by Aja Foxx
Harry deserved better than that.
Sleep didn't take me easily. By the time my alarm went off, I felt as if I had only gotten a few hours of rest, and even those had been filled with dreams—or nightmares depending on your opinion—of Butch and the clubhouse and one particular bearded biker that made my pulse go faster every time I thought about him.
I really needed to not be thinking about him.
I went through my morning routine of jogging five miles then coming home to shower and dress for my day. I grabbed a bagel on my way out the door and headed for work.
I was lucky that things were pretty light for the day because I don't think my mind was really in my work. It was stuck on my upcoming meeting with Butch and how I could convince him to donate his bone marrow.
By the time I clocked out, I was ready to go home. I knew I still needed to go by and talk to Butch, but I wasn't going to do that until I had a shower and scrubbed off the guts and blood from the day.
As soon as I pulled out of the hospital parking lot, I noticed the motorcycle following me. I was pretty sure I only noticed because I was thinking of how much I truly did not want to go back among all those bikers.
I really wasn't interested in watching someone get spit roasted right out there in the main room. I liked sex as much as the next person, but I didn't have sex in front of others. Just thinking about it made me shiver.
I dismissed the biker from my mind as I pulled into the parking lot of my local grocery store. I needed a few things for dinner and I wouldn't mind a good bottle of wine. I kind of deserved it after the last couple of days.
I parked and then went inside. It didn't take me long to grab my groceries. I knew what I wanted. I topped the list off with the bottle of wine I'd been thinking about. I wouldn't drink it when I got home right now, but after I visited Butch, it would be a welcome respite.
My arms were full with two grocery bags when I walked out of the store. I dug my remote start out of my back pocket and clicked the button to start the car and unlock it.
I screamed as I was thrown back by the force of the blast as my car exploded. I landed hard, cracking my head on the hard pavement. For a moment, the world around me faded in and out. I blinked wildly until it came back into focus then sucked in a breath that made my chest ache.
"Dude, are you okay?" A store clerk came into my line of vision. "You totally caught air, man."
Lucky me.
Another face appeared over the top of me. "Don't move," the woman said. "I called an ambulance, so you probably shouldn't move until they get here."
Yeah, no kidding.
I laid there on the ground not moving as I assessed any potential damage. Nothing felt broken, but that didn't mean I didn't have some sort of internal damage. I'd been hit pretty hard by the blast.
Fuck! My car!
I turned my head toward the heat emanating from my burning car. "What happened?"
"Your car blew up, dude."
Yeah, I was kind of got that. I wanted to know why.
I was so relieved when I heard sirens. Help was here, which was good. Things were going a little blurry again. I knew I had a concussion, so that made sense.
God, I hurt.
The flashing red and blue lights made my head ache so I closed my eyes. The next thing I knew, I was moving. When I opened my eyes, I could see a paramedic taking my pulse. "I'm pretty sure I'm going to live, Carmen."
It would just be really painful for awhile.
"Dr. Nash." The paramedic leaned over me. I'd worked the emergency room long enough to get to a first name basis with most of the paramedics in the city. "Do you remember what happened?"
"My car blew up."
She nodded. "Nothing seems broken, but you passed out so we're taking you to Metro Hospital just to be sure. We should be there in a few minutes."
"I'm going to need a CT scan. I hit my head pretty hard when I landed."
The paramedic nodded again as she reached for the mic attached to her shirt. "I'll call ahead and let the emergency physician know."
I waited until she had called it in before asking, "Do you know who's on duty tonight?" There were some doctors I didn't like dealing with. Pompous assholes, the lot of them.
"I believe Dr. Susie has the ER shift tonight."
Okay, her I could deal with.
"Do they know why my car exploded?"
"No, but I heard a couple of the police officers talking and they don't think it was an accident. Who do you know who would want to kill you?"
My jaw clenched as a slow burning anger ignited in my gut.
I could think of only one man.
Chapter Four
~ Henry ~
"I'm fine, Susie."
"You're not fine, damn it," Dr. Susie Carter snapped. "You have a concussion, a gash on the back of your head that took six stitches to close, and numerous bruises and abrasions. You're lucky you're not dead. You should be admitted."
"No."
No way in hell.
The old adage that doctors did not make good patients was totally true. I was a horrible patient and I was fully aware of that fact. Right now, I was embracing it.
"I just want to go home."
"You need someone to watch over you for the next twenty-four hours. You know that."
"Fine, I'll find some resident who wants to earn a little extra credit and take him home with me."
Susie glared at me.
"I'm fine, Susie." I leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. She was a good friend and a great doctor. "I'll call you in the morning."
"Fine, but you'd better call me." Susie signed my discharge papers then ripped them off the clipboard and handed them to me. "If you don't call—"
I held up my hand. "I'll call, Susie. I promise." I just wanted to go home, shower, then crawl into my bed. "Better yet, why don't you call me in like four hours?"
Susie frowned. "You're not taking a resident home with you, are you?"
I chuckled. "Not a chance in hell."
Susie rolled her eyes. "Make sure you eat something and keep your wound area clean."
