Mountain Misfits MC: Complete Box Set

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Mountain Misfits MC: Complete Box Set Page 22

by Voss, Deja


  “What the hell do you think that was all about?” she asks me as I open the door for her.

  “Who knows. Kid has problems. He’s had a rough life, really sick childhood. We kind of just let him do whatever he wants because we all feel bad for him. I guess it’s starting to show.”

  “You know it’s not your fault. He’s your brother, not your kid.”

  She hops in my truck and we start the long trip down the mountain. I can’t stop touching her, cupping her thigh in my hand as she stares at me with a thin smile across her face. It sucks having to do this, having to face reality, but it’s time to find out if we can make this work outside of some contained bubble.

  Odds are, it’s gonna make for some long days.

  “I don’t wanna,” she whines.

  “Oh, come on. You love working at the hospital,” I say.

  “I know, but these past couple days have been refreshing, to say the least. Eye-opening. I forget what the world is like outside of those four walls sometimes.”

  “What? Violent and chaotic?”

  “Sexy and exciting,” she says. “Same difference, I guess. You’ll see for yourself what kind of life I REALLY live when you get a load of my shitty apartment. Or when I come home from work at the end of the day and am barely capable of eating and passing out. There’s nothing sexy or exciting about my day-to-day.”

  She looks almost embarrassed.

  “You are sexy AND exciting to me, Sloan,” I assure her, running my hand up and down her thigh. It’s true. I can’t keep my hands off her. Everything about her is fascinating, sexy, exciting, and yet warm and familiar. “But you have to go to work. After you finish school, it’s up to you what you want to do, but I’m not going to let you quit right before you reach the finish line. Once you graduate, you can move up on the mountain and never come down again if that’s what you want. You can weave baskets and milk goats for all I care. But right now you need to keep your eyes on the prize.”

  “I’ve got my eyes on the best prize ever right now,” she sighs as she rests her head on my shoulder.

  “You’re fucking cheesy, Sloan,” I laugh.

  We ride in silence the rest of the way down the hill until we reach town.

  “Turn left here,” she says, and I turn off the main highway.

  “Why do you look so nervous?” I ask her.

  “I’m just embarrassed. You’re totally going to laugh when you see my apartment.”

  “I don’t care,” I tell her. “As long as I get to stay with you, it doesn’t matter.”

  “Well, my bed is so tiny, one of us will probably end up on the floor before the night is over. Why don’t I just pack a bag and we can stay at camp tonight?”

  It sounds perfect to me. I park in front of her place, and she slinks to the front door with her head down. It’s definitely not in the best part of town. It’s pretty rundown on the outside, and the entryway of the building is in need of massive renovation. It’s dim and smells kind of musty. I can’t imagine what a girl like her is doing living in a place like this. It doesn’t make sense. Surely she has other options. Either way, I’m going to make sure she’s not living like this much longer.

  Chapter 24

  Sloan

  “You have to promise you’re not going to judge me.” I cringe as we walk up the steps to my apartment. I take them two by two, hoping to make this process as quick as possible. This place is terrible, I know. The only person I’ve had over since moving in has been Olive. It’s horribly sketchy, but that’s all my current budget allows for. The closer to zero, the better. It’s just a place for me to lay my head at the end of the day.

  I turn the key in the lock. “You sure you just don’t want to wait outside?”

  “It’s fine,” he says, offering me a smile. “Even if you had a freezer full of dead bodies, I’d still think you were sexy as hell.”

  “Here’s the grand tour,” I say as I open the door.

  “Well…” He looks around, trying to find his words. “It’s clean?” He’s fishing for something nice to say, and it’s fairly cute.

  “I’m just gonna change my clothes, pack a bag and grab my work stuff quick and then we can head to the hospital.”

