Ryker (Kings of Korruption MC Book 1) (2 page)

I look up at him but quickly avert my eyes.
 
He’s staring at me, intense blue eyes trying to bore into mine.
 
“Smokey?”
 
My voice sounds shaky and unsure to my own ears.

“Yeah.
 
Smokey.
 
Room 239.
 
You his nurse?”
 

The annoyance in his voice causes my face to flush and my heart to pound erratically in my chest.
 
I clear my throat, attempting to sound more in control.
 
“I am.
 
I’m just headed that way now.”

He gives me a quick nod of his head.
 
“Good.
 
He’s … just … take care of my brother.”
 
His order is gruff and sharp, startling me.
 
It takes an astounding amount of control to stay put, and not run screaming down the hall like a lunatic.

“I will definitely do that, sir,” I manage.

He stares at me a moment, nods again before stalking off down the hall.
 
I stare after him and wait for my racing heart to slow.
 
That was intense.
 
I don’t know many bikers but the ones I’ve had the horror of meeting terrified me.
 
If that man was any indication of who was in room 239, my worst fears were about to be tested.
 
Something to look forward to
.
 
Taking a calming breath, I mentally beat back my panic attack and continue down the hall to finish my rounds.

The next two patients are settled and don’t need anything.
 
This left only our newest patient to check in on.
 
I stand outside the door, taking a deep breath in an attempt to collect my courage.
 
Let’s just get this over with.

Giving the door a quick knock, I push it open and enter the room.
 
A sigh of relief escapes me when I see only the patient, who is asleep, and one visitor in the room.
 
When the visitor looks up, my sigh catches in my throat becoming a silent gasp.
 
Holy.
 
Shit.
 
He is breathtaking.
 

He's sitting in a chair at the side of the room, cell phone in hand.
 
Even though he's sitting, I can tell he’s huge.
 
He's wearing a leather cut over a white t-shirt, but it does nothing to hide the fact that he’s ripped.
 
His chest muscles strain the white cotton t-shirt and his heavily muscled, tattooed arms bulge out from under the sleeves.
 

I drag my eyes from his impressive body up to his face, my cheeks flaming when we make eye contact.
 
He smirks, clearly noting the thorough eye fucking I just gave him, but I still can’t seem to tear my eyes away.
 

His hair is dark and in need of a cut, curling a little at the nape of his neck and around his ears.
 
An unruly lock falls across his forehead, into his eyes.
 
Those eyes are incredible; deep blue with long dark lashes.
 
His nose and chin are chiseled, as if made from granite, and his jaw is covered in stubble.
 
He’s gorgeous.
 
Rugged and masculine.

I blink quickly, praying that I’m not drooling while I remind myself that not only am I working, but also that this man is a biker.
 
A dangerous, likely criminal biker, who’s here because his biker buddy is lying in
my
palliative care unit, dying of lung cancer.
 
Giving my head a quick shake, I force a polite smile onto my face.

“Hi.
 
I’m Charlotte.
 
I will be Mr. Harvey's nurse this afternoon.”
 

“Smokey.”
 
His voice is gruff and his eyes are boring into mine, causing my heart to skip a beat.

“Pardon?”
 
God.
 
That voice.
 

“Smokey.
 
Mr. Harvey likes to be called Smokey.
 
He'll tell you that himself, once he wakes up.”
 
He gives me a small smile, and I see a hint of a dimple on his stubbled cheek.

“Okay then.”
 
I nod.
 
“Smokey it is.”
 
I walk up to the bed, look down at the patient in question and begin taking his vitals.
 
While I'm working, he continues to speak.

“My name's Ryker.
 
If you're curious.”
 
I look up and see him smirking at me again.
 
Oh yeah, he’d definitely noticed the eye fucking.
 
Once again, I find myself blushing, and this just won’t do.
 
I have no business getting flustered over this guy.
 

“Well Ryker, how is Mr. Har – I mean Smokey feeling today?”

“Much better now that he's here.”
 
He frowns.
 
“Smokey's been suffering a long time with this.
 
The pain was getting to be too much and he doesn't have an old lady at home to take care of him. We told him, at least here, they have good drugs and hot nurses.”
 
He looks me up and down, making it obvious that he means me.
 
“Nice to see we were right on both counts.”

My breath catches in my throat and my eyes shoot to his.
 
He's smiling now.
 
And there's that dimple I'd seen a hint of earlier.
 
It's deep, and if at all possible, just adds to his beauty.
 

“Right.
 
Well ... his vitals are good, and he seems comfortable, so I'll be back later to check on him again.
 
If he needs anything, just push that button over there to page me to the room.”
 
I say these words in a rush, then turn on my heel, hurrying out of the room.
 
Bikers scare me, but this one in particular scares me on a whole other level.
 
This is not good.

***

Ryker

I'm sitting in a chair, thinking about the hot as fuck nurse that just took my breath away when Smokey wakes up.
 
Shaking off those thoughts, I lean over and pat his skinny arm.
 
“Hey brother.”
 

“Hey.”
 
He raises his hands and rubs the heels of them into his eyes, trying to wake himself up.
 
He's been sleeping a lot lately but this past week, his sleep has been troubled.
 
That's what made us decide to bring him here.
 
