Iron Will: Lords of Carnage: Ironwood MC

by Loveling, Daphne

  Axel considers for a second, then nods. “Maybe.”

  “Ain’t one of Angel’s men married to the daughter of their prez?”

  “Huh. I don’t know about that. But I know Angel and the prez of the Death Devils are solid.” Axel sits up in his chair. “I’ll talk to Angel about it. Fuck I’m not looking forward to this conversation.”

  “Angel ain’t gonna be pissed at our club. This ain’t about us. Fuck, we’re lucky we all got out alive.”

  “Yeah. Anyway, for now Indio gave me the new location of the drop-off. So we got a few days before we have to worry about it.”

  “You need me to go on the run?” I ask.

  “Nah. I got Dante on it. He’s got enough men to go with him.” For the first time, some semblance of humor appears on Axel’s face. “How’s your ass, anyway?”

  I snort. “It’s still attached to me.”

  “Good to know. So, what’s the story with bringin’ that hospital chick here last night?” he says then, lifting his chin toward the door.

  “Laney? Yeah. I brought here to see the kid and her mom. Figured she’d wanna know they’re safe.”

  “You sure it was a good idea? She seems kind of… straight arrow.” He huffs out a laugh. “Never would have taken her for the type to wanna take a walk on the wild side, you know?”

  “She ain’t as buttoned up as you’d think.”

  “Never would’ve taken you for the type to go for a chick like that, either.”

  I bristle. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Aw, calm the fuck down, Rourke. You know what I mean. You seem to like your chicks… easy, for lack of a better word. Uncomplicated.” He shakes his head. “That gash? She looks like a motherfuckin’ complication. Too much fuckin’ effort for pussy, if you ask me.”

  His words broadside me completely. A wave of fury rises up inside me, making me want to leap out of my chair and fuckin’ waste his ass. My fists clench tight against my thighs. My prez notices.

  “I hit a nerve?” he asks mildly.

  “No,” I lie, my jaw tensing. Blood starts rushing in my ears.

  Axel bursts out laughing, throwing his head back as he slides back into his chair. “You’re a fuckin’ pathetic liar, brother. You’re about a second away from kickin’ my ass. Not that you could.”

  “Jesus,” I hiss, clenching my fists harder. “You really want to head down the path to where this is gonna end up?”

  Axel raises his hands. “Naw, brother. I just wanted to figure out how far gone you were for this chick.” He chuckles. “Looks like the answer is, pretty fuckin’ far.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s my business,” I growl.

  A tap on the door jamb interrupts us. Scowling, I turn, just looking for an excuse to beat someone’s head in. It’s Yoda. He frowns, looking from me to Axel, then back at me.

  “Shit, what the hell did I interrupt?” he asks.

  “Nothing,” I growl. Axel just laughs.

  “Uh, okay,” Yoda says dubiously. “So, Rourke, I’m gonna go take Bethany to get her car. She wants to take Paisley back to school this afternoon. Then I guess she’s gonna go over to the hospital to talk to Laney about some shit.”

  “Okay,” I grunt. “Thanks for letting me know.” Roughly, I push back the chair I’m in and stand. “We done here?” I shoot at Axel.

  He smirks. “Sure thing, brother.”

  I flash him an angry glare, then turn and brush past Yoda and out of the office. I’ve had enough of my brothers meddling in my business for today. I don’t need to stick around and give Yoda a chance to start in, too.

  I’m muttering to myself as I make my way out the door of the clubhouse. My plan is to head back to my place, grab a shower, and then take the bike out on a long ride somewhere out of town. I need to clear my head for a while. And there’s nothing better for that than the open road.

  Because as fucking pissed off as I am right now, I have to admit, Axel was right when he said he hit a nerve.

  Outside, I straddle the seat of my Harley and fire it up. The deep rumble of the engine under me is as familiar as my own heartbeat.

  Having Laney at the clubhouse last night and this morning felt… good. Natural, even. You wouldn’t really think Laney would fit in here, but somehow, she did. And I liked having her here, with me. Seeing here there, shooting the shit with Gage’s old lady. It was like she belonged.