  He paces around my little room. I admit it’s sparse. I’ve never had an eye for interior decorating, and I don’t have anything in terms of family heirlooms. All that got lost in the shuffle.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask him. He looks confused. “Did you find the freezer of bodies?”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way,” he says, “but it’s really not what I expected.”

  “I told you it was a shit hole.” I grab some clothes from my dresser and put it in a tote bag. I walk in the bathroom and pack up my makeup bag and toothbrush. I don’t know what to tell him. I’m a broke student. He’ll just have to get over it.

  “It’s just, I’ve been in prison cells with more character than this. If anyone came in here they’d have no idea what kind of person lived here. Usually, girls love hoarding knickknacks and stuff. Throw pillows? Duvet covers? Accent walls? I don’t know, I’m just saying shit now. I actually have no idea what I’m talking about. But you don’t even have a picture of your family or anything.”

  “I told you I’m not good at that kind of thing! You can’t even talk, Gav. Your apartment is the same way.” Well almost. His apartment is about a hundred times nicer than mine, and pictures of him and his brothers line the walls.

  “Yeah, I guess so. I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like a home to me.”

  I hand him my overnight bag and grab my backpack.

  “It’s not supposed to,” I say. “This is just a resting place. Once I graduate, I’ll find a home. For now, I just need somewhere to sleep, shower, and microwave popcorn.”

  He shrugs his shoulders, but I still feel like something isn’t right.

  “You wanna see my girly shit?” I ask, laughing. “Look in my nightstand.”

  “No thanks. I’d rather not meet my competition up close and personal.”

  “Oh, don’t be silly. If it was a competition, you’d win by a yard.” I wink.

  He stands in the living room in silence as I fiddle around, making sure I have everything I need for the work day.

  “Alright, I think I’m ready to go,” I say, doing a quick once-over of the place. I leave the nightstand lamp on. It’s not like it will keep anyone from robbing the place, but even if they wanted to, there’s not much they would find.

  The ride to the hospital is bittersweet, but in a different way. The last time we did this, I had basically told him I never wanted to see him again, but this time, I’m sad because I don’t want him to leave. He pulls into a parking spot near the back of the lot and I put my overnight bag in the back seat of his truck and lean in to kiss him goodbye.

  “9:30?” he asks me.

  “Barring nobody chops their head off. I’ll keep you posted.”

  He hugs me tight to his body and I don’t want him to ever let me go, but the clock is ticking. I hope nobody chops their head off. Or their arm. Or anything for that matter. After the last few days, I’m hoping just to lock myself in the office and not make eye contact. Lord knows if any word got out about my recent activities, I’d have a world of explaining to do.

  “You better get out of here,” he says, looking around suspiciously. “Wouldn’t want any of your fancy hospital friends thinking you were slumming it with a thug like me.”

  “You’re ridiculous,” I tell him. “Being with you is anything but slumming it. More like a major life upgrade.”

  “Yeah, but I’m worried about that Goob shit. I don’t want them to point fingers at you.”

  I shrug. “I have a pretty good alibi.”

  One more kiss that I wish would never end, and I walk into the hospital, a huge smile draped around my face and butterflies in my stomach that just don’t seem to quit whenever he’s around.

  * * *

  That doesn’t last long. I slip in thro
ugh the corridor, trying to keep my head down low. It’s been a whirlwind of days, and I really don’t know how I’m going to answer any questions that would’ve possibly popped up.

  “Where have YOU been?” Carol asks in a high-pitched voice dripping with a joking kind of judgement like she knows something.

  “It was my weekend. Why do you ask?” I snap back.

  “Jeez, girl. You don’t have to bite my head off. I just noticed your car never left the parking lot and I thought maybe you’d have something juicy to tell me.”

  I have a whole lot of juicy, but I’m not telling her anything.

  “Sorry. I didn’t sleep too well last night,” I lie. I slept great last night.

  Something about being back here has me in a mood. Maybe I just need coffee.