Everybody deserves the right to die at home, but there's only so much pain that can be cured with weed and Tylenol.
 
The man was in desperate need of prescription medicine and professional care.
 
“You been here long?”

“Nah.
 
'Bout an hour.
 
Just happy you can finally sleep brother.
 
Be thankful you're awake now though.
 
You should see your nurse, man.
 
She's fuckin' fine.”

Smokey snorts and smirks at me.
 
In the last couple weeks, he's really gone downhill fast.
 
His skin is pale and pasty.
 
His eyes, sunken and dark.
 
I barely recognize him as the man he once was.
 
He's fading away right before my eyes.
 
I know he doesn't care about any hot nurses, or anything else for that matter, but fucked if I know what to talk to him about.
 
The man is dying.
 
This is
not
something I know how to deal with.
 
I'm far from my comfort zone, but I volunteered to sit here with him because he’s the closest thing to a father I've ever had.
 
I’m going to miss the crazy son of a bitch.

His breathing is ragged and labored. Smokey hasn't spoken a whole lot lately because talking takes air, and he doesn't have much access to that anymore.
 
“Ryk, if there’s one thing I’ve learned while this fuckin’ cancer has eaten away at my lungs, it's that life’s short.”
 
He lifts his tired eyes to meet mine.
 
“I don't have a whole lot of regrets, but one I do have is, I fucked around my whole life and never settled down.”
 
He coughs, his lungs wheezing as he tries to catch his breath.
 
“Never had an old lady.
 
Dying alone fuckin’ sucks, man.”
 
He clears his throat, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Pussy is fun.
 
Bein' bikers, we don’t even have to work for it, but thinkin' back, I wish I hadda found me a classy lady and tied myself to her.
 
Someone to love, who loves me back, ya know?”

His words hit me.
 
I know what he's saying and it's something that’s crossed my mind before, but I’ve shoved that shit down deep.
 
I’ve seen what happens when someone in our world hooks himself to another person.
 
An old lady just complicates things and I don't do complicated.

“Holy fuck, Smoke.
 
Those meds they put you on earlier make you grow a fuckin' vagina or somethin'?
 
That was some deep shit.
 
Since when do you do deep shit?”

Smokey laughs softly, which abruptly turns into a cough and shortness of breath.
 
I instantly regret my attempt at humor, but I’d needed to change the subject to something less heavy.
 

Once he catches his breath, he throws a small grin my way.
 
“Nah, no vagina.
 
Just reflectin' on life now that my time’s getting' closer.
 
Seriously, Ryk.”
 
He puts a hand to his chest and winces.
 
“You’re a good kid.
 
You deserve a hot woman, warmin' your bed and lovin' you ‘til your last breath.”
 
He pauses again, attempting to fill his lungs.
 
The pain on his face is like a knife in my gut.
 
“I may sound like a pussy, but I want to be sure you don’t die with the same regrets I am.”

I swallow down the lump that’d formed in my throat while he was talking and nod my head.
 
“Yeah man.
 
I hear ya.”

Smokey just winks at me.
 
“Good.
 
Now, enough of that shit.
 
Let's get this sexy nurse in here and see if I can't get her to give me a sponge bath.”

Crazy son of a bitch.

Chapter Two

Ryker

It’s been two days since Smokey was admitted into this life-sucking building of death.
 
He gets weaker every day, but his pain is moderated now.
 
The catheter they gave him makes it so he doesn’t have to get up to take a piss, and that’s a blessing in itself.
 
Poor fucker would get winded just taking a leak before we came here.

Smokey’s been asleep for about an hour when Nurse Charlotte walks in the room.
 
Fuck me, she’s gorgeous
.
 
Her hair is a dark, chocolate brown with hints of red throughout it, which she keeps in a messy bun high up at the back of her head.
 
I would give anything to pull out that elastic and see what it looks like down.
 
I can tell that it’s curlym and maybe even a little wild.
 
She has a round face with rosy cheeks, and a pert little nose that has a patch of freckles fanning across it.
 
Her eyes are a deep brown; large and bright, framed with thick long lashes.
 
She doesn’t appear to wear makeup, but then she doesn’t need it.
 
She’s average height, about five foot five, has great fucking tits a slim waist, and from what I can tell her ass is smoking hot too.
 

I smirk when I see what she’s wearing tonight.
 
Fucking kittens.
 
All over her scrub top are bunches of little kittens playing with balls of yarn and chasing butterflies.
 
Ridiculous, but cute as hell.

She looks hesitant as she enters, but when she sees it’s just me and Smoke there, she relaxes.
 
She seems almost frightened when the other guys are around and I won’t lie, it gives me some kind of fucked up thrill to know that she’s only relaxed around me.
 

“Hey.”
 
Her smile is small but it lights up her whole fucking face, and my chest tightens every time I see it.
 
She’s so beautiful.
 
I’ve been with a lot of women.
 
I’m not being cocky when I say that - just stating fact.
 
Women love me and I love women.
 
Not one of those women had a smile like hers though – I’d remember.
 
“How’s Smokey doing tonight?”

God, I’m a dick
.
 
Smokey’s lying in bed, dying, and here I am getting a hard on for his sexy as fuck nurse.
 
I shake my head and try to sound cool.
 
“Good.
 
He’s tired but not in any pain.”