Iron Will: Lords of Carnage: Ironwood MC

by Loveling, Daphne

  Aha. So, she does think the guy’s bad news. Fuckin’ finally. My blood pressure falls a little bit.

  “So, why can’t you keep him away from her since he got in a fight with me yesterday?” I challenge. “You can say he’s violent, and poses a threat to the other patients?”

  “Well…” Her mouth twitches just a little. “As I understand it, technically, you were the one who hit him. So, technically, if anyone should be thrown out of this hospital, it should be you.”

  I almost get mad again, but then I see the twinkle in her eyes.

  “But you’re not gonna do that, are you?” I ask.

  She snorts softly. “No. I’m not going to do that. Frankly, I…” she looks down again, as though she shouldn’t be saying what she’s thinking. “Frankly, I can’t say it didn’t give me some satisfaction to hear about it.” She looks back up at me. “That’s not very professional, is it?”

  “No, but it’s human. The guy’s a dirtbag.” Thank fuck. A chink in her armor.

  She purses her full, luscious-looking lips. “Look,” she mutters, a crease of stress wrinkling her forehead. “I’m not any happier about all of this than you are, Mr…”

  “Rourke.”

  She frowns. “Rourke’s your last name?”

  “No. Rourke’s my first name. Rourke Powers.”

  “Mr. Powers,” she corrects herself. “As I said, I’m not any happier about it than you are. But unfortunately, unless Paisley’s mother expressly tells us she doesn’t want him visiting her daughter, there’s nothing that can be done about it.”

  “Rourke,” I repeat. “And like hell there ain’t,” I growl. “Like hell there ain’t.”

  6

  Laney

  The next day, I come into work to find a phalanx of bikers stationed outside of Paisley’s room.

  Katie is standing at the nurses’ station as I walk down the hall. As soon as she catches sight of me, she takes a step forward, her eyes wide and brows raised. “I didn’t know what to do with them!” she hisses, glancing backward. “I tried to tell one of them they couldn’t be loitering around like that, but they said they’re all taking turns visiting their friend.”

  I roll my eyes. “Like hell they are,” I snort, unconsciously repeating Rourke’s phrase. I wasn’t sure to make of his cryptic remark yesterday. But now it’s obvious what he meant.

  Katie tells me that the bikers have been here for over an hour. As she’s talking, an older couple comes down the hall. They pass by the crowd of tattooed men, and skitter toward the far side of the corridor, the woman clutching nervously at the man’s arm. Once they’re past the group, they avert their eyes and walk as quickly as possible toward the elevators.

  “Oh, lord,” I mutter. “This isn’t going to work.”

  Taking a deep breath, I square my shoulders and walk toward the men. When I get to the edge of the group, I scan for Rourke, since he’s the only one besides the patient called Bear that I’ve actually spoken to. Not seeing him, though, I clear my throat and speak up.

  “Excuse me,” I call.

  The half-dozen men all turn to look at me. It’s a virtual wall of muscle, testosterone and ink. As their eyes settle on me in unison, my stomach does an unpleasant flip. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

  “I’m… uh…” I falter.

  I start to lose my nerve, but then think of a way that might buy me some cred and get them to take me seriously.

  “I’m looking for Rourke,” I announce in a clear, strong voice.

  The reaction I get is not what I was hoping for. One by one, they glance at each other, and start snickering. One does a wolf whistle. More than a couple of them look me up and down, so boldly I feel naked.

  “You need Rourke, do ya?” one of them chuckles. “I bet he’s more than happy to give you what you want. But if he ain’t, I’m willing to help you out, darlin’.”

  My face gets hot when I realize what he’s implying. I want to shoot back that is not what I meant, but I get the impression that the more I protest, the more they’ll razz me.

  “Look,” I try again, trying desperately to maintain at least a shred of professional demeanor. “I need to talk to him. Can you please tell me if you know where he is?”

  More laughter and hoots great my question. Thankfully, one of the men takes pity on me.

  “He’s in there, darlin’,” he smirks, lifting his chin toward Paisley’s room.

