by Freya Barker
“What’s goin’ on?”
I get to my feet as they head straight for their bikes.
“Trouble at the Backyard.”
I’m right behind them when they hit the bottom of the drive and the first chance I get I pull ahead.
I haven’t been back to the restaurant in two weeks. Not since talking to Ouray that night at the clubhouse. I was going to, but Wapi’s bike was missing and I figured he was probably over there. Whatever he and I have to sort out, I didn’t want to do that at her place of work.
Ah, who the hell am I kidding? I chickened out. There’s no denying I want the woman, but she deserves more than a quick fuck, and I don’t know whether I have more in me to give. What if I try and mess up? I don’t want to hurt her, and not just because I’ll have to face the wrath of my brothers. This is a woman who is already woven into the fabric of our club.
But none of that matters as I weave my way through traffic, driving way too fast to get to the restaurant. To her.
Trouble at the Backyard.
Fuck. I’ll never forgive myself if something happened to her.
I see three cop cars, a fire truck, and an ambulance in the parking lot. Along with Sophia’s Jeep. I pull up as close to the back door as I can get and hop off my bike, just as EMTs wheel out a gurney.
“What the fuck happened?” I bark at the fresh-faced uniform trying to stop me.
I vaguely register the sound of motorcycles behind me, but I only have one focus.
“This is a crime scene, sir.”
The young kid puts a hand on my chest to hold me back, but I easily brush it aside and catch up with the EMTs as they start loading the gurney into the back of their rig. It’s some guy I don’t know, not Sophia. I immediately turn and head for the back door when Ramirez steps out. He’s a detective with the Durango PD and a decent guy.
“They’re fine,” Ramirez calls out to the uniformed kid, who is now trying to hold back Ouray and Wapi. “She’s in her office,” he tells me, as he steps to the side so I can get in.
She’s alone, sitting at her desk, her head resting on her arms. In two steps I’m around to her side and crouch down, putting a hand on her back.
“Hey, Fee.”
Her head snaps up and she turns my way. Then she twists in her seat and throws herself in my arms. I hear rustling at the door and just catch Ouray pushing Wapi out of the office, pulling the door shut. The kid didn’t look too happy.
“Seriously,” she mumbles into my neck before pushing herself upright. Her face is pale and her eyes large, but there are no tears. “I’m cursed. You guys are gonna regret you gave me this job. Every time I show up, shit seems to hit the fan.”
“What happened?” I ask. I reluctantly get to my feet and sit down on the edge of her desk.
Her body does a head-to-toe shiver and I reach out and place a steadying hand on the side of her neck.
“I have no fucking clue. I came in and found Bernie bleeding on the kitchen floor. Someone hit him over the head.”
The next few minutes she fills me in on what she found when she walked in.
“Anything taken?”
She shakes her head.
“No. They didn’t even come into the office. It was still locked when I got here.”
The door eases open and Ouray peeks inside. Seeing Sophia is not having a meltdown, he steps inside.
“You okay?”
“I’m so sorry.”
Ouray snorts. “Hardly your fault, darlin’. I was gonna suggest we call Chris and put a notice on the door.”
“But we have a bunch of reservations for tonight.”
“We’ll call them. Comp them with free drinks for the inconvenience when they’re next in. It’ll take some time before the cops are done here and then we’ll need time to clean up the mess.”
She seems to ponder that and finally nods, moving her chair back. I get to my feet and out of her way as she rounds the desk, pulling open a file drawer.
“Okay, I’ll make the calls but then I need to get to the hospital. Detective Ramirez said he would get in touch with Bernie’s next of kin, but I think someone should be there.”
“I sent Wapi after the ambulance,” Ouray informs her.
I can see from the stubborn set of her chin; she’ll still be heading to Mercy first chance she gets. That’s fine, I’ll be right behind her.
Forty minutes later all staff is contacted, reservations cancelled, and Sophia is heading for her vehicle.
“She’s not going home, is she?” Ouray observes beside me as we stand by the bikes, watching her get in the Jeep.
“Nope. I’m gonna stick with her until we have some idea what the hell happened.”
“Figured you would,” he says with a shake of his head. “Tell Wapi to head back here. And for fuck’s sake, try to use some tact. Last thing I need is you two getting into it in the middle of the hospital.”
“I’ll be gentle,” I mock, as I swing a leg over the seat and start my bike.
He snorts. “Yeah, right. And, Tse?”
“Yeah?”
“Make sure you see her home safely.”
I mock salute him.
Then I follow Sophia off the parking lot.
CHAPTER 4
Sophia
I GLANCE IN my rearview mirror and clench my jaw.
He’s still stuck to my bumper. Has been since I pulled away from the Backyard. I should’ve guessed as much.
These men, they don’t ask if you need or want help, they simply take over. All of them: Brick, Ouray, Tse, and even Wapi, although he’s less annoyingly in-your-face about it. They assume the role of protector; never mind I’ve looked after myself for the past fifteen-or-so years.
By the time I pull in a parking slot at the hospital, I have myself worked up into a nice head of steam. I pointedly ignore Tse parking two spots down from me and march right by, my eyes fixed on the door.
