Page 19 of Edge (Redline Kings MC #4)
CALLIE
I sat on the edge of the exam table in the clinic at the Redline Kings compound, trying to hold still while Cage worked. His hands were steady, his movements precise as he cleaned the scrapes left behind by the ropes that had bound me to the chair.
“You’ll be sore.” His no-nonsense doctor tone didn’t allow for argument. “But there’s no permanent damage. Only surface abrasions.”
I nodded, my throat tight, even though he hadn’t asked me a question.
I’d never liked going to the doctor. They meant annual checkups, awkward questions, maybe the occasional twisted ankle from jogging.
Not…this. Bruises from being dragged into a van or rope burns carved into my skin.
The antiseptic sting felt like it was eating at my sense of normal.
But as foreign and frightening as this all was, I didn’t regret the choices that had landed me here.
If falling for Tatum meant I’d been pulled into his dangerous world, then I’d choose it every time.
Because he was worth it. Even when I was tied up, terrified, and bleeding, the only thing that had kept me steady was the thought of him.
Savannah squeezed my hand, offering her silent support.
When we arrived at the clubhouse, she and Cage had been waiting, and she refused to leave my side while he treated me.
I tried to flash her a small smile to reassure her, but my lips stung when they curved.
They were swollen and split from being hit.
My head throbbed, too. But the pain wasn’t too bad.
Waiting for Tatum to come back was worse.
I knew everything was under control when he had his club brothers take me away, but I still wanted to see him with my own eyes. Just to know for myself that he was okay.
Cage applied antiseptic, then fresh bandages, before moving to the cut on my lip. His touch was brisk and impersonal, but I caught the shadow of concern in his eyes when I flinched.
“Anything worse than this?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Just bruises.”
“Good. That I can work with.” He cleaned and dressed the cut with quiet efficiency before stepping back. “You’ll be tender for a few days, but you’re solid.”
“I…um…” My gaze darted to Savannah, and I held her eyes as I confessed, “I might be pregnant.”
“Fuck, I shoulda thought to test you right off the bat,” Cage muttered, shaking his head. “You’d think after three babies, I’d be used to this shit.”
“This shit?” Savannah echoed, arching her brow over narrowed eyes.
“Shit, as in testing for pregnancy…something I never had to worry about until my brothers started dropping like flies,” Cage explained with a shrug.
“I keep kits in stock if you want to take a urine test. Or I can do a blood draw, which is more accurate and can detect hCG sooner. But the results will take a few hours. Would need to send a prospect to the lab with the sample.”
I considered my options before deciding, “Do the blood test please. I want Tatum to be here for the results, in case it’s positive.”
“Good call.” Cage patted me on the hand, then got what he needed for the blood draw.
“Definitely,” Savannah agreed.
Once he was done, Cage instructed, “Keep an eye on your head. If you get dizzy or nauseous, let me know right away. You could have a very mild concussion.”
“Or she could just be pregnant,” Savannah suggested.
I nodded like I was listening, but the truth was my brain was already somewhere else—out there with Tatum.
Cage continued, “And Edge would slice me up with his damn knife if anything happened to you, so do me a solid and take care of yourself.”
“Uh-huh,” I murmured, my thoughts still racing.
Cage could’ve rattled off an entire medical textbook, and all I would’ve done was agree automatically, because nothing mattered more than knowing Tatum was okay.
My body might’ve been sore and battered, but my heart was only pounding for one reason—the man I loved more than anything. And the baby we might’ve made together.
“You’ll be fine, and Edge will be back before you know it.” Savannah’s voice broke through, gentle but firm.
She wrapped her arms around me, and I clung to her, my breath hitching against her shoulder, taking the comfort she offered.
When she finally eased back, her eyes softened as they swept over me. “Seriously, you look better than half the guys do after a brawl.”
A shaky laugh escaped me. “That’s not saying much.”
“Maybe not,” she agreed with a smile. “But it means you’re tougher than you think.”
Cage cleared his throat, gathering his supplies. “She’s good to go.”
His eyes flicked to me again, a silent warning not to downplay the soreness I’d feel tomorrow. Then he left, the door clicking shut behind him.
Savannah perched on the stool beside the table, close enough that our knees brushed.
“You scared the crap out of him, you know,” she said quietly.
My breath caught. “Tatum?”
Her smile turned knowing. “Who else? He might not have shown it like most men would, but I have no doubt he was halfway to tearing the whole town apart before Jax figured out where you were.”
A tear slipped free before I could stop it, rolling hot down my cheek. I swiped it away, embarrassed. “I just…I need him.”
Savannah’s hand covered mine, her grip warm and certain. “And he needs you. More than he probably even realizes.”
“Yeah,” I whispered.
Savannah leaned back and reached for a canvas bag she’d carried in with her. She tugged it closer and set it on her lap, grinning as she unzipped it.
“After what just happened, I figure you’ve earned this.”
Curiosity tugged me upright despite the aches and pains. “What is it?”
She didn’t answer, just pulled something dark out of the bag and let it unfold across her hands. It was unmistakable—a smaller version of Tatum’s cut.
My breath caught when she turned it, and the words stitched across the back came into view. PROPERTY OF EDGE.
My lips parted on a shaky gasp. “Oh my.”
The dark leather gleamed under the overhead bulb, the white stitching stark against black. It was heavy with significance, weightier than anything I’d ever been handed in my life.
Savannah’s eyes softened at the awe written across my face. “Yeah. That’s yours.”
I shook my head quickly, even though I wanted this with every fiber of my being. “But—he didn’t—Tatum didn’t give it to me. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to happen?”
Her laugh was knowing. “Only because he’s been too busy with you in bed to remember that he called Kane the day after you met and told him to order it.”
“The day after?” I echoed softly, somehow not surprised he’d been that sure, that fast.
She nodded. “He knew right away. And he wanted this ready for when the time came.”
My fingers trembled as I reached for the vest, tracing the letters like they might vanish if I blinked. “I want it so badly.”
Because this wasn’t just a vest. It was Tatum’s claim on me, stitched in leather and thread.
“Then wear it.” Savannah leaned in, her voice dropping to something conspiratorial.
“Edge can face down armed crews without blinking, but you’re the one thing that can make him doubt himself.
Not about loving you—he’s already there.
But about whether you can accept every piece of him since he’s only really ever had that from his brother. ”
Emotion clogged my throat, thick and hot, leaving me nodding when words refused to come.
She smirked. “So if you want to show him you do? Wait for him while wearing this. And if you really want to make him lose his mind—in the best way—wear it with nothing else.”
Heat rushed up my neck so fast I nearly toppled off the exam table. “Savannah!”
Her laughter rang out, wicked and unapologetic. “Don’t pretend you’re not tempted.”
The edge of the exam table dug into my thighs as I clutched the vest to my chest, ignoring the sting of fresh bandages. None of it mattered compared to this.
Savannah was right. The idea of waiting for him like that—bare, marked as his in every way, in his room at the clubhouse of the brotherhood that meant so much to him—lit me up from the inside out.