Laney
“Paisley is set to leave the hospital tomorrow,” I tell Rourke over the phone.
Just when I was at the point of breaking down and begging the Lords for Rourke’s number, he finally called me on my office phone.
“I can’t get the doctor to keep her here any longer,” I continue. “Blake is breathing down his neck about it. As well as mine.”
“So we’re running out of time.”
I nod, even though Rourke can’t see me. “Yes.”
“Okay. Time to put the plan in place, then. We’ll get Mickey nabbed tomorrow. I need to talk to my guy, let him know when to be there. Can you get me an ETA on when Paisley’s gonna be discharged?”
“Mid-morning, probably,” I say. “And I know from Bethany that Mickey has taken her car from her. Which is shitty for her, but a stroke of luck for us, because he’ll have to be here to drive them home.” I scowl. “Unless he’s too much of a pig to even bother to show up, that is.”
“We’ll worry about that bridge if and when we come to it. For now, let’s just move to get the plan in place.”
I grin at the phone. “Operation Mouse Trap is on schedule for tomorrow, then.”
“Cheesy,” Rourke deadpans.
I start to reply, then my jaw drops as I realize what he just said.
“Did you just make a joke?” I marvel. “Wow, that was even worse than mine.”
“I’ll deny it to my grave,” he tells me. “Look, I gotta go. Got some club business to attend to. But I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“Okay.” My grin fades. “I hope this works.”
“It will.” There’s no doubt in his voice. “Don’t worry, darlin’. We got this.”
* * *
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Katie mutters. “It’s insanity, you know that?”
I don’t answer, because she has a point.
“We could both lose our jobs,” she continues.
“Not as long as we don’t get caught,” I reassure her. “And we won’t.”
It had taken three margaritas at our favorite Mexican place — on my tab — to convince Katie to help us with the plan to nab Mickey. Luckily, Mickey has been such an asshole to all of the nurses, too — especially Katie — that the prospect of paying him back eventually won her over. I felt a little guilty about plying my best friend with alcohol to get her on board, but I’m trying not to think about that now.
“Are you totally sure your biker isn’t setting you up?” Katie stops in the hallway, hands on her hips, and gives me a piercing look.
An unfortunate side effect of using alcohol to achieve my objective is that I was drinking, too — and in the process, I may have told Katie about Rourke kissing me in the coffee shop. Ever since, she has been referring to him as your biker.
To say I regret confiding in my best friend about this is an understatement at this point.
“Okay, first of all, for the last time, he’s not my biker,” I retort, feeling a flush of heat rise to my cheeks. “And second of all, that makes no sense. Why would Rourke be setting me up? He wants Mickey out of the picture as much as we do.”
The plan isn’t perfect, but it was the best we could come up with on short notice. Rourke put a tail on Mickey so we’d know right away the next time he showed up at the hospital. Since he’s still got Bethany’s car, it was relatively easy for the Lords to keep track of him, though I’m not exactly sure how they did it. Apparently, Rourke just got the call that he’s on his way here now.
The most important thing was making sure that Paisley and Bethany are safe, and that they have no idea it’s a set-up. We had to figure out a way to make Mickey walk right into the trap, without anyone else potentially getting hurt. And I think we’ve done that — even though anyone who bothered to think about it for very long would probably realize the whole thing sounded fishy.
Luckily, Mickey’s not the sharpest tool in the shed.
Rourke’s made sure that the Lords who normally stand guard outside Paisley’s room are gone this morning when Mickey shows up. I just happen to be paying her and Bethany a visit when he arrives. He gives me a sharp, defiant look when he sees me sitting at the foot of Paisley’s bed. When I don’t say anything, he sneers and turns to Bethany.
“When she getting out?” he asks, gesturing at Paisley.
“I guess in an hour or so,” Bethany tells him, giving me a furtive glance. “The doctor has been to see her this morning already. They’re getting her paperwork finished up, and the nurse is supposed to be in with some painkillers for her to take home with her.”