“I’m looking for Bernie Wilson?” I ask the woman manning the information desk. “He was brought in by ambulance maybe an hour or so ago?”
I try not to notice the looming presence of Tse closing in behind me as she scans her computer screen.
“I don’t have him listed here yet, but he’s probably still in the emergency department. Just follow the signs and check in with the desk.”
“Thank you.”
Behind me I hear her ask, “Can I help you?”
“I’m with her.”
The rumble of Tse’s voice has me clench my hands in fists, but I keep my tongue until I’m directed down a quiet hallway. There I swing around on him. I have to tilt my head back to look at him since he’s much closer than I expected. Somehow that takes a little of the wind out of my sails.
“Why are you following me?”
“Don’t think you should be alone.”
“That’s not your call to make,” I snap. “Maybe I want to be alone. Maybe I need to be alone, have you thought of that? No. You haven’t, because you assume you know better. I’m so sick of—”
I’m shocked silent when he suddenly grabs my upper arms and swings me around so my back is against the wall. I’m about to lay into him for manhandling me when an older gentleman with a walker slowly passes by, grinning as he winks at Tse. I press my lips together but a soft growl escapes, which Tse apparently finds amusing.
“Right,” he says, giving me a little shake, “before you give yourself an aneurism, have you stopped to consider that whoever knocked out the cook might not have been there for him? We don’t know that. We don’t know anything yet and until we do, I’m sticking close.”
All my indignant anger evaporates on the spot and I hate that he makes a good point.
“Sous-chef,” I mumble stupidly.
“Sorry?”
“Bernie is a sous-chef, not a cook.”
Tse drops his head back and looks up at the ceiling, as if asking for divine intervention.
“Did you hear anything else I said?” Exasperation is clear
in his voice.
“I did,” I grudgingly admit, and his eyes come back to mine.
“Hell, Fee, it wasn’t that long ago I had to carry you bleeding into the clubhouse.”
“Don’t remind me.”
He hooks a finger under my chin and lifts my face to his.
“Then don’t give me a hard time for wanting to avoid another scenario like that…please.”
His plea is genuine and I find myself a little embarrassed. I’m throwing around attitude because I feel controlled and undermined, when in effect these guys—this guy in particular—is trying to keep me safe. Getting shot was probably the most terrifying experience of my life, but I clearly remember Tse scooping me up off the ground and running through gunfire to get me to safety. He even got winged by a bullet himself, but that didn’t stop him from getting me safely inside.
“Okay,” I promise contritely.
But a few minutes later, when we’re directed into the waiting room where we find Wapi, my resolve is quickly forgotten.
He shoots up from his seat and reaches for me, lifting a hand to my face.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Have you heard anything?”
“Not yet, I’m still—”
“You need to go,” Tse interrupts the younger man, who drops his hand like he got burned.
“Tse!” I snap. “You’re being an ass.”
“What? Ouray wants him back at the restaurant,” he says defensively.
“Oh, I give up.” I throw up my hands. “I’m sick and tired of this, you know? You’re putting me in the middle of something I didn’t ask for. I’m going to see if I can get some information, and you two…” I point a finger at each of them, “…can sort this shit out without me.”
Then I stalk out of the room and go in search of someone who looks like they belong.
A woman in surgical scrubs hands a file over to the nurse behind the desk and I zoom in on her.
“Excuse me? Could you tell me anything about Bernie Wilson? He was brought in—”
“Are you family?” she interrupts.
“No, but I’m his boss and I’m the one who found him. Police are still trying to locate any next of kin, but for now I’m all he has. Please?”
She gives me a long hard stare before her face softens.
“Very well. As you likely will have noticed, he had a large laceration to the back of his head. That was easy enough to fix. More serious is the skull fracture underneath, which is considered a significant head injury. He was able to answer a few basic questions when he first came in, but has been in and out of consciousness since. For now we wait and see; our first concern is possible swelling of the brain. Should that happen, we may need to relieve the pressure.”
“You mean surgery,” I conclude.
“Yes. That’s a possibility, but as I mentioned, we’ll monitor him closely.”
I hold out my hand.
“I appreciate it, Doctor…”
“Morozova. And your name is?”
“Sophia Vieira.”
“Okay, I’ll have you added to his file as contact for now.”
“Thank you.”
I’m halfway back to the waiting room when I bump into Detective Ramirez.
Tse
The moment Sophia leaves the room I turn to Wapi, but he speaks first.
“I care about her.”
I have to give it to him; he gets straight to the point.
“I know.”
“She sees me like a brother.”
I didn’t know that, so I keep my mouth shut and wait him out.
“Do you know how I know?” I’m not sure he’s expecting an answer and simply shrug. “I don’t get her fired up. Oh, she tolerates me, maybe even likes me, but I can’t get under her skin. Not like you do. It fucking sucks.”
His observation startles me. I never looked at it that way, but now that I think about it, almost every couple I know gets up in each other’s face from time to time. Didn’t exactly have any good examples, growing up in homes and foster care. When I was older, I was only interested in getting laid and paid little attention to any subtle signs or signals. I looked for blatant come-ons, easily recognized and leaving little to the imagination.