I knew all of this. I wasn't sure why Susie felt the need to give me discharge instructions. She was probably just trying to get back at me for refusing to be admitted.
I waved as I got my jacket and headed out of the emergency room. All I wanted to do at this point was go home. My head ached, every inch of my body ached, and I knew it was just going to get worse. I couldn't wait to see what tomorrow brought. I was going to be one big bruise.
Before I could get to the large sliding doors, they slid open and two men in suits walked in. I took one look at the badges clipped on their belts and knew they were here for me. I groaned quietly to myself. I really didn't want to deal with this right now. I knew I needed to, but again, I just wanted to go home.
I waited until they walked past me and headed for the nurses' station before darting out the door. I hailed the first cab I saw, climbed inside, and then gave the driver directions to my house.
As we headed out, I spotted a guy sitting on a red and chrome colored motorcycle in the parking lot. It wasn't Butch. Butch had a beard. This guy didn't. It wasn't the guy I'd been dreaming about either. Again, he didn't have a beard. I had no idea why I felt the need to slouch down in my seat, but every instinct for self preservation I had said this guy was bad news.
Once we pulled out of the parking lot and got on the road, I turned and looked out the back window to make sure the guy wasn't following us.
He wasn't, thank god.
Still, my heart beat a little faster until I saw my apartment building come into view. I had the driver pull up right in front of the building, tossed him some money that, luckily, I had in my pocket, then climbed out and hurried inside.
Instead of rushing directly to the elevator, I walked over to the security desk. "Rocco."
The security guard glanced up and then smiled. "Evening, Dr. Nash."
"There was an accident tonig
ht on my way home from work. I—"
"Are you okay?"
"Oh, yes, thank you for asking." I didn't really want to share my medical condition. "Until further notice, everyone is to be buzzed up. And if anyone comes by tonight, I'm unavailable."
I really needed some sleep.
"Of course, sir."
I sent the man a tight smile. "Thank you, Rocco."
I had no idea what the man was thinking as I walked away, but I could feel his eyes on me all the way to the elevator. When the elevator reached the ground floor and the doors slid open, I quickly stepped inside.
I wasn't scared of Rocco. He'd been the night security guard before I even bought my penthouse. I was just a bit uncomfortable with someone watching me so intently, especially after the night I'd had.
When I got upstairs, I locked the elevator so no one could access my floor unless they were police, fire, or medical. I dropped my keys in the little glass bowl by the door then went about my normal evening routine. It felt good to have some normalcy.
I stripped my clothes off in the bathroom and dropped them into the garbage can instead of the hamper. I doubted there was any saving them. I couldn't wash my hair because I didn't want to get soap on my stitches, at least not until tomorrow, but I could take a shower and wash off the rest of the evening.
I stood in the shower, letting the hot water spray down on my shoulders for the longest time. If I wasn't worried I would fall asleep, I'd take a soak in Epson salt in my tub. As it was, I knew I needed to eat something and then get my ass into bed before I fell down. My legs were shaky as shit and my head was swimming.
I cleaned up quickly, winced as I ran a washcloth over every bump and bruise. After rinsing off, I grabbed a towel from the warming rack and dried off. Having a warming rack was a total luxury and I loved mine. I would never give it up.
I pulled on my pajamas. As much as I wanted to head right to bed, I made myself go to the kitchen and get something to eat. I needed to take some pain meds before bed and I couldn't do that on an empty stomach.
I went with a simple peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It wasn't what I should probably be eating, but it would do. I ate it slowly in case my stomach couldn't handle it. On my way out of the kitchen, I grabbed a bottle of water. I set it down on the nightstand then went into the bathroom to grab some over the counter pain meds.
Before crawling into bed, I made sure my cell phone was sitting on the nightstand. I knew Susie would be calling at some point. I also set the alarm to go off every two hours. I'd hate it, but I'd hate dying even more.
I knew there was one more thing I needed to do before I went to bed. I called my brother.
"Hey," Harry said.
"Hey," I replied. "So, I didn't get the chance to go talk to Butch today."
"Henry."
"Look, I planned on it, but I stopped off at the grocery store on the way home. When I came out of the store, my car blew up."
"What? Are you serious?"
"Perfectly." This wasn't really something I could joke about. "I ended up spending the evening in the ER, and before you ask, I have a concussion and a few scrapes and scratches, but other than that, I'm fine."
"Fuck, Henry."
Yeah, pretty much.
"Seriously, I'm okay. Just kind of beat up. I'm going to get a good night's sleep tonight and then I'll go see Butch tomorrow. I promise."
"Do you need to be in the hospital?"
"No, I'm good. Susie looked me over and then signed me out." I didn't mention that she hadn't wanted to release me. "She's going to check on me in a couple of hours."
"Are you sure you're going to be okay?"
"Yes, Harry, I'm sure." Well, sort of. I wasn't about to tell my brother what the paramedic had told me about the explosion. He didn't need the added stress. "I'm pretty beat so I'm going to go. I'll call you tomorrow."
"Don't forget you're supposed to come to dinner on Sunday."
Dinner...oh crap!
"Don't tell Mom or Dad that I was in an accident. They'll flip."
