MAYHEM

Six

Valentina was dead on her feet, swaying with her eyes half open. It was her last 12 hour shift of the week.

And Butcher was late.

It'd been two weeks of the same routine, and never once had he been late. She was in the break room, avoiding a chair because she knew as soon as she sat down she would be asleep.

When she thumped her head against the wall as she started falling sideways, she finally relented. Valentina's entire week has been hardwork felt more strenuous than ever. Working with kids in a hospital setting was a blessing and a curse, and sometimes she just couldn't take it.

And all she wanted was to be home but she couldn't because she doesn't have her damn truck. Butcher, other than today, had been reliable, quiet company. He was always on time, always vigilant with what was happening around her if they stopped somewhere in public. But he didn't talk much; he almost felt like a shadow more than anything and he left as soon as he got the chance to.

Was Valentina offended he didn't find her charming enough to hang around? No, definitely not. She was totally unaffected by it. But Butcher was a lot of things and someone who showed up late was not one of them.

20 minutes late to be exact. She was sitting at the table, eyes fluttering open and closed. She would probably be worried about him by now if she weren't dozing off.

Her eyes had fully shut as noise suddenly echoed in the background.

"Sir, you really need ID to go back—"

"Shut the fuck up and let me get what I have to get," a familiar voice snarled, but still she didn't wake up from her power nap.  the door was slammed open she did jump, groggy and shielding her eyes immediately from the bright light. A low whine fell from her lips as she squinted up at the familiar biker.

His usual eyes held a bit of guilt in them—that was surprising. Butcher was usually unbothered by her or how she felt about things. He did his job as promised. He didn't explore the small opportunity of friendship he'd opened that day Jude left, he didn't indulge in her small talk or stay late when she invited him for food. It was business to him.

And that made her tired little heart so sad for some reason.

"Valentina," he grumbled softly. If she hadn't been so tired she'd say that there was relief in his tone.

"Late," she groaned and thunked her head on the table.

The nurse that had been trying to stop him glanced at Valentina, then back at the scary man, before ultimately deciding to leave.

Valentina fully laid her upper body against the table, giving up on staying awake. He cursed quietly and tried to rouse her up.

"Valentina," he hissed as gently as he could muster. Repeatedly he tried to shake her tentatively. His large hand clasped her slender shoulder. Cursing again, he rubbed a hand through his hair.

"C'mon sugar. Work with me here." He bent down and slid his arm under her thighs, his other bicep cradling her back.  Immediately, she wound her own arms around his neck. Her body tensed as he held her entire weight up, her eyes peaking open cautiously. "I've got ya." He rolled his eyes.

She rested her cheek on his shoulder without another complaint, and he managed to snag her tote bag that she had left on the floor.

Thinking back, she would be grateful for him, even if he'd been late to begin with. Because as he carried her through the hospital he didn't once look embarrassed, didn't once complain about doing so, or the fact that she definitely smelled like she'd been working a twelve hour shift, and as he held her, his touch was jarringly gentle.