Renegade (Southern Rebels MC Book 4)

by Kristin Coley

“The criminal conviction,” I answered. “She’s a federal judge.”

  “Oh.” He sent me a glance. “So what’s she think of you driving me around?”

  I shuddered and shot him a quick glance. “Let’s not find out, okay?” I nodded to myself as his eyebrows rose. “Let’s never find out,” I muttered again as he shifted in the seat. “Do I need to pick up your biker buddies?” I asked, desperate to change the subject away from my mother.

  “Biker buddies?” He repeated the words as if they were foreign to him.

  “Uncle Tom seems to think you’re in a motorcycle club,” I explained. “We thought you may have been separated from them. I can pick them up.”

  His mouth opened, then closed before he finally shook his head. “No. There’s no one. I’m on my own.”

  “Not anymore,” I said staunchly.

  He eyed me. “What’s the deal? You sewed me up. That’s all you had to do. Why all this?” He gestured to the car as I raised my chin.

  “You needed help.”

  “Yeah, we established that, Doc. You helped me when you stopped the bleeding and stitched up the hole. This goes beyond that.”

  I pasted a false smile on my face. “Who doesn’t love a good road trip?” I glanced over at him blindly, my fingers clenched around the steering wheel, but he wasn’t buying what I was selling.

  “See, the thing is, if we’re gonna ride together I need to know I can trust you. Same as my brothers. And right now, I wouldn’t accept a swallow of water from you if I was dying of thirst.” I flinched at the barely repressed anger in his voice. “So, why don’t you try the truth?”

  “You don’t recognize me,” I stated it as a fact, but he shook his head anyway.

  “Honestly, Doc, this is the first time I’ve had chance to see your face.” He shrugged. “Besides last night and I wasn’t exactly checking you out then.”

  I looked over at him, giving him the chance to study me, the moment stretching into something more before I jerked my gaze back to the road. “I tend to wear a mask at work even when I don’t need to,” I admitted, my tongue unconsciously tracing the scar on my lip.

  “Why? You’re beautiful.” He gave an unamused snort. “Not that you need me to tell you that.”

  “You think I’m beautiful?” I questioned, glancing at him again. My finger rose to touch the scar, almost self-consciously and he took my hand before I could reach it. My arm jerked in surprise but he didn’t let go.

  “Yeah, Doc. I do.” He shook his head, glancing away from me, but he continued to hold my hand. “Scars prove you survived.”

  “I’m used to that being the only thing people see.”

  “Maybe you don’t give them a chance to see anything else,” he observed and I frowned. I wiggled my fingers, expecting him to release me, but he just tightened his fingers around mine. “I think I like holding your hand.”

  “Maybe I don’t like you holding my hand,” I retorted waspishly and he just chuckled.

  “I don’t like being kidnapped and drugged so we’re even.” I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he licked his lower lip, his head rolling against the headrest until he was staring straight at me. I kept my eyes glued to the road unable to face the heat of that stare. “Why don’t you tell me why I would recognize you?”

  “You don’t,” I said quickly. “It doesn’t matter.”

  He weaved his fingers through mine, locking our hands together and I tugged lightly, testing his resolve. He didn’t budge and I gave an exasperated sigh. “I really need two hands to drive,” I admonished and he smiled lazily.

  “Tell me and you can have your hand back.”

  I pressed my lips together until they hurt, glaring at the empty road, but there was nothing to distract me. “My dad died when I was thirteen.”

  “Mine too,” he replied and I spared a quick glance at him. He rolled his shoulders. “Who knew we had something in common?”

  I nodded sharply, inhaling. “He died saving my life. It’s how I got the scar. That day.”

  “That’s shitty,” he muttered, squeezing my hand and involuntarily I smiled.

  “It is. It really is shitty,” I agreed, feeling lighter with the admission. “The whole thing was caught on film. It was a big news story. That’s why I thought you might recognize me. It seems like my entire life has been defined by that one day.”

  “I can’t imagine. Losing your Dad and then having to see it on television. It had to be like losing him over and over again.”