  “Seriously?” Shaking my head in disbelief, I turn toward the half-open door and push inside.

  The sight that greets me stops me in my tracks.

  Paisley is sitting up in bed, laughing and grinning like crazy. Beside her is a stuffed rabbit almost as big as she is. In the chair facing her, Rourke is doing coin tricks. Neither one of them notices me at first, and I stare in fascination as Rourke reaches his arm forward and pulls a quarter from the stuffed rabbit’s ear.

  “Huh,” Rourke says, feigning puzzlement. “I dunno where all this money’s coming from, but it sure as heck ain’t mine. I guess it belongs to you.”

  Rourke holds out the quarter, and waits. Paisley shyly dips her head, then reaches her palm outward. Rourke drops the coin, and Paisley’s fingers close around it. The tight fist she forms makes one thing clear: this is not a kid who takes money for granted.

  I clear my throat, which suddenly feels like it has a lump in it.

  “Good morning, Paisley. Do you remember me? Laney, from yesterday?”

  She glances over and gives me a shy smile. “Hi!”

  “How are you doing today?” I ask, taking a step forward.

  “Good! Rourke got me this!” She reaches around the stuffed rabbit with her non-broken arm and squeezes it to her like a long-lost friend.

  “Wow, what a nice rabbit!” I enthuse. “Have you named him yet?”

  “It’s a her,” Paisley corrects me. “Her name is Bunnifer.”

  “That’s a great name,” I say, stifling a giggle. Turning to Rourke, I say, “Can I please have a quick word with you? Outside?”

  Rourke frowns, then shrugs. “Sure.” He gets to his feet, and reaches toward Paisley, pulling a quarter out from behind her ear, as well. “You’re just full of money today,” he tells her, holding it up. He drops it into her hand, where it clinks against the first one.

  As Rourke follows me out of the room, I try not to be self-conscious that he might be staring at my butt. Our appearance in the hallway sparks a fresh round of hoots and catcalls, but Rourke tells the men to shut up, and they simmer down after a second.

  “Okay, what do you want to talk to me about?” he asks when we’ve passed them.

  “Let’s go somewhere a little quieter,” I reply, gesturing down the hall. “There’s a family lounge past the elevator bays.”

  As the two of us walk down the hall side by side, I’m once again acutely aware of how large he is. It’s amazing that Paisley isn’t intimidated by him. On the contrary, she seems to trust him completely. And I have to admit, the more I see him around her, the more I’d be shocked if he hurt her. As scary and rough as he is, he seems completely gentle where she’s concerned.

  Unlike her mother’s boyfriend.

  “The family lounge is right in here,” I murmur, turning into a small room on the left-hand side of the hall. The room itself is unoccupied save for one person, one of the janitorial staff who must be on break. He’s immersed in his phone, but when he looks up and sees me he quickly stands up and exits the room with a look of apology.

  “What was that about?” Rourke queries.

  “This isn’t a break room,” I explain. “Hospital staff aren’t supposed to be in here unless they’re using the room to talk with patients or their families.”

  The room itself is sparsely furnished and painted in warm tones, with a sink, microwave, a single-serve coffee maker, and stacks of paper beverage cups. I close the door so we won’t be disturbed. When I turn back to Rourke, I see his mouth curve into a smirk.

  “Y
ou don’t waste any time,” he chuckles. “If you wanted to jump my bones, you could’ve just asked.”

  I start to protest, feeling my face begin to flush. But then I see the glint in his eye and realize he’s joking. Probably.

  “Look,” I start, pretending to ignore his words. “I know what you’re trying to do. But you can’t. It’s against hospital policy.”

  “Against hospital policy for my brothers to visit Bear?” he asks innocently.

  I sigh. “Don’t do that.”

  “Don’t do what?”

  “Don’t pretend. Not with me.” I take a deep breath, hesitating, and then let it out. “I know we’re both worried about Paisley. And I get that you’re trying to protect her. But the hospital isn’t going to let your club stand guard outside her room twenty-four seven.”

  “Don’t need to do it twenty-four seven,” he counters. “Just during visiting hours.”