  Like she could belong to me.

  I don’t quite know what to make of this. I never saw it coming.

  Or hell, maybe I’m lying to myself. Maybe I’ve wanted this all along. I don’t know.

  All I know is, I want to keep seeing Laney. I want her on the back of my bike.

  I want her under me. I want her on top of me. I want her every way and any way I can have her.

  My cock stirs.

  Jesus. I think I’m gonna have to do something about this.

  Back at my place, I’m out of the shower, a towel wrapped around my waist, when I notice there’s a new message on my phone. It’s from Joe McBride, his personal cell.

  I don’t bother to listen to the message, just press reply pull the phone up to my ear.

  “Hey,” I say as soon as he answers. “I saw you called.”

  “Yeah. Just wanted to give you a heads up. Mickey King’s out on bond. His hearing was this morning. Judge set the bond at a thousand dollars, and someone bailed him out.”

  “You happen to get the name of the person?”

  “Yeah. A James Mazur.”

  Huh. So Jimmy Mazur loaned Mickey the money. I wonder what Mickey had to promise him in exchange.

  “Sucks that he’s out,” I remark, “but good to know. Thanks for tellin’ me. You got anything else?”

  “Just his court date.”

  Joe tells me when it is, but I’m not all that interested. Mickey might get jail time, he might not. My only concern is making sure I know his whereabouts from now until then. And making sure he leaves Paisley and her mom the fuck alone.

  I thank Joe and hang up, then get dressed. I call Yoda and leave him a message, letting him know Mickey’s out. After that, I head out on my ride, thinking I might take a detour back over to Jimmy Mazur’s place on the way back. See if he knows what hole Mickey has crawled into.

  25

  Laney

  “Laney.”

  Blake Barber’s voice is dry as a husk.

  Final.

  Definitive.

  “I need to see you in my office. Now.”

  A few minutes later, I’m perched in the impossibly uncomfortable chair that sits across from him, looking at him over the expanse of his desk. I swear he chose this thing on purpose, just to make it suck more to be in here.

  I haven’t had the chance to talk to Katie about whether Blake has questioned her yet. But given my presence in his office right now, my assumption is that he has. And that she had to throw me under the bus to protect her own job. So, as I sit in silence, waiting for Blake to speak, I steel myself for the worst.

  I’m going to be questioned, and I’m going to have to give him the version of the story I’ve crafted in my mind. The one where Katie had absolutely nothing to do with trapping Mickey. I hope my acting chops are up to the task.

  But as it turns out, Blake has called me in here for a completely different reason.

  “I cannot fathom why you are consorting with an obvious criminal, Laney,” he states, his mouth twisted with contempt.

  I expect him to say more, but apparently he thinks that’s enough. And that apparently, he also thinks I owe him some sort of explanation for showing up on the back of Rourke’s bike just now.

  “Excuse me… what?” I squint at him in disbelief.

  “I have to tell you that I am extremely shocked and disappointed in you,” he says sternly.

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “Are you asking me to answer to you for what I choose do to on my own time?” I gape at him.

  “It certainly makes me questi
on your judgment,” he sniffs, pursing his lips. “And also makes me question your motives.”

  I’m not sure where this is heading, but I don’t like it one bit. “Motives? Motives about what? What are you talking about, Blake?”

  He narrows his eyes, for just a moment.

  “Delaney, you are an employee of this hospital,” Blake drones. “You have access to privileged information, and your integrity needs to be absolutely above question.” He’s chosen the sanctimonious air he uses when he wants to pull rank on an employee. “When I see you spending time with a man who clearly comes from the lowest rungs of society, I can only come to one of two conclusions. Either you are too stupid to realize he is playing you… or you are not too stupid. In which case, I have to assume you approve of, or even participate in, his criminal activity.”

  My whole body stiffens with anger. “I absolutely resent those implications,” I shoot back. “Both about me, and about Rourke.”