  “My mom made sure I didn’t see it on the nightly news, but there’s always the internet,” I said bitterly.

  “I don’t,” he paused, and I swore I could feel the weight of his gaze. “Wait…you’re the –”

  “Senator’s daughter,” I finished, nodding tightly. “Now, you can see why I wore a mask.”

  “I was a kid myself, but I remember seeing the story. It wasn’t long after my own dad died. I remember being angry. I couldn’t understand why they kept showing it.”

  “It made a good story.” My jaw ached from clenching my teeth. “Little girl saved by her hero dad.” I shook my head. “They seemed to forget that a little girl had just lost her dad.” He squeezed my hand again, then went to release it, but this time I tightened my fingers, not letting him go. “I couldn’t let you die. I was just a little girl then, but now it’s different.”

  “It’s personal for you,” he stated, our fingers still firmly woven together.

  “That day changed my entire family. My brothers decided to spend their lives putting the bad guys behind bars. My mother made it her mission to make sure nothing ever happened to us. And I….I just wanted to save the good guys.”

  “You saved my life. Twice.” His lips quirked. “Thanks for that by the way.”

  “My pleasure,” I responded, my cheeks heating. “Clearly, you need a full time doctor at your side.” This startled a laugh out of him.

  “I think my number was up when I met you,” he said teasingly, his thumb rubbing the back of my hand. “We’ve been defying fate ever since.”

  “I’ve been called stubborn,” I acknowledged.

  “I would never have guessed,” he deadpanned and I curled my fingernails into his hand. “Ouch. Remember, I’m injured over here.”

  “I see you use that when it’s convenient for you.”

  “Says the woman who drugs me whenever it’s convenient for her.”

  “I had good reason,” I protested, flipping on the blinker when I saw a gas station. “We need gas and I need a bathroom,” I explained, pulling up to a gas pump. “Want anything?”

  “A shirt that fits?” He prodded a button that looked like it was about to pop off any second. He opened the car door. “I’ll get the gas.”

  I hesitated and he glanced at me. “You’re not – you’re not going to,” he raised his eyebrows, waiting patiently, “You’re not going to run off,” I finally stammered and he closed his eyes briefly. “I promise not to drug you again,” I offered and a smile flited across his face.

  “You may have hijacked my rescue mission,” he conceded. “But I’m not going to leave you.” He squeezed my fingers before untangling our hands. “I admire the guts it took for you to help me. I haven’t decided if you’re brave or clinically insane. Either way it’s probably a good idea to keep you close.” He winked, leaving me staring after him open mouthed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Clutch

  I watched her walk away, a natural sway to her hips and my fingers curled into a fist. When she glanced back over her shoulder, I lowered my eyes, hiding the direction of my gaze. She disappeared inside and I lifted the nozzle on the gas pump, setting the trigger to pump automatically as I fished my phone out of my pocket.

  “Jesus, where have you been?” He growled, not bothering with hello. “We’ve been worried sick. Last we heard you had caught up to Rob.”

  “Hello to you too, Creed.”

  “Damn it, Clutch,” he grumbled. “Are you a
lright?”

  “Yeah,” I muttered, wincing as I rubbed my shoulder. “There was just a little…” I smiled to myself. "Hiccup.”

  “I don’t know what that even means. Did you get Kara?”

  My smile disappeared. “No,” I answered shortly. “He got away with her.”

  “Shit.” Creed exhaled. “But you’re okay?”

  “Yeah, I am.” I realized as I said it, that it was true. Doc abducting me should have pissed me off, because she was going to delay me, but waking up to her singing along with the radio had sent relief through me instead. Her presence complicated things, but the memory of her hand cradled in mine almost made my concern disappear. “I’m back on his trail,” I continued, glancing toward the gas station, but I didn’t see Doc.

  “Where are you?”

  I had no idea. “Getting gas,” I hedged, dodging the actual question. “I need to get back on the road.”

  “A’right, but call? Okay? You got a bunch of people worried about you.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I mumbled, knowing I should have checked in sooner. “I promise.”