Right on schedule, Katie strolls into the room. She gives Mickey a sour glance, but like me, she doesn’t challenge his being here. “All right, Paisley,” she says breezily, smiling at the little girl. “We’re almost ready to get you out of here. I just have to go grab you some pills for Mom to give you if anything starts to hurt too bad.” She shakes her head and starts her performance.
“Getting meds for patients sure has changed,” she murmurs as she grabs Paisley’s chart and pretends to check some things off. “It used to be everything was all out in the open for us in a cabinet, to grab whatever we wanted. Now, we’ve got this machine that’s sort of like a vending machine. It’s great, though, don’t get me wrong! It’s got pretty much every painkiller and every type of med you need. All I have to do is log in and put in my fingerprint, and it opens right up! It’s all right there! Whatever you need, right in front of you! It’s pretty slick! Sure makes my life easier!”
I stare at the wall, struggling not to react or make eye contact. Don’t lay it on too thick, Kate, I silently beg her in my head.
“So, I’m gonna go down there and grab you what you need, honey,” she finishes, nodding at all of us. “I’ll be back in just a bit.”
Katie exits the room, strolling away so casually I almost laugh — except I’m far too nervous to find this very funny.
For about ten seconds, Mickey doesn’t react. My stomach sinks as I start to think he’s not going to take the bait.
But then, just as I’m about ready to lose hope, he pushes himself off the wall he’s been leaning against.
“I’m gonna go take a leak,” he announces.
Mickey strides out of the room. A couple of seconds later, there’s a light tap at the door and Yoda comes in. He makes brief eye contact with me, then turns to Paisley and Bethany.
“So, sounds like someone gets to go home today!” he grins at the little girl. “You excited?”
“Yeah,” she nods, lifting a shoulder. “Except I don’t want to go back to school.”
“Aw, but you have that cool cast, now,” Yoda admonishes her. “You look like a bada—… like a real tough chick. You could tell the kids at school you got it by beating up a bad guy or something.”
Paisley giggles, ducking her head. “That’s lying!”
I listen to Yoda banter back and forth with Paisley and her mom. Minutes pass. Or maybe they’re seconds, I don’t know. I start to get more and more anxious. Now that Yoda’s here, keeping an eye on the two of them, I’m suddenly a bundle of nerves — practically jumping out of my skin, wanting to know what’s happening with Mickey.
I sit there as long as I can stand it. Then, abruptly, I stand up.
“I just wanted to check in with you two on my way to my office,” I say, casually. “I’ll be back in time to say goodbye to you, Paisley, okay?” I shoot a look at Bethany. “I’m still working on getting you some financial help for Paisley’s stay. I just want you to know I haven’t forgotten.”
“Thank you,” Bethany says gratefully. “I really appreciate it.”
I go out into the hallway — dying to turn toward the wing with the med closet, but wanting to be as inconspicuous as possible. I wander to the closest restroom, wash my hands, come back outside, grab a drink at the drinking fountain. All the while, I’m trying to act nonchalant, but my nerves are jangling. Is it over yet? Did Mickey go without a figh
t? Or did they not catch him? Is it possible he didn’t take the bait — that he really did leave just to go to the bathroom?
Maybe Mickey’s smarter than he seems. Maybe he suspected we were trying to set him up, somehow. If so, that could mean Katie’s in danger. Should I go check on her? Should I—
It’s at that moment, just when I’m starting to work myself into a real panic, that I hear the shouting. Mickey’s unmistakeable voice resounds down the hall, followed by a loud crash, then more yelling.
“Fuck you, man! I didn’t do nothin’! This is fucking bullshit, man! I’ll kick your ass!”
I join a rapidly forming group of curious people, now moving down the corridor in the direction of the noise. Thank God for gawkers. On the way, I pass Katie, heading in the other direction. As she passes me, she catches my eye, reaches out her hand, and gives me a low-five without stopping.
Rounding the corner is a uniformed police officer, about thirty years old, in good shape with just the beginnings of a receding hairline. He looks like Prince William, if Prince William packed on about thirty pounds of muscle and the beginnings of a dad bod. He’s pushing a handcuffed Mickey in front of him, who’s still struggling and yelling intermittently.