  “Aha. So you are too stupid to see it.” He shakes his head in exaggerated display of sadness.

  My heart is racing. My head is pounding. In less than ten seconds, I’ve gone from nervous but resolved, to angrier than I can remember being in years. Maybe in my life.

  “How dare you?” I hiss, half-rising from my chair. “You have no right to talk to me this way. Employee or not!”

  “Delaney, you are putting the safety of our employees and our patients at risk by having contact with that biker.” He says the word like it’s a disease. “I will not have that at my hospital.” He leans forward, all pretense of above-it-all sanctimony gone. His eyes are blazing now — with anger, and something else that I only now am starting to see.

  Jealousy.

  Slowly, I start to understand. This is all about me rebuffing Blake’s advances. The fact that not only have I rejected him — but even worse, that I chose an outlaw biker over him — is a bigger blow to Blake Barber’s self-esteem than he can stand.

  He intends to punish me for it. To salvage his own ego.

  “You will promise me, right now. Right now, do you hear me?” His voice shakes with barely-concealed rage, as he bites off each word. “You will cease all contact with that biker. Both inside this hospital and out of it.”

  He stops speaking, glaring at me over his desk. It’s clear he expects me to speak. To grovel.

  But somehow, his fury ends up having the opposite effect on me.

  My heart is still pounding, my skin abuzz with adrenaline. But strangely, I feel calm. Absolutely calm.

  “I will not promise that,” I say quietly. “And I expect an apology from you. Right now.”

  “An apology from me?” Blake bursts into incredulous laughter. “Are you out of your mind?”

  “No?” I put my hands on the armrests of the impossibly uncomfortable chair and stand up. “Well, then. I quit. Effective immediately.”

  He flinches, and then blinks, as though he’s not sure what he’s just heard.

  “You can’t be serious,” he says uncertainly. His face is still fixed in the same stern expression, but his body posture has collapsed.

  I’ve stunned him. Outplayed him.

  “I am serious. I’m not your slave, Blake.” I wait a beat. “And I’m not your girlfriend, either. And never will be. That biker, as you call him, is twice the man you’ll ever be. And there’s nothing you could ever do or say to make me think any differently about that. Or him.”

  I lean over the desk, until my face is just inches from his.

  “I’m done with your bullshit, Blake. You’re a shitty boss, and a shitty human being. And one more thing: I suggest that you count your blessings that I’m not bringing sexual harassment charges against you. Yet.”

  I pause for a second, to let my words sink in. Then, I take a deep breath.

  “I also want you to know that I’m quite aware I’m not the only woman on staff here at the hospital you’ve made unwanted advances toward. Your record as regards your female employees is abysmal. Women talk, Blake. We talk about how you treat us. You’ve made a lot of enemies here. And up until now, you probably thought none of your bad behavior would bite you in the ass.

  “I’m not sure if you know this,” I continue, “but my father is Senator Rodney Hart, from Kentucky. I certainly have the means to assemble quite a legal team against you. And as it turns out, he’s quite friendly with the senior senator from Ohio. So…” I pause again. “I suggest you treat your staff — all of your staff — with nothing but the utmost respect and professionalism going forward. Especially the ones who are likely to talk to me after I leave here. Do you understand?”

  Blakes eyes are wide. He hasn’t moved a muscle.

  He swallows. I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs.

  “Goodbye, Blake.”

  Without waiting for an answer, I straighten myself to my full height, turn, and walk out of his office.

  Inside my brain, I’m doing a whoop of victory, even as part of me wonders what the hell I just did.

  I very well may have just committed career suicide. But it’s done now.

  And damn, did it feel good.

  I exit Blake’s office, doing a mental victory dance. Instead of heading to my office, I decide to go find Katie. I want to tell her I’m pretty sure Blake will drop the matter of Mickey following her into the med closet, and why. And also, I want to make sure she hears the news that I’m leaving from me before anyone else.