  “Rourke…”

  My voice trails off, because I don’t know what to say. His gaze jumps to mine, and I realize I’ve never actually called him by his first name before. Here in this room, alone just the two us, the word feels intimate, hanging there between us. Almost like I’ve somehow crossed an invisible line that was keeping us on opposite sides of this problem.

  I really should be doing a better job of keeping my professional bearing with him. But every time I try, he cuts right through it. As though he knows it’s B.S. Fundamentally, there’s something about Rourke that makes me feel utterly without defenses.

  My stomach is fluttering nervously. I can’t figure out why it is that he has this much of an effect on me. And worse, I can’t decide whether I hate it or not.

  For a long moment Rourke’s eyes linger on my face, dark and penetrating. I realize I haven’t said anything since calling him by his name. I try to look away, but it’s as though he’s pinned me like a butterfly. My heart begins to speed up and thud in my chest.

  Finally, I manage to break his gaze.

  “You’re good with her,” I say softly, looking down.

  “I had a little sister growing up,” he replies, a touch gruffly. “I ain’t that great with kids, but I had to babysit her a fair amount. I guess it comes back to you.”

  Rourke has a little sister. It’s a strange concept to wrap my head around. Somehow, he doesn’t seem like someone who has a family — or even a childhood. It’s almost like he born just like this: Rugged. Hard. All man.

  “How long you gonna keep her here?” Rourke asks. His deep baritone is almost like a caress — low and intimate. My body reacts almost viscerally to it. I find myself struggling against a growing attraction to this man that I barely know. I don’t know what it is about him that makes me want to push away all the layers of our respective existences that are separating us right now. The very layers that are protecting me from something I should probably be a lot more afraid of than I am.

  And that in itself shakes me.

  Instinctively, I retreat into the persona I use whenever need to reestablish a professional distance here at work. “That’s not information I can give out to someone who’s not a member of the family,” I begin.

  But then, I stop, suddenly hating the officious tone I’m taking with him.

  I risk a look at him and see that he’s scowling. He sees exactly what I’m doing. Suddenly, I’m a little ashamed of myself. I blow out a breath and try again.

  “Look, I’m sorry. But…” I continue, biting my lip. “I’m doing my best to make sure that Paisley is going to be safe when she leaves here. I promise you that.”

  “You’re worried about her, too,” he says. Almost imperceptibly, his eyes lose a little of their hardness.

  “Yes. I am.” I think back to the bruise on Paisley’s arm. The one I still haven’t managed to talk to Bethany about yet.

  “I’m doin’ something about it while she’s here,” Rourke continues. “But what about when she goes home? Her mom’s asshole boyfriend will still be there. You can’t protect her then.” His jaw sets, and he points a thumb to his chest. “But I can.”

  “Rourke, what are you —” I begin, but a commotion outside stops me.

  “Oh, shit,” he mutters, and pulls open the door.

  7

  Rourke

  Sure enough, when we step out into the hallway, Mickey is here, surrounded by the Lords. He’s shouting and gesturing, taking feinting half-steps forward, like he’s gonna hit Dante.

  Even though I’m mad, I bust out laughing at what a dipshit he is. Dante could fuckin’ flatten Mickey’s dumb ass with one punch.

  Laney cuts a sharp look at me, but doesn’t ask why I’m laughing. When we get to the crowd, Dipshit sees me and starts yelling, “This is a free country! I got every right to be here.”

  “Sure as shit is,” I agree, coming to a stop in front of him as Dante and Rogue grab him by the shoulders. “Ain’t no one stopping you from being in this hospital.” I nod at Paisley’s room. “Right up to that doorway, there. The second you cross that threshold, you’re dead meat, son.”

  “You ain’t got no right!” he yells.

  “No? Well, I’m still doin’ it.” I cross my arms. “You gonna calm the hell down, or do I have to have my brothers take you outside and convince you to calm down?”

  “What is going on here?”

  A male voice I don’t recognize booms out in the hall. I turn as a skinny guy with slicked back nineties hair and an expensive suit comes charging toward us.

  “Who’s this little prick?” mutters Dante.

