Runner by Evie Mitchell

Author:Evie Mitchell [Mitchell, Evie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thunder Thighs Publishing
Published: 2020-06-04T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Ellie

The pounding in my head woke me.

"Christ," I groaned, eyes screwed shut. "I'm dying."

"No, just a really horrible hangover." My sister's hand brushed hair from my sweaty forehead. "You can have some painkillers in a second. You need to eat something first or you'll just throw it back up."

I forced my eyes open and found myself in a hospital-like room. Though, it felt more like one of the makeshift clinics that had been set-up in the before, when the virus had first begun its rapid spread.

"Where am I?"

"This is their infirmary." Blair snorted, fluffing the pillow behind me. "Let's just say I have my work cut out for me."

Butcher entered the room, a plate in one hand, a cup of something steaming in the other.

"Here," he placed it on the bedside table. "Toast first, have a little tea then we'll get the painkillers into you."

I accepted the offered toast, nibbling on a corner as my stomach rolled in protest.

Quiet you.

Butcher was… not what I expected. Average height but with above-average looks, he struck me as a good old boy, the kind you'd take home to momma. Definitely not the type to join a motorcycle club.

He wore a worn, plain black shirt and jeans, his dark hair in need of a cut but not overly unruly. He was clean shaven – an unusual occurrence in this land of the hairy.

"Why do they call you Butcher?" I asked, sipping at the weak but sugary tea.

"Had to cut off a man's leg once at a roadside accident. The name stuck."

I swallowed, "sorry I asked."

He grinned, revealing a set of white, perfectly straight teeth.

"You definitely don't look like a gang member."

"We're not a gang," he corrected, moving to the bedside table, and pulling out some painkillers from one of the drawers. "We're a club. It's like family."

"You don't look like a club member, then." I corrected. I held out my hand, accepting the painkillers Butcher popped out into my hand. He passed me a glass of water and I swallowed, grimacing at the taste.

"It's the lack of hair, right?" He rubbed a hand across his face. "Hair in wounds isn't advisable so I keep it tight." He winked, "besides, who would cover up sheer perfection?"

Blair snorted from across the room where she was sorting vials. "High opinion of yourself."

"Baby, you think this face is pretty you should see my d—"

"You're awake."

I shivered, watching Runner as he stalked across the room to my side. He looked exhausted, dark circles bruised the skin under his eyes, his mouth pressed into a thin line, hair standing on end.

"You need sleep."

He ignored my statement, coming to cup my face in his big hands. "You good?"

I shrugged, "head feels like it's about to explode but I'll live."

"The painkillers will kick in shortly. She needs to sleep. We'll continue the fluids for another cycle but by that stage she'll be good to go home." Butcher commented, checking the IV line.

"And by home, he means to the hen house." My sister replied, crossing her arms over her ample chest, and glaring at Runner.

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