Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

Mandy

I've never been real big on visiting hospitals or long-term care facilities.

They usually smell like stale piss and cafeteria meatloaf, but Doc asked me to come with him to see his mom who just got transferred to Desert View Assisted Living.

She's settling in and he wants to check on her.

So, here I am, sitting on the back of Doc's rumbling Harley, my arms wrapped tight around his waist as the desert scenery whizzes by in a blur of ochre and burnt orange.

The wind whips my hair into a blonde tornado and the vibration of the bike thrums between my thighs in a way that makes me think of last night, when Doc did his signature move.

When his head was buried between them. God, that man eats pussy better than a woman and I’m not even kidding.

We pull into the parking lot, kicking up clouds of dust.

Doc cuts the engine and helps me off, his big hands warm on my waist even through my leather jacket.

I follow him inside, my boots clicking on the polished linoleum.

The receptionist eyes us skeptically over her bifocals as we approach the sign-in desk.

I guess we don't exactly look like the typical visitors—Doc in his cut with the Reapers Rejects emblem on the back, and me in my ripped jeans and tank top.

But she slides the clipboard over without comment. "Names and IDs please," she drones nasally.

We both fish out our licenses and scrawl our names.

Amanda Blake.

I can’t even remember the last time I wrote my legal name out.

Doc's real name still catches me off guard sometimes too—Darren Nixon.

It doesn't quite have the same ring as Doc.

The receptionist buzzes us through the security doors with a click.

"All right, she's in room 118, east wing."

Doc's jaw tightens as we walk down the antiseptic smelling hallway.

I reach for his hand and lace my fingers through his.

I squeeze his hand. "Hey. You okay?"

He exhales heavily through his nose. "Yeah. It's just...hard. Seeing her like this. She still thinks I'm fucking fifteen," he grits out.

My heart pangs for him.

I can't imagine how gut-wrenching it must be, your own mother not recognizing you, frozen in time.

Forever looking at you like a ghost.

"I'm right here with you," I murmur, rubbing my thumb over his knuckles. "We'll get through this together."

He glances over at me, eyes glinting emerald, and lifts my hand to his lips, kissing it softly. "I know, darlin'. And I can't tell you how much that means to me."

We reach room 118.

Doc pauses with his hand on the doorknob and draws in a deep breath, steeling himself.

Then he pushes it open. "Hey Ma. I'm here."

The room is spartanly furnished, just a hospital bed, a nightstand with a few framed photos, and an occupied wheelchair by the window.

Doc's mother, Doris, sits slumped over in her chair, gazing out at the barren desert landscape.

Her silver hair is pulled back in a loose bun, and her once vibrant green eyes are now dull.

But she still carries the same strong jawline as her son.

Her voice wavers. "Marcus?"

Doc shakes his head. "No, it's me, Ma, Darren. I brought...someone for you to meet."

She turns her head to me, blinking.

Her cloudy gaze tries to focus on my face. "Who are you?"

I offer her a soft smile. "I’m Mandy. It's so nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Nixon."

Her once rosebud lips quirk upward. "Oh, call me Doris, everyone else does," she pats the seat on the bed, indicating for me to sit down.

All of a sudden his mother’s demeanor completely changes. "You said you were my son…but...you look so much older, I don't understand..."

Doc swallows hard, pulling a chair up to her bedside. "It's been a long time, Ma. Over fifteen years. I'm thirty-two now. I know it's hard to keep track. The time just keeps flyin’ by."

"Thirty-two?" She shakes her head in disbelief. "No, that can't be right. Just yesterday you were getting ready for homecoming..."

"I know. But a lot of time has passed since then," Doc says gently but firmly. "Listen, that's not important right now. What matters is I'm here to see you. And I brought someone special with me." He reaches a hand out to me. "This is Mandy. My girlfriend."

Girlfriend.

The word rings in my ears and expands in my chest like a balloon.

I've never heard him call me that before.

It feels...fucking incredible.

Like puzzle pieces locking into place.

A promise of a future with him and Kash.

"Oh, um, okay…I guess that makes sense," her eyes crinkle as she smiles up at me.

She’s struggling and I don’t know if Doc sees how badly she is.

God, this must be unimaginable for her, and for him too.

This has to be why he doesn’t come and visit her more.

Suddenly, Doris’ bewilderment transforms into pure panic, her eyes wild as she surveys Doc's face. "Wait," she says, a sense of urgency in her voice. "You're not my boy..."

Doc immediately places his hands on her trembling shoulders. "Ma, it's me— Darren. I promise."

She jerks away from him violently and grabs the porcelain vase from the nightstand, throwing it at Doc with surprising strength. "Get out! You're an imposter!"

The vase shatters against the wall next to him, raining shards of porcelain around him.

"Mrs. Nixon!" I cry out, shock winding its way through my veins.

