to say more, but he’s not worth the energy and breath.

Standing to my full height, I shake my head in disgust and turn to leave, but before I open the door, I turn back to look at his stunned face. “You and this hospital can fuck off. I quit.” With those last words, I walk out the door and slam it behind me so hard, staff members and patients stop what they’re doing to look at what the commotion is.

Seeing the source of all the ruckus, they look at me like I’ve got two heads, but I don’t care. I’m done with this place
and
the people in it. I don’t even care if they send me my vacation pay that would be owed to me. Frankly, I don’t even know if I’d cash the fucking check if they did send it. I’m done with this place and everything that goes along with it.

Michael is still waiting for me in the waiting room on the fourth floor and I almost wish he’d gone downstairs. Now he’s going to see I’m upset and I have no idea what to tell him. And if I did tell him exactly what went down in that office, what would he do? Would I care? Probably not, to be honest. Craig would deserve anything Michael dishes out. I’d even happily sit and watch.

Shit, what is wrong with me? I’d never do something like that, let alone think it, and here I am almost wishing Michael would go into that office and do what? Not murder him, but I’d like to see him give him a good punch in the nose. Fuck it, yeah, I’m thinking it. There ain’t nothing wrong with me. I think I’m finally seeing things clearly in the first time in forever. It’s like I was wearing cherry colored goggles my whole life and being with Michael and the rest of the MC has finally lifted them off my face. I see everything for what it is and am able to think the way I should. I fuckin’ love it, actually. I’ve been missing out.

As I expected, Michael sees right through me and knows there’s something wrong. Instead of just wheeling himself over to me, or heck, waiting until I get to him, he gets out of the chair and walks over to me faster than he probably should after everything he just went through.

“Are you okay? What happened? Did that asshole do something to you?” he starts firing off in rapid succession, not even letting me answer one question before moving right along to the next.

Holding my hands up for him to wait, I walk over to his wheelchair and motion for him to take a seat. He looks at me with a hard look and crosses his arms. Stubborn man.

Flopping down into the chair next to his, I make him aware with just my look that I’m not going to answer any of his questions until he sits down.

It takes him a few moments, but he finally catches my drift, blows out an exasperated sigh, and sits down. “You better start fuckin’ talking before I charge into that office and start throwing punches. It don’t matter what he did, just that you’re upset and he’s the last person I know you were with. That alone makes him guilty,” he says, getting louder and louder the longer I don’t tell him what happened.

I wish we were out of this hospital before I told him, though. I don’t want to cause any more of a scene than I already did, but I know he won’t go for that. He’s dead serious about shooting first and asking questions later. Not like I think he’d shoot Craig…well actually, I don’t know if he would or not. I’m not sure if that makes me nervous or thrilled that he’d do that for me.

“Okay, okay. Calm down, Michael. I’ll tell you,” I say, hoping he’ll relax a bit, but he doesn’t. “I’m fine, I promise. Just a little heated about a discussion that happened, is all. He didn’t do anything to me. You don’t need to worry, I’m okay.”

He sits there for a few moments, looking at me like he’s waiting for me to go on, but that was it. I answered his questions. I just didn’t give him extra details.

Not having any of that, he stands like he’s going to go and do what he threatened, but I reach out and grab his hand, effectively stopping his retreat. Mission, more like it.

“Can you wait until we at least get out of the hospital before I tell you what the discussion was about?” I ask, but I already know the answer. He’s not going anywhere until I give him what he wants, and he wants to know what was said and why it made me upset.

“No, it can’t wait. You’re going to tell me now, before we leave. That way I don’t need to come back here if I need to make him pay for what he did or said. It’s either that, or I’ll just go beat it outta him. Your choice, though I won’t promise I won’t beat him anyway.”

Well, I guess I’m telling him now. Not like he’s giving me much choice.

“He congratulated me on the amazing job I did with you. He actually said that he and the rest of the staff had pretty much already written you off, thinking you’d never walk again. They weren’t even going to try.” It pisses me off all over again just saying the words out loud. Michael didn’t deserve any of this, yet he was subjected to Dr. Yorkshire being an uncaring ass.

“I’m just happy I was able to do what little I did to help you. Anyway, I thanked him, because I thought it was the polite thing to do, but then said it was all you. That I was only for support when you needed it. He laughed and said that someone
like you
wouldn’t be walking right now after what you went through if it weren’t for someone like me. I was pretty sure I knew what he meant, but I needed to hear him say it.” I want to go back into that office and do what Michael wanted to do earlier. I want to give Craig
more
than a piece of my mind, I want to make him
feel
what I’m saying.

“He confirmed my suspicions; saying that because you were in a gang that you either weren’t competent enough to get better without help or that you didn’t deserve to. I don’t know, I didn’t let him elaborate. Instead, I told him that you’re in a motorcycle club, not a gang, and that you were a better man than he is. I then told him to fuck off and that I quit before walking out. The end. Can we go now?” I ask at the end, eager to get out of here.

Standing up, I start walking away, but he stops me—whipping me completely around so that I’m now in his arms with him staring intently into my eyes. What gives me pause though is the lack of anger I see within his eyes. I thought for sure what I said would upset him, piss him off, or send him off on a rampage. I know if that was said about me, that’s what I would do. But not Michael. He almost looks happy and amused.

Neither of us say anything for a minute. Me, because I don’t know what to say right now and I’m literally speechless from looking at his handsome face and the way he’s looking back at me. I don’t know why he’s not saying anything. Could he be feeling the same way that I am?

A smile starts to take over his whole face before he leans in and lightly kisses me on the lips for the world to see. If this would have happened even a few hours ago, I’m not sure if I would have been comfortable showing a public display of affection, especially at my place of employment. But now, I want him to deepen the kiss and take me right here on this damn floor. Just being around him gets me hot and bothered, but add in him kissing me…yeah, my panties are wet and I’m in need of more than his mouth on me.

“What was that for?” I ask quietly after he pulls away from the kiss.

Smiling even bigger, he says, “You quit your job for me.” Then he kisses me again, this time longer.

“You stood up for me and my family without a second thought. And to your boss at that. What you did couldn’t have been easy, baby.” Now he talks with a hint of sadness, but I don’t know why. I’m not sad or sorry.

“Well, he was wrong about you. I wasn’t going to sit there and let him talk shit about you without saying anything. No one deserves that, especially not you,” I tell him, then I decide to give him a little more.

“I don’t know how to say this without it sounding bad, so I’m just going to say it and I hope you hear me out and know I was wrong,” I start, a little nervous about telling me what I used to think about him—well, more the person I thought he was.