  Unfortunately, when I get up to the nurses station on the second floor, I remember that today’s her day off. I chat for a few minutes with Megan, one of the nurses on duty, not letting on that there’s anything unusual. Then I go back to my office to start cleaning out my desk, still on a high of adrenaline and righteous pride. I’ll call Katie later, and tell her the news.

  It’s only when my cell phone rings and I check the screen that it hits me how badly I’ve just screwed up.

  “Hi, Bethany,” I answer, my voice suddenly sounding very far away in my head.

  “Laney! I’m so sorry to ask you this, but I really need help. Mickey just stole my car again!”

  “What?” I gasp.

  “I’m at the motel where we were staying. I came back here to settle the bill before dropping Paisley off at school this afternoon. Turns out, the manager kicked Mickey out of the room because he didn’t think Mickey would pay. So, I go to the manager’s office, to find out what he did with our stuff, and when I come back out with Paisley, my car’s gone!”

  I feel ill, but do my best to conceal it. “Are you sure Mickey did it?”

  “I mean, I didn’t see him do it, but he’s the only one who has a key besides me.” Her voice rises a notch. “He must be out of jail!”

  “Shit!”

  “Yeah, shit is right,” she agrees. “So I’m sitting here with Paisley now, with no transportation. And I can’t get hold of Yoda. Look, Laney, I hate to ask this, but could you come pick me up? I figure since I was supposed to come by the hospital anyway to talk to you, maybe it wouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience? I can figure out a ride from the hospital afterwards.”

  “Sure, I’ll come get you,” I murmur, the words coming out strangled.

  “Are you sure?” Bethany asks, misunderstanding my tone. “I mean, if you can’t come get us, it’s okay, I can figure something out.”

  “No, no. I’ll be there soon. Sit tight.”

  I sit back in my desk chair, feeling numb and horrified. Stunned, I log out of my computer and pack up my few personal items, a heavy lump in the pit of my stomach. When I’m finished, I pick up the box of my belongings and pull my office door closed.

  Then I walk down the hall, my mind desperately trying to figure out how I’m going to break the news to Bethany. The news I’ve only just realized myself.

  Now that I’m no longer an employee of Morningside Hospital, I don’t have access to the resources to help her.

  26

  Laney

  I’m feeling sick to my stomach when I pull up in fr
ont of the motel. Bethany and Paisley are sitting on the curb in the parking lot, in front of a wooden staircase that leads up to the second floor. Next to Paisley is a tiny battered pink rolling suitcase. On Bethany’s other side are two large garbage bags, stuffed full.

  I say hello to the two of them and pop the trunk. I help them load their stuff in the back, hoping they don’t ask about the paper ream box of my stuff that’s back there already. Thankfully, they don’t seem to notice it.

  As I turn the car out of the parking lot, Bethany frowns. “Aren’t we going to the hospital?”

  “Um… I thought we’d be more comfortable talking at my house,” I stammer, stalling for time. “Plus, it’s almost lunch time. Do you want to come over for grilled cheese or something? I could take you and Paisley over to the school after that.”

  “Yeah!” Paisley yells from behind us, clearly enthused about the grilled cheese part.

  I laugh. “Well, that’s a yes from the back seat. You good with that?”

  “Sure,” Bethany agrees with a smile. “It’ll be fun to see where you live.”

  I find myself driving slower than usual. Probably because subconsciously, I’m trying to prolong the inevitable. I’ll tell Bethany after lunch. Or maybe after we’ve dropped off Paisley.

  Bethany launches into an animated account of getting back their things from the motel manager as I drive. “So first, he says he threw all our stuff in the Dumpster. Then, while I was trying to get him to tell me how many days I owed him for, he lets it slip that he was planning to sell some of our stuff to make up the money I owed. So of course, I say, ‘Wait a minute, so you mean to tell me you’ve got my stuff after all? I am not paying you one penny until you bring it out here and I see that every single thing is there!’ So then, he realized he’d better give me my sh… stuff. Cause it sure as heck isn’t worth hundreds of dollars, no matter where he tries to sell it!”