  “Hey, before you run off, there’s been a guy here looking for you. Good-looking, about your age, I wrote his name down,” she says, shuffling through a stack of papers on her desk.

  I can only imagine who it would be. Everyone is good-looking to Carol. For some reason, menopause has turned her into a horny maniac.

  “Scott Brighton ring any bells?” she asks.

  It takes everything in my power to try and keep expressionless. It doesn’t ring any bells. It rings every bell. Officer Scott Brighton was the cop who worked my case with Arthur.

  “I dunno,” I say cautiously. “Did he say what he wanted?”

  Suddenly I feel very cold. I normally love the temperature of the hospital, but I am shivering. Why is there a cop in my workplace? Did someone see something or say something they shouldn’t have?

  Maybe they’re looking for Olive and having trouble tracking her down.

  That seems plausible.

  We’ve been best friends our whole lives and Scott went to high school with us.

  I could cover for her.

  I take shallow short breaths and try to center myself.

  “He didn’t say anything. Just that you’d know how to get in touch with him.”

  I burned his business card a long time ago. Burned every trace of that period in my life, along with the family photos that Gavin so observantly pointed out. They’re missing for a reason.

  “Whatever. He probably just has me mixed up with someone else.”

  “I don’t know, Sloan. He knew your car. He’s the one that pointed out to me that it was still parked here.”

  “He’s just a creep, Carol. If he comes back, tell him to leave me alone.”

  “Like what kind of a creep, though?” she teases. “The kind who wears a trench coat and flashes people, or my kind of creep?”

  “I thought that WAS your kind of creep.”

  “Point taken. We have pharmaceutical reps coming in this afternoon with lunch. You got your big purse with ya so you can take home some leftovers?”

  “Carol, I really need to get to work,” I say, rolling my eyes at her, “and yes.” I hold up my tote bag. “Thanks for looking out.”

  There is way too much going on in my brain right now to process it all at once. Part of me wants to just call him back and face the music. It can’t have anything to do with Gavin. How would he even know?

  “Where are you today, Sloan?” Dr. Peterman asks, dropping a file folder on the desk in front of me. “Your brain fall out on the back of that motorcycle?”

  My heart skips a beat and my face turns white.

  “Relax,” he says. “I didn’t tell anyone. I saw you leaving the other night. Must’ve been a pretty long ride if you left your car here for two days.”

  “Just so you know, I didn’t have anything to do with Hank’s disappearance,” I blurt out. It’s probably one of my fatal flaws, offering information without being asked.

  “I honestly don’t care either way. That whole situation was becoming a nuisance. You even said when you were doing his rehab plan that you knew he wasn’t going to follow it. Sometimes you just have to let things go. The police were pretty perturbed, however. I’m sure they’ll be looking for him.”

  “Not my circus.” I shrug. Meanwhile, the only thing I can think of is the fact that I probably need to text Gavin and give him a heads-up.

  “You know I don’t care what you do in your spare time. You’re young. You should be out having fun while you have the chance. But when you’re here, I need you one hundred percent here. All you’ve done so far today is wander the halls and stare at a blank computer screen. You’re so close to being done with this fellowship. Nine more months and I’ll make sure you have a job here. But it’s going to be hard to convince the hospital to retain the both of us if we’re not doing two times the work.”

  I’m glad he still has faith in me, because I’m starting to waver in myself. I’ve seen a life that I never knew was possible for me and now I have a lot to think about. Right this minute, though, I need to get my head out of my ass and get to work.

  “What do you got there for me?” I ask him, opening the folders.

  “Just some case files. Let me know what you think about how to move forward on them. Garden-variety rehabs. It’s been a quiet couple of days. Everyone was probably waiting for you to get back to hurt themselves.”

  “Let’s hope not,” I say. Honestly, the quieter my job is the better. I don’t like seeing anyone get hurt. Still, I need something to keep me busy, and a stack of papers isn’t going to cut it.