But Doc just takes it all in stride, ducking the flying pieces with fluid grace and straightening up once the danger is past.

His gaze remains steady on his mother who's now sobbing in her wheelchair.

"No," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Ma, please. It’s me. I promise you, it’s me.”

Suddenly she lunges for another item, a small glass bird trinket that twinkles in the harsh fluorescent light of the nursing home room.

With a wild yell, she throws it.

The tiny bird takes flight and crashes into Doc's forehead.

An audible crack echoes around the room as the glass shatters on impact.

I scream, instinctively moving to Doc's side. "Shit!"

Blood trickles from his brow, seeping down the side of his face as he winces in pain.

His green eyes are filled with a mix of shock and sorrow that makes my heart ache.

The sound of footsteps echo in the hallway outside before they burst through the door.

A nurse, her name tag reading 'Gloria', rushes into the room to see what all the commotion was about.

She pushes past me to get to Mrs. Nixon, her hands reaching out to calm her frantic flailing.

"Mrs. Nixon, you need to calm down!" Gloria shouts over the sound of her own heavy breathing, trying to wrestle the older woman's hands away from a ceramic lamp on the nightstand.

"It's not him, it's not him," she keeps repeating like a broken record, her eyes darting around the room in wild desperation.

"Mrs. Nixon, Darren is your son," Gloria tries to reason with her, looking over at Doc with an apologetic grimace.

Doc gives a brief nod of understanding, taking a step back from his mother's bed.

His face is a mask of control but I can see the pain flickering in his green eyes.

I rush over to him, pulling a tissue from my pocket and pressing it against his cut. "You're bleeding," I whisper, my hand shaking as I touch his warm skin.

"It’s fine," he murmurs back, his gaze meeting mine for a brief moment before shifting back toward his mother.

Before I can stop myself, I lean closer and press a kiss to his cheek, my lips barely brushing against his stubble. "I'm here for you, honey," I say, letting my hand rest on his chest.

His heartbeat is a steady thud beneath my palm.

His eyes snap back to mine, holding a depth of gratitude that takes my breath away. "I know, darlin',"

We both turn back toward the bed as Gloria finally manages to calm his mother down.

She's slumped over in her chair again, chest rising and falling heavily.

"All right Mrs. Nixon, let's get you back to your bed," Gloria suggests gently, her arms wrapping around his mother’s frail body.

Doc moves as if to help, but Gloria waves him off.

"It’s okay," she says in a voice heavy with exhaustion and a touch of sadness. "I think it's best if you two leave for now. Your mother isn’t having a great day, and the rest of your visit might not go well. It might be best to call her a couple of times."

He doesn't argue.

Instead, he gives his mom one last look. “Love ya, Ma. I’ll see ya next time.”

Doc and I leave his mother’s room and exit the long-term care facility.

We get outside and his rough, calloused hand grabs mine. “Thanks so much for comin’ with me, baby. You have no idea how much it means to me.”

I offer him a soft smile, “Of course. I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. Are you okay, though?” I run my fingertips next to his cut, which has stopped bleeding.

He nods once. “Yeah, I’ve had way worse than this little thing.”

We walk toward his bike and I bring up Seraphina. “How are Seraphina and Turmoil doing since the other day?”

Doc sighs, “She’s alive so that’s good, but she’s gonna have a long road ahead of her. She looks horrible, Mandy, absolutely horrible.”

I haven’t seen her since the club rescued her, but I can only imagine how bad she looks.

“And the baby?”

Doc shrugs, “So far, so good… but the doctor told Turmoil to not get too attached because she went through hell.”

The conversation dies down as we reach his bike, the sleek black paint still shining under the streetlights.

Doc swings a leg over the seat, patting the spot behind him.

Climbing on, I wrap my arms tightly around his waist and we put our helmets on.

The rumble of the engine vibrates through both of us as he kicks it into gear and we start to move.

Wind whips through my hair, tugging at it playfully as we speed up.

I close my eyes and lean against Doc's back, letting everything else fade away in the rush of speed and sensation.

For a while, I just let myself get lost in the moment— in him.

When we finally pull up to the club, it’s late, and I’m sure Kat is ready to be finished with babysitting duty.

He parks the bike and we head inside the trailer.

Kat’s sitting on the couch, scrolling on her phone. “Hey, how’d it go?”

Doc shrugs, “As good as it could go I guess.”

Kat rises and slides her phone in the back pocket of her jeans. “Well, the little man just fell asleep, so you guys can have some Mommy Daddy time.”

Kat gives me a wink and I hold back a laugh.

Doc doesn’t even correct her when she jokes I’m Kash’s mommy, and I love that.

I love that he’s so okay with the little family we’re creating.

Kat heads for the door, “I’ll see y’all tomorrow.”

When she’s gone I turn to Doc and place both of my hands on either side of his face. “Doc, I have to tell you something, and I need to tell you right now.”