Page 50 of Property of Necro (Kings Of Anarchy MC: Illinois #1)

Chapter

Thirty-Five

I rub my masked face against my shoulder to stop my nose from itching.

“Coffin, take a breather. Drink some water. Get some air,” Doc Jones orders as he sutures Necro’s wound.

I yank off my gloves, tear off the medical mask, and chuck both in the biohazard bin before I take a stroll around the room—the sterile medical box in the middle of Doc’s barn.

The fluorescent lights are enough to give anyone a headache.

The smell of fresh plastic sheeting and bleach is damn near nauseating.

But I’m here. Necro needs help, and I’ll do anything to keep the stubborn fucker alive.

So far. We’re in the clear.

As long as he wakes up.

As long as he didn’t die too long.

Only a minute and forty-six seconds. The longest minute and forty-six seconds of my life. Because he heard her, and his heart couldn’t take it anymore. It spiked and then it stopped. It wasn’t even from blood loss, or so Doc said. It was Sola .

His ultimate sin.

The woman he literally died for.

Because he loves her.

He doesn’t know it’s love.

None of us knows what it really feels like. How could you when none of us has felt it before?

But I’m pretty sure that’s what this is.

The obsession. The need to see her, to make sure she’s okay, to feel her, to smell her, to touch her, to do anything for her, even if that means taking your own life, because she deserves better… and you’re tired… Tired of hurting…Tired of the demons that haunt your every breath.

I know how Necro feels.

Not fully.

But we’ve been brothers long enough. I know the signs.

He slit his wrists when he watched porn the first time.

For sinning.

For loving it.

For wanting it.

The pleasure. The chemistry. The hope.

It took years for him to be okay with sex. To even allow himself to have it. He made me pierce him over and over again to dull the sensations. I told him they’d make it worse, but he didn’t believe me.

Eventually, he stopped having sex altogether.

It’s been years since he fucked anyone besides Sola.

Years.

Then she came and changed everything.

And he died.

So, he can live again .

It’s his punishment.

I’m gonna fucking throttle him when he wakes up.

“We’re about done,” Doc says.

I stop beside Necro’s bed to watch his chest rise and fall as the blood pressure cuff on his arm does its thing. “Do you think he’s gonna be alright?”

“Yes and no. Physically, he’ll heal. He didn’t do too much damage. But he needs a psychiatrist, Coffin.” Putting his instruments on the tray, Doc lifts Necro’s limp hand. “Look at his fingertips.”

I don’t need to.

I already saw the damage in the SUV.

After a week of painting, they’re raw. Almost down to the bone. Yet, he didn’t stop. He kept going until his masterpiece was complete. Then he took his life. It was planned. It had to be.

Fucking, selfish, brainwashed, prick.

“Coffin,” Doc calls when I don’t respond.

“I saw them earlier. I don’t think he has much feeling in them anymore. His fingerprints never returned after they burned them off when he was a kid. That probably did some nerve damage,” I explain, hoping Necro doesn’t get pissed I shared that tiny detail with Doc.

Flicking his gray eyes at me, they pinch around the edges. “They burned off his fingerprints?” His voice rises in a mixture of fury and disbelief.

“You never noticed?”

“No. I don’t inspect all of my patients’ fingers,” he says as he disinfects Necro’s and bandages them in white gauze and tape. When he reaches his right pointer finger, Doc hisses in pain. “There’s bone.”

I nod.

What else can I do?

I’m helpless.

Besides standing in as an unqualified surgical nurse, there’s nothing I can offer. And I can only do that after years of torturing women to literal death. You learn a lot when you get hands-on experience.

Heaving a sigh, I lace my fingers behind my head and keep Doc company until he’s finished. Then I help him clean up. It’s the least I can do after he dropped everything with his boyfriend to keep Necro alive.

I’d say as much, apologize, and all that, but I’ve hit my apology quota for the day with Sola.

That’s good enough. Doc knows we appreciate his services.

He built his cabin because of our generous retainer.

I won’t pretend this is a charitable endeavor driven by his Hippocratic oath.

Money talks, and Doc has a brother in the club. He knows the score.

When we’re through, I fix the oxygen cannulas in Necro’s nostrils before draping a sheet over the lower half of his face, like he’d want me to. If he doesn’t want people to see his mouth, they won’t.

Creature pops in just as Doc dims the lights and relays instructions to let Necro rest for as long as he needs.

“We need sunglasses.” I point to Prez’s eyes, so they don’t hurt when he wakes up.

“On it.” Creature disappears, and I exit the medical box to grab a folding chair in another part of the barn. I dust it off as best I can before I slip it through the plastic-draped doorway and set it up beside Necro’s gurney.

We don’t know how long he’ll be out. Doc drugged him up real good. As long as his vitals remain steady, I’m not worried.

Needing to keep an eye on him, I relax in the chair and play stupid games on my phone. Rot pops in later with Mama to see how it’s going.

“Still breathing.” I flick my chin to Necro. “Where’s Sola?” I ask Rot, setting my phone on my thigh. The solitary can wait.

“Doc just carried her into the cabin to get some sleep.”

Excuse me?

“You let him carry her?” I snarl and grind my molars together to keep from saying rude shit to Rot that will do more harm than good. We’re riled up. Not thinkin’ straight. Our prez tried to leave us, again.

“He didn’t ask.”

That’s not… Fuck!

I grip my knees so hard it’s a miracle my fingers don’t shatter. “Did you see where he put her?” I force out.

“No.” The dumbass shakes his head. “But he has an extra bedroom. I’m sure that’s where she’s at.”

Or she could be in his bed. It doesn’t take a goddamn rocket scientist to see how sexy she is. Anyone with two eyes can see it. Doc’s an equal opportunist. After working on Necro, she’d be the perfect distraction to wind down.