Belatedly, I realize I need to be acting like someone who doesn’t know what’s going on.
“What happened?” I call to the officer as he passes, loud enough for people to hear me ask.
“Just caught this guy breaking into one of the med dispensaries,” he answers when he sees my hospital lanyard. Thankfully, we haven’t met, so he has no idea I’m in on the whole thing. “Caught him in a scuffle with one of the nurses in a room with a med dispensary machine. He was stuffing fistfuls of Vicodin and anything else he could get his hands on into his pockets.”
“It ain’t what it looked like!” Mickey yells.
“Like hell it ain’t,” the cop says, pushing him forward. “You have the right to remain silent, you piece of shit, and I highly suggest for your own benefit you do so.”
I barely manage to suppress my elated laughter as I watch the policeman continue to drag Mickey down the hallway. I lag about ten feet behind the rest of the crowd that’s formed, biting back a smile.
My amusement is short-lived, though, when the door to Paisley’s room opens. Bethany comes out just in time to watch her boyfriend being led away in cuffs. And of course, unlike me, she’s not at all happy to see it.
“Mickey!” she cries out. “What’s going on?”
“They’re fuckin’ arrestin’ my ass!” he yells back. “You gotta get me out!”
“What for?” she cries. But the officer pushes him in the back again and tells him to shut up before Mickey can reply.
“You sit tight,” I tell Bethany, feeling suddenly guilty. “Go in with Paisley. I’ll be back in a second to tell you everything I can find out.”
Yoda comes out of Paisley’s room to lead her back inside. Reluctantly, Bethany goes with him. The officer pushes Mickey into the elevators, and I take the stairs down so I can honestly report back. I rush to the front entrance just in time to beat them there.
“Excuse me, officer,” I say hurriedly. “This man’s girlfriend has a child who’s a patient here. What should I tell her about what happens next?”
The cop gives me an impassive look, then cocks his head. He seems to be considering whether to answer me, but his eyes flick down to my lanyard and badge. Finally, he shrugs. “I’m taking him down to the station to book him into the jail. There’ll be a bond schedule, so he could pay right away to get out.” His eyes glint with just a hint of amusement. “But I guarantee you, he can’t afford it.”
Back upstairs, I find Yoda consoling Bethany, who’s freaking out.
“What am I going to do?” she wails, distraught. “I don’t have any money to get him out!”
For the first time, it occurs to me that it’s possible we may have just added to her problems instead of helping her. Of course she’d feel like it’s her job to bail Mickey out of jail. My stomach starts to churn as I worry this was all a big mistake.
But then Yoda speaks up.
“He got himself into this,” he soothes her. “He can get his own self out. This ain’t your problem, Bethany.”
“But…”
“No buts. He’s a grown-ass man.” He glances at Paisley and winks. “Sorry about the bad word, sweetheart.”
Paisley giggles. “It’s okay.”
“Mickey was coming to take us home,” Bethany murmurs. “He’s still got the keys to my car! I…”
“I’ll get y’all home,” Yoda says, interrupting her. “You’ll be fine.”
Bethany looks at him and smiles gratefully.
“Okay,” comes a voice from the open doorway. We all turn to see Katie standing at the threshold. “Now that all the commotion is over, let’s get Paisley discharged!”
I leave them to it, promising Bethany I’ll be in touch very soon. Then, sighing, I exit Paisley’s hospital room, thankful things seem to have worked out okay, at least for now.
One thing seems odd, though. Rourke told me over the phone yesterday that he’d “see me tomorrow.” I assumed that meant he’d be here to witness Mickey’s takedown. I wonder if he’s gotten held up somewhere — or whether I should have tried to call him when Mickey showed up here.
I realize with a sinking heart that I was looking forward to seeing him. Now that Mickey’s taken care of, and Paisley will be leaving the hospital, it’s very possible I might never run into Rourke Powers again.
