Page 14 of North’s Claim

We roll through slowly. Heads turn. A few of the guys peer from the porch. Some nudge each other. Curious, interested but I ignore them. I’m too fucking tired for questions. Even though we stopped a few times to get her hydrated and keep her upright, I feel the weight of every mile in my bones.

I pull straight to Cutter’s door and kill the engine.

The second the bike dies, the front door swings open.

Cutter steps out, beer in hand, wearing that lazy-ass grin he always has when he’s off-duty. “Look who finally dragged his ass home.”

I swing my leg off and stretch my back. “Didn’t miss you.”

He nods to Nyxa as she carefully dismounts. “She yours?”

“Cutter,” I warn. “This is Nyxa. She needs you to run the works. Now.”

Nyxa blinks, unsure. I turn to her, voice a touch lower. “He’s our doc. Don’t let the beer fool you. He knows what he’s doing.”

She goes pale but nods.

Cutter tips his bottle toward her. “I’m the guy who pokes and prods. Nothing you can’t handle. Promise.”

She swallows hard and glances at me.

“You’ll be fine,” I say. “Just let him check you out.”

Cutter arches a brow. “Didn’t think I’d ever see the day you brought a woman to my door.”

I glare at him. “Mind your fucking business.”

He laughs, stepping back to let her in. “Alright, alright. Come on, sweetheart. Let’s see what we’re working with.”

She follows him with hesitation in every step and I watch her go, jaw tight. I should walk away but I don’t, I follow her in.

Cutter gestures to the cot inside the exam room. “Sit. I’ll make it quick.”

Nyxa lowers herself slowly, her hands folded tight in her lap.

He runs through vitals first, blood pressure, pulse, light in her eyes. Her skin’s clammy. Color’s off. Still dehydrated.

Then the blood draw.

She flinches but doesn’t complain. Just watches the vial fill with red.

Cutter loads it into the testing machine behind him, the one we had installed last year when I enforced monthly checkups. Everyone—members and club girls. I’m not risking the club’s health because one dumbass couldn’t wrap it up.

Just as Cutter’s adjusting the settings, the door nudges open.

Boot trots in. Her tail sways like she owns the place. Nyxa startles when the dog walks right up to her, sniffs her leggings, and then rests her head gently on her knee.

Nyxa’s hand moves slowly, tentatively. But she pets her and fuck me if that isn’t the first real smile I’ve seen on her.

Cutter watches, something easing in his shoulders. “She’s got good taste.” Then he starts asking questions. “When’s the last time you were tested?”

Nyxa hesitates. “I… I don’t know. Maybe… a year? Myka said I didn’t need to. I was only with him. And a few… others. From Wolves.”

She goes quiet.

Cutter looks at me.

I give him a single nod.