Hairs rise on the back of my neck at the thought of anyone besides us touching her. He shouldn’t have carried her inside. That’s our job.

“Go check,” I demand.

Rot sighs. “Coffin. She’s fine.”

He doesn’t know that.

Darkness slithers through my gut, hungry for blood. I shake my head. No. I can’t do this right now. “I wasn’t asking, brother. I’m fuckin’ tellin’ you. Check. Make sure.” I force the words from my throat, sounding like I’m possessed by a demon.

“Yeah. Okay.” Rot relents, raising his hands. “But you need some rest, too. I’ll rest with Sola for a while, and I’ll set my alarm so we can take shifts.”

“We don’t need to take shifts. I’ve got this.” I glance over at Necro. I’ve more than got this. Rot can care for Sola. She likes him better anyway, and I can stay here with our brother to make sure nothing pops off.

“I’m not asking, brother. I’m fuckin’ tellin’ you,” Rot cocks off, raising an eyebrow to see if I’ll challenge him. When I open my mouth to tell him to fuck off, he adds, “Sola needs us. Both of us. She just watched Necro try to kill himself, and this time he almost succeeded.”

Sitting back in the chair with my legs spread, I tuck my arms across my chest and huff. “Fine. But if we don’t get him straightened out for good, we won’t be so lucky next time.”

“I know.”

“He’s gonna hate us for this.”

“Too bad.” Rot shrugs, not giving a single fuck. “He doesn’t get to let his shitty past dictate our futures.”

“I can take a shift,” Mama offers from the doorway, where he has been listening the whole time.

“I appreciate it, VP, but we’ve got this. If you could handle the other brothers, we can handle this one and our woman.”

Nodding along with my instructions, even though he outranks me, Mama replies, “Sounds good. Holler if you need me.” He clasps Rot’s shoulder on his way out.

“I don’t know what we did to deserve a VP like him, but we’re fuckin’ lucky,” Rot comments.

“Yeah. He’s a good guy. Now go check on Sola.” I flick my chin at the exit.

“Yeah. Yeah.” Sighing like I’m puttin’ him out, when we know I’m doin’ nothing of the sort, Rot slaps the plastic flap open but doesn’t walk through. “I’ll send ya a picture of my dick in her ass. Ya know, for confirmation.” Looking at me over his shoulder, he smirks.

Ugh.

I scowl so hard my forehead aches. “You’d better not.” He better leave those pretty cheeks alone. That ass is for us to share. Later. When Necro’s alive and well.

“Fine,” he sings far too upbeat. “In her mouth, then. She loves a good pacifier.” Rot sucks in his cheeks like he’s sucking on one, and I bark a laugh at his dumbass.

“Fuck off, asshole. She does not.”

Eyes shimmering with mischief, he waggles his brows. “You wanna bet?”

Another laugh slips free as I shoo the fucker away. “Go on. Get outta here, dick-for-brains, and don’t come back ‘til you’ve slept.”

“Fine. I’m going. I’m going.” Slowly dragging his feet like a toddler, head down, fake pouting, Rot slaps the plastic open again and steps through this time.

He pauses on the other side, and it slides closed behind him.

“Dick pacifier, brother. Dick. Pacifier. It’s all nice, soft, and warm, and ends with a cream filling,” he croons.

“Rot!” I shoot out of my chair, ready to kick his ass.

A rotten cackle erupts from his throat as he races from the barn. “I’m going! I’m going! I’m going to cum down Sola’s throat,” he carols like a sleep-deprived deviant who just got his favorite toy back.

Lowering my tired ass back in the chair, I grunt and adjust myself. I’m not hard, hard, but semi, all from a stupid pacifier talk—Rot’s such an asshole.

Less than ten minutes later, as I’m Googling shit I shouldn’t be, given where I am, a picture of Rot smiling like a goddamn champion with Sola suckling his cock in bed comes through. A video arrives minutes later.

“Be a good girl and tell grumpy ol’ Coffin how much you love warming my cock, sweet girl,” he coos, sweeping a mess of red curly hair off her face to give me a front-row seat to Sola’s cute little groans as she nurses Rot, cheek resting on his thigh, eyes closed.

Damn.

He was right.

She looks like she loves this. She looks like a beautiful angel.

My stomach pitches.

He pets her head and groans. “That’s it. You’re such a good girl.”

Sola nods all innocent and shit, and I turn to stone.

I’ve never had anyone suck my cock like that. Warming it with her mouth and lips, just savoring it.

Rot’s hard as steel, and he squeezes his root and jerks upward like he’s trying to express precum. Sola’s whimpery moan confirms I’m right as she hollows her cheeks to swallow down his offering.

“Now go back to sleep, sweet girl.” Rot strokes her cheek like she’s the most precious thing, and his eyes shine with what could only be described as adoration as he stares at our woman and continues to praise her.

The video plays on for a solid ten minutes, and when Sola drifts off, Rot puts the camera in his face and, looking straight at me, whispers, “We’re the luckiest fuckin’ assholes in the goddamn universe.

Wish you were here.” He blows me a gross kiss.

The video ends, and my heart aches, wishing I was with them, too, sharing a bed, cuddling up beside her as she sucks Rot. I could slip into her warm cunt and just be.

I glance over at Necro. “You’d better be whistlin’ a different tune when you wake up, brother, ‘cause we’ve got work to do.”

As if he hears me, Necro’s chest arcs as he inhales deeper than before.

Yeah.

He’d better listen.

It’s time to put in the work.

To fix him.

To fix us.

To build a family with Sola.

And strengthen our club.

We’ll get through this.

We always do.