  “Clutch,” Doc called, walking toward me with a shirt in one hand and a huge foam cup in the other. “I wasn’t sure what size.”

  “Who is that?”

  I cursed under my breath, unsurprised Creed’s eagle hearing had heard her.

  “Is that….is that a woman?” Disbelief quickly turned to irritation, as Creed’s voice cracked with anger. “Are you with a woman?”

  “It’s not what you think,” I interjected, twisting away from Doc.

  “Red? Did you hook up with the Ginger chick?”

  “No, no. Look, I gotta go.” I lifted the gas pump handle. “I’ll explain later.”

  “Clutch,” Creed shouted as I lowered the phone, slipping it into my pocket as Doc reached me. I nodded at the Big Gulp in her hand.

  “I see a lot of bathroom breaks in my future.” She looked at the drink like that had never occurred to her, hopefully distracting her from the fact that I had been on the phone when she walked up. I hung the handle back on the pump. “You got me a shirt?” I questioned, reaching for the t-shirt in her hand. She handed it over with a nod.

  “I hope it’s big enough. They didn’t exactly have button downs so getting it on might be a problem.” I started undoing buttons as she talked, her voice fading the lower I went.

  “It’ll be fine,” I grunted as I tried to twist out of the shirt. It caught on my biceps, effectively trapping me. Her lips pressed together, no doubt to hide her laughter, but her eyes gave her away. “A little help?”

  She grabbed my sleeve, tugging lightly, and then harder when it didn’t move. “Geez,” she muttered as the tight material finally gave, freeing me from its constraints. “Did you grow while you were sleeping?”

  “I’m wondering how you got it on me,” I muttered, tugging the other sleeve now that my arm was free.

  “Uncle Tom helped,” she admitted, taking the shirt once I had it off. “I didn’t exactly have a large selection to choose from.”

  “Your boyfriend doesn’t leave clothes at your house?” I questioned, curious about any potential competition. I lowered my voice confidingly. “Or is he a little guy?”

  She didn’t bother to hide it as she rolled her eyes. “I don’t have a boyfriend or any…beneficial friends,” she claimed, making air quotes when she said, “beneficial,” and I shook my head at her choice of words. “I had a fiancé.”

  I paused in the middle of looping the t-shirt over my head, startled by her admission. “You were engaged?” I couldn’t hide the shock in my voice and her mouth twisted. “I mean, who would leave you?”

  “Nice attempt at a save,” she commented as I struggled to slip my good arm in the shirt. “What makes you think he left me?”

  “I can’t see you walking away from a fight,” I admitted, trying to ease my injured arm into the hole. “You don’t seem like the type to give up.”

  “You might be right. Here –” She grasped my wrist under the shirt, helping me position it so I could slide it through the short sleeve. “Rotate.” I bit back a hiss of pain as I stretched the stiches in my shoulder, but finally my arm went through the sleeve. “We might have to cut it off,” she mentioned and I didn’t argue. Her fingers drifted over the bandage, lightly touching the gauze. “Doesn’t feel like you opened it. At least there’s no bleeding.”

  Her hand was still under my shirt when I asked, “Why would he leave you?” I was genuinely curious because there was no way in hell I’d let her go. She stared at me. Gauging my sincerity, I thought, and must have decided I meant it.

  “I was bad for his image,” she finally said, her palm resting over my heart, her fingers cool against my chest. “I was fired and he couldn’t stand the bad PR.” Her mouth tightened. “Apparently, I was no longer the good kind of status symbol to have.”

  “What the fuck?” I snarled, immediately pissed at the thought of this guy using Doc. “Tell me you fucked him up?” I curled my hand around her elbow, trapping her hand under my shirt as I lowered my head until our foreheads bumped. “Please, Doc. Tell me you gave him something that would prevent him from getting it up, maybe a never-ending case of the runs. I know you could think of something.” She smiled faintly, giving me a cross eyed look as she looked up into my eyes.

  “None of the above, but bonus points for creativity,” she answered, her fingers curling into the hair on my chest. I inhaled, my chest expanding, and her fingernails lightly scratched my skin. “Next time,” she caught her breath, “I need revenge, I’ll call you for ideas.”