  Beside me, Laney groans. “Blake Barber,” she answers, half to herself. “He’s the main hospital administrator. Basically, my boss.”

  “What is going on here?” Blake Fucking Fancy Motherfucker Barber says again as he comes to a stop in front of us. He skims over all of us with his eyes, then addresses Laney like we’re not even goddamn here.

  “Who are these people, and why are they causing a disruption in my hospital?”

  My hospital. Oh, brother.

  “This asshole is the one causing the disruption,” Rogue growls, shaking Mickey by the shoulder. “We’re just makin’ sure he stops making the disruption.”

  “Get your fuckin’ hands off me!” Mickey yells, starting to struggle. But even though he’s ripped from the obvious hours he spends pumping iron at the gym, he ain’t got the fighting skills God gave a duck. Rogue grabs his arm and yanks it behind him, bending his elbow up hard. Mickey cries out and stops struggling instantly.

  Fuckin’ pussy.

  “See what I mean?” Rogue grins. “Causin’ a disruption.”

  “The hospital has security on staff,” Blake Fucking Barber retorts. “It’s their job to take care of disruptions. Not yours.” His eyes narrow. “And right now, you people are doing your share of disrupting yourself.”

  I swear to Christ, if he says that fuckin’ word again, I’m gonna shove my fist straight down his throat.

  Laney swallows and speaks up. “Blake,” she says in a soothing voice. “These men have every right to be here. They’re visiting their friend, in that room there. They’ve been nothing but respectful of the rules. If there’s a problem here, I’m sure they didn’t start it.”

  Huh. A day ago, I’m pretty sure Laney would have sided with the administrator asshole. She probably would have been glad to see all of us thrown out on our ears.

  Looks like she’s figured out we aren’t the enemies here. Maybe she’s not as stuck up as I thought she was.

  The administrator guy’s eyes slide down to Laney’s tits. She notices it, too.

  By the way she purses her lips in response, it’s pretty clear she doesn’t like it one bit.

  And by the lack of surprise on her face, it’s also pretty clear it ain’t the first time.

  Finally, his eyes go back up to her face. He sucks on his teeth for a second, like he’s evaluating something. Laney’s eyes flicker, but she doesn’t look away.

  “You all need to break this up,” he announce
s, looking at my brothers. “I cannot have gang fights going on in my hospital.” He turns to me then, somehow deciding I’m the leader. “You will not loiter in the hall. Here or anywhere else. Am I understood?”

  I will hand it to this self-important prick. He actually seems to think my brothers and I are gonna listen to him. He seems to thinks we give a fuck what he thinks.

  “Stop us,” I say.

  My calm tone takes him by surprise. Flinching a little, he takes a step back. Just then, Paisley’s mom comes running down the hall towards us.

  “What’s going on?” she stammers, looking at Mickey.

  “Your boyfriend’s gettin’ taught some manners,” I tell her.

  “Mickey…” she murmurs plaintively, her face crumpling. “Please don’t…”

  Angrily, he wrestles himself away from Rogue and Dante. “I ain’t done a damn thing!” he explodes. Grabbing her arm, he yanks her toward him, pulling her with him toward the elevators.

  Laney takes a half-step forward, like she wants to help the mom. The look on her face as she watches them go is full of shock and sadness.

  Mickey turns back to us as he struts down the hall, flipping the bird as he tries to salvage what’s left of his dignity. “I ain’t gonna put up with this shit!” I hear him shouting as they go.

  I consider going after him. But as I glance over at Laney’s crumpled expression, I decide against it.

  With Mickey gone, the tension in the hallways eases. But the administrator prick isn’t done with his pissing contest.

  “I don’t want to hear about any more trouble from you. Understood?” he announces. He raises a hand and starts to point a finger at me, but I think the look I give him convinces him pretty quick it ain’t a good idea.

  He lowers his hand.

  “Look,” I growl at Blake Fucking Pissant Barber. “You get that ass wipe outta here,” I say, flicking my thumb toward Mickey’s retreating form, “And you won’t have anything to worry about. He’s the only one we got a problem with around here.” Other than you, that is.