I’m not proud of it, but I’m a lot more disappointed than I have any right to be.
I go back to my office and sit down at my desk to try to work. But the excitement of the last half-hour has my brain in a jumble. I spend the rest of the day idly surfing the net, looking at cat videos, and trying unsuccessfully to focus. This isn’t like me; normally, I love my job, and I’m not much of a procrastinator, even for tasks I find uninspiring.
By the time five o’clock rolls around, I’m cranky, impatient, and nursing the beginnings of a headache. Frustrated, I push my laptop away from me and don’t even consider taking any work home. I need a break.
As I walk out of the hospital entrance, I’m already trying to think of something more inspiring to do this evening than a load of laundry and a meal of leftovers. I don’t even notice the lone figure leaning against the low brick wall separating the front walk from the decorative landscaping behind it.
“So,” a familiar voice rumbles, startling me out of my thoughts. “Mission accomplished, I hear.”
I laugh softly and turn toward Rourke.
“Mission accomplished,” I smile.
“You in the mood to celebrate?”
A week ago — hell, even a few days ago — I wouldn’t have even considered going somewhere alone with Rourke. But now, my stomach jumps with nervous excitement.
“Yeah,” I answer, trying to ignore the shiver that runs down my spine when his eyes lock on mine. “Yeah, I really am.”
17
Laney
Rourke wants me to go with him on his bike, but one glance at the tailored straight skirt I’m wearing changes his mind.
“Head home and change,” he directs me. “Give me your address and I’ll be by in half an hour or so.”
My pulse is thudding in my temples as I tell him where I live. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” His eyes twinkle as they slide over my body. “Wear something you can ride in. If I didn’t make that clear.”
I’m fighting against nerves as I drive home to the tiny house I rent on the north side of Ironwood. I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle before. Hell, I’ve never even touched a motorcycle before. I have no idea what to wear, and I’m half-afraid I won’t have the guts to climb on the back of a large, black machine like the one Rourke drives.
But as scared as I am, I push down my worry. Because I don’t want Rourke to think I’m a ninny.
Figuring wherever Rourke is taki
ng me won’t be someplace high-end and snooty, I opt for my oldest, most casual jeans. They’re the comfiest thing I own, but they also hug my butt and thighs in a way I know is flattering. A simple white T-shirt is next, and thankfully I have a leather jacket that’s just casual enough, without looking like I’m trying too hard for a “biker chick” look. I start to pull on some high-heeled shoes, then rethink that and grab some booties with just a little bit of a heel.
When I look in the mirror, I’m suddenly filled with doubt. This seems crazy, to be going out with him. I mean, is this actually a date? Or a hookup? Or something else? I have no idea what I’ve just agreed to. I’ve never even seen Rourke outside of the hospital. I don’t know what he expects of me — if he even expects anything at all.
I grab a ponytail holder and pull back my dark hair, hoping that way it won’t get too tangled up in the wind. Then, since I still have a little time, I run to the bathroom and brush my teeth, then reapply some of my makeup. The doorbell rings just as I’m putting on fresh lipstick, and I jump and let out a little squeak of nerves. Laughing at myself, I stick out my tongue at my reflection.
“Calm down,” I tell the woman in the mirror. “This is no big deal. You’re just going out to have a good time. That’s all.”
Unfortunately, she doesn’t look at all convinced.
Rourke is standing on the cement stoop when I open the front door. His large body practically fills the entire opening. He hasn’t changed clothes or anything since I last saw him less than an hour ago. But somehow he looks different, outside the sterile environment of the hospital.
“You look good.” A corner of his mouth tilts up. “You ready?”
Not trusting my voice, I nod and push open the screen door. I had the foresight to only bring a small crossbody purse, and after I’ve locked the door behind me, I drop my keys into it and follow Rourke down the small path to my driveway, where his motorcycle is parked.
“You ever ridden on the back of a bike before?” When I shake my head no, he doesn’t look surprised. “I brought you a helmet. Here, put this on.”
Iron Will: Lords of Carnage: Ironwood MC Page 11