Turns out, my brother has more sense than I had at that age.
“Sorry, kid.”
His eyes flash anger at my use of that tag—something I do without thinking—but then he shakes his head.
“Not gonna shut her out, though.”
I suppress the smile that wants to surface at his defiant tone.
“I’m not asking you to.”
I would’ve insisted he keep his distance from her if he hadn’t just shown himself the bigger man.
“And if you hurt her, you’re gonna have to answer to me.”
Fuck, fifteen years younger, but definitely the bigger man.
“Expecting nothing else.”
He narrows his eyes on me for a moment, before he turns away and heads for the door.
“Later.”
“Later, brother,” I call after him.
Not long after he leaves, Sophia walks in with Ramirez in tow.
“Any news?”
Sophia sits two seats down from me and Ramirez fills us in on Bernie’s condition.
“Did you talk to any family?” she asks Ramirez.
“Finally got hold of a sister. She’s on her way, driving in from Shiprock. She shouldn’t be too much longer.”
I lean forward with my elbows on my knees.
“Do you have an idea what happened?”
“Beats me. Until we can talk to Mr. Wilson, your guess is as good as mine. It wasn’t theft, nothing looks to be taken, or even attempted. The only place that shows any disturbance is the kitchen. Whoever did that must’ve just walked in, or maybe Wilson let them in himself. Crime scene techs are going over the place with a fine-tooth comb, but I have a sneaky suspicion they won’t find much.”
“What about Clover Produce?” Sophia suggests. “Could their driver have seen something? Those boxes must’ve just been dropped off. “
Ramirez grins at her. “That’s my next stop. I’m heading to Farmington to meet up with local law enforcement. I should probably get going. Dropped in hoping maybe I could ask our victim a few questions, but it doesn’t look like that’ll happen today.” He walks to the door and turns back. “If you think of anything else, let me know?”
Sophia nods and then suddenly freezes.
“Wait. This is probably nothing, but a few times over the past couple of weeks I’ve seen people hanging out at the edge of the parking lot when I locked up. Not seen them so I couldn’t identify them, nothing but shadows, really, but I noticed them three, maybe four times.”
I sit up straighter and so does Ramirez.
“How many?”
“Hard to tell, they were right by the trees. Two, could’ve been three.”
“Same people every time?”
“I wouldn’t be able to tell you. Like I said, it was dark, and it may not mean anything.”
“Anyone else mentioned seeing people back there?”
Sophia shakes her head.
“Nobody’s mentioned anything and I haven’t asked. Should I?”
“No.” Ramirez is firm. “I’ll take care of that. You call me if you remember anything else.”
“I will.”
“Good.” His eyes slide to me. “Be careful. I’ll be in touch.”
The moment he’s gone, I get up and move over to a seat next to her.
“Did you chase Wapi off?”
Straight for the attack. It won’t be hard to figure out when I piss her off, she doesn’t seem to hold back on her anger. Just on everything else.
“No. We cleared the air.” She snorts derisively. “I’m serious,” I insist. “Actually, he did most of the talking and I listened, but we each know where the other stands.”
She turns her face my way.
“And where would that
be?”
I lean toward her and note she doesn’t back away.
“Can’t speak for Wapi, that’s not mine to share.” I drop my voice low. “But I’d be happy to tell you where my mind is at.”
She sucks in a sharp little breath.
“Forget I asked. I’m no longer sure I wanna know.”
“Coward,” I whisper.
She shoots to her feet.
“I need some coffee,” she mutters. “Or a stiff drink.”
“You sit. I’ll go. Not sure they serve hard liquor, but I’m sure I can rustle you up a coffee.”
“Some cream and—”
“Two sugars,” I finish for her. “You like it sweet. I know.”
The cafeteria is not hard to find. I doctor us up a couple of coffees and take them to the checkout, bypassing the food they have on display. It’s probably been there all day and if she gets hungry, I’ll just get one of the guys to drop something off.
When I’ve paid and make my way back down the hall, my phone rings in my pocket. Juggling the two cups in one hand I use the other to fish it out of my pocket.
“Talk to me.”
“How are things?” Ouray says without introduction. Not that he needs one.
I tell him what I know, which isn’t a whole lot.
“You gonna stick around?”
“His sister is on the way; I imagine Sophia will at least want to wait for her. I’ll see her home.”
“Good. I talked to Benedetti. He’ll keep an eye out.”
Benedetti is Police Chief Joe Benedetti, who happens to live right across from where Sophia has been staying. The house she stays at actually used to belong to Benedetti’s wife and since she had some trouble a few years back, it is outfitted with good security.
“Sounds good.”
“Okay. See you later.”
I tuck my phone back in my pocket and resume walking.
Truthfully, I’d feel better keeping an eye on her myself, but something tells me I won’t get very far. Not yet, I’m not going to force the issue after the day she’s had, but soon.
When I enter the waiting room, Sophia is talking to a platinum blonde woman dressed head to toe in black leather. Biker babe is the first thing that comes to mind.
“Tse, this is Liz, she’s Bernie’s sister. Liz, this is Tse.”
The blonde turns around and unapologetically checks me out top to bottom.