  “I’m sure anything you come up with would be better,” I declared as her hand drifted down, following my chest hair as it tapered to my waist. “Tell me you did something or we’re going to have to take a detour to beat the crap out of this guy.”

  “And risk my sutures?” She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  I stroked the inside of her wrist as she pulled her hand out from under my shirt. “I kept the ring.” I captured her hand, my thumb pressing gently into her palm. “It was a family heirloom. Priceless to his family. An antique.”

  “Nice. What did you do to it?”

  “What makes you think I did anything to it? It’s a priceless antique,” she exclaimed and I lifted one shoulder.

  “A hunch.”

  She pursed her lips before smiling. “I melted it down and sold the diamonds and the gold for scrap. It was enough to buy my house.” A laugh rumbled through me, shaking us both. “They tried to sue me, but two lawyers in the family and a federal judge was enough to persuade them it would be a bad idea.”

  “I know you said I wouldn’t meet you mom but I think I like your family,” I admitted, noticing certain similarities between her family’s version of justice and my own. “They protect you well.”

  “Too well,” she sighed, pulling away and I couldn’t help myself. I leaned down, chasing that sweet mouth until our lips met, plump perfection yielding to my hardness, our mouths lingering in the too brief moment.

  I lifted my head, noting her dazed surprise. “I’m going to do that again,” I warned her and she nodded, almost dutifully, as my head dipped again, capturing her lush mouth against mine. I settled her between my legs, positioning her back against the car as I thoroughly learned every inch of her mouth. My teeth scraped her lower lip, and I tugged it between my lips, sucking lightly, until a car horn pierced the air.

  I slowly pulled away, placing a delicate kiss against the corner of her mouth, before flipping off the guy blowing his horn at us. When I straightened fully, turning to face the asshat in the car, he abruptly stopped honking and hastily backed his car up.

  “Asshole,” I muttered, staring after him as he went around the gas station. I glanced back at Doc, her lips shiny, the skin around her mouth rosy from my beard, and she gave me a dreamy grin. I groaned, my hands itching to learn her curves the way our mouths had learned each other. “We need to go,” I ground ou
t, striving for my normally unshakeable control. “I’ve taken too long as it is.” The desire on her face vanished at the snap in my words. She moved from the car, skirting around me. I held out a hand, stopping her. “I’ll drive,” I said and she arched an eyebrow at me.

  “No.”

  She then wiggled around me, appearing on the other side of the car, faster than I would have thought possible. “No?” I repeated, staring at her.

  “No,” she reiterated, slipping into the car and starting it. I hurriedly opened my door and slide in before she drove off without me. She spared me a cool glance before reaching for a pair of sunglasses. “No one drives my car but me.” She shifted the car into drive, hitting the gas hard enough to make me scramble for my seatbelt. “Unless you’re willing to let me drive your bicycle?”

  “Motorcycle,” I corrected automatically under my breath, knowing she’d said it intentionally. “No,” I said louder, then amended my answer. “Not until I’ve taught you how to ride it.”

  She slowed the car’s speed to my relief, her head tilted toward me slightly. “You’d teach me?” She questioned, sounding disbelieving.

  “Yes,” I replied, meaning it. I allowed a small smile to curve my lips. “I have to teach my four year old nephew so it would be easy enough to teach you at the same time.” I felt her glare through the sunglasses she wore and turned in time to miss her finger jabbing into my injured shoulder. “You’re vicious,” I exclaimed and she chuckled darkly.

  “You have no idea.”

  “I don’t know about that,” I muttered, huddling against the car door. “You’ve shown me a few times.” She placed both hands on the steering wheel and I relaxed slightly. “Where are we going? Actually, where are we? I lost Rob after he shot me, but I have a few ideas where he might be.”

  Her teeth snapped together and I tensed, expecting her to poke me, but she just shook her head. “Irwinville,” she finally said. “He has a grandmother who lives there.”

  “What?” I exclaimed, having no idea what she was talking about. “I’ve never heard of any grandmother.”