"I'm medicated, Henry, not stupid."
Depending on the medication, it could be both.
"Just don't say a word to them. I'll explain everything on Sunday, and hopefully, I'll have good news for everyone."
"That would be good," Harry replied. "Night, bro."
"Night, Harry."
I reluctantly hung up and set my phone on the nightstand. I knew I wasn't going to be awake much longer. My body was telling me that I really needed to sleep and heal. I groaned as I scooted down in my bed and snuggled under the covers. I was so not looking forward to waking up. I was going to be hurting so much.
* * * *
I groaned as I cracked one eye open and then the other. I pretty much wanted to die right now. Everything from the top of my head to the bottoms of my feet hurt.
My hair follicles hurt.
I winced when I heard someone pounding on my front door. It sounded like drums inside my head. I gingerly rolled to the side of the bed and sat up. I reached over to check my phone to see if I had a message from Rocco, but there was nothing.
Which begged the question, who was at my front door?
I slowly stood then grabbed the robe off the bottom of the bed and pulled it on.
Yeah, I know, pajamas and a robe were weird. It was something I'd learned from my father. He always wore pajamas to go to bed and a robe over his pajamas if he was moving about the house.
I tied the straps of the robe around my waist and then made my way out of my bedroom and through my spacious penthouse to the front door. The pounding increased in noise level and frequency.
I yanked the door open and held my finger to my lips. "Ssshhh."
Why did people have to be so noisy?
My head was going to explode.
I was sure of it.
"Dr. Henry Nash?"
"Yes?" I recognized these two men from the hospital emergency room. They were detectives. I was pretty sure I knew why they were here.
"I'm Detective Ross." The older man flashed me his badge. "This is Detective Jenkins. We'd like to talk to you about your car."
"My car?"
"There was an incident last night—"
"Yes, my car exploded." I had kind of been there. I knew what had happened.
"We'd like to talk to you about that," the younger detective said. "May we come in?"
I didn't think I could stop them so I stood back, pulling the door open, and then gestured for them to enter. "Can I get you some coffee? I was just getting ready to make a pot."
A huge pot.
"No, thank you," one of them answered.
I didn't care which one.
I headed right for the kitchen and turned on my coffee pot. As I watched it start to percolate almost instantly, I swore I was going to give my housekeeper a raise. She was a saint who made sure everything in my house ran like clockwork.
"Dr. Nash—"
I held up a finger then grabbed a white coffee cup and poured some coffee into it, even though it wasn't fully done. Luckily, I'd been a medical student, resident, and now doctor long enough to grow used to drinking my coffee black.
I took a long, glorious sip of coffee then turned to look at the two detectives. "Okay, how can I help you gentlemen this morning?"
"Our crime guys went over your car and I'm sorry to report that it wasn't an accident."
"I was afraid of that."
"It looks like someone placed a bomb in your car," Detective Jenkins said. "It was set to go off when you turned on the engine."
I sucked in a breath as the reality of how close I had come to dying hit me. I set my coffee cup down, afraid I would drop it. "It was a bomb?"
How?
Better yet, who?
"We've already received a report from the doctor at the emergency room on your injury as well as the crime scene report, but we'd like to get a statement from you concerning what happened with your car."
"I'm not exactly
sure what happened to my car. It was working fine when I left the hospital after my shift. I stopped at the grocery store to pick up a few things. When I got outside, I hit the remote start and unlocked the doors because my hands were full and it just exploded."
"You were lucky then," the older detective said. "If you hadn't hit that remote start, you'd probably be dead."
Yeah, I was starting to understand that.
"Do you have any idea how this could have happened?" Detective Ross asked.
"No." I shook my head. "I park it in the employee parking lot while I'm at work, and the parking garage downstairs requires a key to gain entry, but you'd probably do better to check the cameras in the store parking lot to see if someone messed with it."
The younger detective wrote something down on his notepad.
The other one just looked bored.
"Is there anyone you can think of who might want to harm you?" Detective Jenkins asked. "Former lovers, nasty neighbors, anyone who might have a beef with you? Anyone at all?"
My mind immediately went to the guy on the bike that had followed me from the hospital before my car exploded. I had no idea what made me hold my tongue as I shook my head. "No, no one."
"What about at work? Any problems there?"
"No, not really. I'm an emergency room doctor so I don't actually spend a lot of time with my patients. My job is to get them stable enough to get them to someone else."
"Anyone threaten you?"
"No, there's nothing to explain this. My life is pretty boring." By everyone's standards. "I get up, go to work, and then come home. My downtime is spent with my brother or researching a cure for his illness. I don't go out, I don't party, and I don't have wild friends. I don't even have a boyfriend."
I almost rolled my eyes when the older detective gave me a look of disgust. I felt sorry for people like him. People weren't born knowing hate. They had it taught to them by someone else, which meant, as some point in the detective's life, someone had taught him to hate and to not accept love in all its forms.
Too bad for him. He looked like he needed to get laid.
"You said your brother is ill..."
"Yes, he has leukemia." I swallowed tightly as my old frustration and sorrow swamped me. "If we don't find a match for him soon, he's not going to make it much longer."