  He leaves me to my business, closing the door behind him. He’s right. I need to get my mind back in the game. But my stomach is turning. If he saw me leaving with Gavin, who else did? Why is Officer Brighton looking for me?

  Maybe that’s not it.

  Maybe it’s something to do with Bender. I haven’t gotten any updates lately from his wife about my dog, but I understand she probably has her own things going on.

  So many maybes swirling around. The only certainty is if I can’t rally and get my work done, I’m going to be in a lot more than hypothetical trouble. I wait for the office door to close behind me, and pull out my phone. I need to tell him what’s going on, even if it’s just for the sake of letting him know they’re looking for Goob.

  Gavin:

  “Hey,” she says on the other end of the phone. Her voice sounds slightly distressed. “Can I just meet you at camp tonight? I don’t know what time I’m going to be done.”

  “Yeah, that’s no problem. I’ll be there when you get there. Take your time.”

  “Gavin…” She trails off.

  “Are you ok?”

  “Never mind. I’ll see you tonight.”

  I want nothing more than to tell her how much I miss her, how badly I want to be with her, be inside her, right now, but it sounds like she’s having a rough day at work. I, on the other hand, am having a great day of work at the Bucktail.

  Olive is tending bar while I sit at the end, pouring over numbers so I can finish up the quarterly taxes.

  “What’s wrong, Grandpa?” she asks. “You forget your bifocals?”

  I look up at her with a wide smile across my face.

  “I’m just making sure that what I’m seeing is right before I tell you that I’m giving you a raise.”

  “Well golly,” she giggles. “If I would’ve known that letting you bang my best friend was going to be so financially advantageous for me, I would’ve handed her over a long time ago.”

  I feel the blush run over my face. I can’t stop it. It’s so embarrassing. That girl has me feeling like a teenager falling in love for the first time. Olive is way too good at reading people. I’ve spent the afternoon with a goofy grin on my face, thinking about all the great things me and my old lady have to look forward to.

  “No, Ollie. This is literally the best quarter we’ve had since I took the place over, and I couldn’t have done it without you. You really have been a huge asset.” It’s true. I look around and everything is cleaner, brighter. There’s more good times than bad times. Less fights. Less violence. It’s still there, obviously, but not to the extent it was before. It’s becoming more and more
of a viable business every day.

  “Bet you didn’t see that coming,” she laughs. “You just were using me as a means to an end. Now look what you got!”

  “Everything. Everything I wanted and more.”

  The door swings open, sunlight peeking through the cracks and I look up to see a police officer. He doesn’t have his badge out, but his gun hangs at his hip. Everyone seated at the bar puts their heads down, trying to be discreet.

  “Jarvis, what the hell are you doing here? I already talked to Officer Stone about my incident the other day. I swear it was just a period thing,” Olive yells at him. “You know better than to come into this place unless you have a warrant. You trying to get yourself killed?”

  I have to hand it to her, she’s a hard-ass when it comes to protecting the integrity of the bar.

  “I’m gonna pretend like I didn’t hear that last part, Miss Remmer. Or the period part. I’m looking for Hank Boden, and this is the address I have on record for him. He was in a hit-and-run the other day, and I’m just following up.”

  My ears perk up. My runaway brother. His whole life he’s never been able to man up and face the music, and my father thinks that by hiding him away in the house, he’s protecting him from the world, when really all he’s doing is keeping him from growing up.

  “Nobody lives here, Jarvis,” Olive says indignantly. “It’s a fucking bar.”

  “Well if you see him around, can you give him my card?” he asks nervously, slipping it across the bar. You can tell the man just wants to get out of here, as now that everyone realizes they’re off the hook, everyone’s starting to stare at him.

  She picks it up and rips it in half.

  “What the fuck do you care? The only person he hurt is himself.”

  “A crime’s a crime, Olive.”

  “Get out of here, Jarvis. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

  It’s like she was made for this life.

 

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