“This funny to you?” Domino asks, and I can’t tell if it’s a smirk I hear in his voice or anger. Even sounds are foggy right now.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” I mumble.
Did someone growl, or did the building moan?
I hiss and snap my eyes open, baring my teeth at the guy poking me in the arm. Asshole didn’t even ask if he could take my blood, much less warn me he was doing it. But the look he gives me has me holding my tongue and just closing my eyes once again. Who gives a fuck? Not like cloning has had some major upgrades and they’re going to create a whole new Viv.
Of course, they could have been drugging me more, if that’s possible. My defenses are down, but I feel confidentthat if I wind up dead in a ditch, Summer will know who took me. She’ll come by the house in the morning, see I’m not there, and check the feeds. The cameras around my building are good—fantastic actually—and they have a clear shot of both the tattoo shop and the club entrance. She’ll see where I went. Sure, it might be too late by then, but Summer knows people, and my death will get some justice at least. Even if she goes to some major extremes and just lights the place on fire while everyone’s sleeping. She’s crazy like that. Then again, if things were reversed, I would do the same. Like recognizes like. And most become besties when they find each other.
The door smashes open, and I peel my eyelids open just enough to see two guys carrying in the one I decked, setting him on the second table in here. This place isn’t big enough to be a full-size clinic, but there are three exam tables with just enough space between them for someone to squeeze through. Two people could easily hold hands while on their own tables. Upper and lower cabinets line every wall, with most of them clear to see what’s in them. It’s efficient and stocked enough to be called a doctor’s office, but still missing a few machines to deem it hospital worthy.
Then again, this is a biker club. Who knows what they have in other rooms. The movies make it seem as if they always have it, stole it, or know a guy who can get it for them by sneaking them into a hospital. I’m not naive enough to believe these guys are the weekend-rider types and stay clean of anything shady. For one thing, I live next door. Also, most of them seem to be of the “scary biker” variety and not the “Grandpa Santa belly only here to tell war stories” type. I saw a few when I was carried in who matched the look, but they were still a bit scary looking. And trust me, I know whatis and isn’t scary. I’ve been around those who pretend to be scary and aren’t more than most. I know when a person holds that something extra that makes them a person you should be nervous around.
Good thing for me, I can handle myself no matter who’s in the room. I’m my own sort of scary, but it’s hidden by years of learning to appear nonthreatening. That’s the point. Unexpected. Unassuming. Hidden.
“Still out cold?” Now I clearly hear Domino’s surprise in his voice. Guy must have a glass jaw or something. I know I hit hard, and sometimes a few take a while to get back up, but I never thought I would take a biker down. Guess I’ll add it to my résumé.
“He came around for a second, but then numb nuts over there dropped his hold and he slammed his head on the limo. Went right back out again,” a guy, not the one with the Irish accent I heard before, says. He looks young—well, younger than the one who must be a doctor, or at least the one who knows how to poke a hole in someone without issues.
“I’ll let him sleep it off for a bit. We’re out of smelling salts after the last time you boys had a knockout bet. Boss, we need some pussy in this club soon; otherwise, we’re going to have double our doctor’s budget.”
“Fresh crop coming in tonight. You know that,” Domino grunts, and I close my eyes, no longer caring who’s coming in or out. I just want the noises to stop.
“Shhh,” I say, and it actually gets them to stop talking. I smile at that, and one of them chuckles deep. Got half a mind to think it’s Domino, since it sounded close, and he’s closer than the others last time I saw.
They starttalking again, but lower this time, and I’m able to tune them out as I wrap my arms around my head and block out the light. I breathe deeply and mentally loosen all the knots in my body. I need a nice bath. My Jacuzzi tub is calling my name, but it’ll have to wait. Not about to get into a body of water while I’m drugged. If that’s really what’s going on. Which seems like a possibility, since I feel similar to the last time I was, now that I think about it.
A yell has me reacting. I swing my arm out and smash it against something relatively soft. And then wet.
“Fuuuck!”
The second yell makes me open my eyes, and I see that the soft thing wasn’t what I thought. Not sure what I thought, to be honest, but it definitely wasn’t that the thing was a face. Add in the fact that it belongs to the guy I knocked out before, who is now holding his nose as blood gushes out of it, and I wince. A little. Guy shouldn’t have yelled like that and not expect a girl to react.
I’m pretty sure I was asleep. Who knows how long I dozed, but as I look around the room, no one else is in here but us two, and the lights are dimmed. Well, they were.
The noise must have carried, and soon the room is filling up. Guess they thought I was killing their friend or something, because I see a few guns drawn before I just settle back down and close my eyes again. I’m still tired but less dizzy. I guess I’ve been here longer than I intended.
I mentally check my body, and nothing feels sore. Well, no more than when I came into this place. I don’t think they did anything while I was out. If they did, I would expect to at least be tied to a bed or something, not still in the clinic in my horrible frilly dress.
“What the fuck happened to you now?” I hear the Irishman ask, then some feet moving before a few grunts. The grunts have me opening my eyes and looking at my suite mate. He’s still holding his nose, but blood is dripping out of his hand as he points with the other at me.
I look around and see that about half of the men that ran in here a second ago are gone. Only a few remain, including Domino, who’s smirking at me. His arms are crossed, which just gives more definition to his already impressive biceps. And man, am I a sucker for a pair of man guns.
“What?” I go on the defensive but say it innocently. I’d rather be seen as anything but what I really am, just in case they decide they really are going to kill me, and this was just a trial period or something. I mean, I’ve hit this guy twice now. Some places I hear that one hit is enough for a punishing sentence.
“What happened?” Domino’s deep voice hints at amusement, but his face is stoic.
“Ask him.” I wave at the guy with the busted nose.
“Lucky seems to be indisposed—again.” He raises a single eyebrow at me to point out that I’m the one being the issue.
I suck in air between my teeth and tsk. “Bad name choice.”
A guy in the back with close-shaved hair snorts, and I see Domino’s mouth twitch as he says, “So it would seem.”
He waits me out, and I don’t feel the need to drag this out. I prop myself up on my elbows so I can at least seem moreon his level, even if I’m not ready to try and stand, or even sit up fully.
“He made a noise. I thought it was an alarm, so I shut it off,” I say with a shrug.
