Doc T (Macha MC Book 1)

by Skye McNeil

  “We got it, lass,” Reaper’s voice gently said, coming up from her left. He closed his hand over the gun and slowly took it away from her. “Phantom got Niall and Orla too. They’re safe.”

  Isa staggered on her feet, watching Rubble and Hawk tackle Viper to the pavement, both getting punches in. She couldn’t utter a word, the severity of the recent moments hitting her hard.

  Doc grunted and rolled to his side.

  “Oh God.” Running over, she tore off a strip of her tank and pressed it to his side. The wound wasn’t gushing, but his once white shirt held a pink tint. “You’re some kind of dolt,” she muttered, pulling up the hem to examine the wound. She had no idea what she was doing, but she’d seen people do it on the telly. Can’t hurt anything.

  Doc winced, and it was then she noticed the scrapes on his face and arms. How had she missed those before? She roughly examined his side, her head suddenly spinning.

  “I’m fine, princess,” he said, grabbing her hand and pressing it to his heart. “It’s a through and through.”

  She slowly lifted her eyes to meet his. Sure enough, his gorgeous blue eyes didn’t look worried one bit. Tears threatened to spill, but she held them back. “You’re sure?”

  He leaned his forehead to hers. “No, but I hope it is.”

  The tears fell steadily, blurring her vision. She was safe. Doc was safe. It was all she cared about.

  Isa pulled back long enough to search his face before kissing him hard. Tears mixed with blood met her tongue, and she held him closer. She couldn’t get the recent events out of her mind. One wrong move and they all could’ve died.

  Doc eased back and grunted in pain. “Sorry, princess, I gotta wait to finish this until after the doctor patches me up.”

  Isa looked down in horror. She’d mistakenly agitated his wound. Standing, she watched Brewer and Hawk help him upright.

  “Come on, Doc,” Hawk said, walking toward the ambulance that had recently arrived on the scene. Paramedics filed out of the vehicle, and she wiped her face of the blood, sweat, and tears.

  It’s over. Everything’s going to be fine.

  She swallowed at the underlying realization. Her Macha protection detail would end.

  Doc’s face creased when the paramedic pulled away the haphazard wound dressing. The Emerald Isle awaited her return. Her friends awaited her.

  She watched Doc joke despite his injury. He was perfect. Can I leave this all behind?

  Her answer scared her more than when The Twelve Brothers kidnapped her. She was safe, but her heart wasn’t.

  38

  Doc

  “I’ll be fine. Just give me a minute,” Doc growled and pushed off the end of the ambulance. The bullet hadn’t gone straight through like he’d hoped. Damn, Viper. If he had his way, he’d patch himself up once he was home. A sudden rush of adrenaline left his mind foggy, and he cursed the bullet wound in his side. Maybe not the best idea. He should’ve let the paramedics force him in the back of the ambulance. Hell, they’d be halfway to the hospital by now, but he couldn’t leave yet. Not until he knew she was all right.

  Isa stood on the other end of the parking lot, looking lost yet found at the same time. She chewed on the thumbnail of her left hand, eyes scouring the area. Macha bikers surrounded the convenience store alongside uniformed officers getting their official statements. Evidently, the horde of protectors didn’t put her at ease.

  He bit his tongue when his footsteps sent new fibers of agony up his legs and into his side. He gritted his teeth and kept moving toward her. She’s worth the pain of the bullet and more.

  Reaching her, he gently laid a hand on her arm. “Isa.”

  She turned slowly, and the tears in her eyes sent his heart into a nosedive. For a moment, they merely stared at each other. He wouldn’t close the distance. After all she’d been through over the last twenty-four hours, he wasn’t sure how she’d react.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” she finally said.

  “Why?” He glanced around and shook his head at Kevlar before he got closer. They didn’t need more of an audience than they already had. Walking in front of her, he tipped up her chin.

  The tears she’d desperately been trying to hold back trickled down her face. “You need to go to hospital. You’re shot.” She pointed to the dark crimson on his side.

  “Just a flesh wound,” he joked, but the irony fell short. “All right, I’ll go to the hospital.”

  “You will?”

  He chuckled at the befuddled look on her face. “Baby, I can patch myself up really well, but even I will pass the fuck out if I try to dig this bullet from my side.”

  A small smirk crossed her cheeks, and his heart lightened. “You’re an eejit.”

  “Probably, but I don’t care.” He carefully pulled her into his embrace, pain be damned. His girl needed him, and he wouldn’t let her down. Not again. Not ever.

  Doc nestled his face in the nape of her neck, remnants of lavender and vanilla seeping from her skin. She smelled so damned good despite recent events.

  “I was terrified I’d never see you again.” She laced her fingers behind his neck, burying her face in his shirt.

  “You’re safe, baby.” He looked up in time to see the coroner’s van drive away, bodies safely stowed for the drive to the morgue. He’d gladly spit on their graves, but he wouldn’t grace the deceased with his presence. They didn’t deserve anything but a shallow grave after terrorizing Isa and his club.

  “Brother, you need to get to the hospital,” Kevlar said gruffly behind him. “You’re bleeding on the concrete.”

  Doc looked down and saw a red trickle all the way to the ground. He hugged Isa once more, doing his best to push down the desire to overwhelm her lips when he felt the slight tremble in her touch. “Hawk can take you back—”

  “No.” She gripped a handful of his shirt. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

  He nodded and swallowed the grin he so badly wanted to give her. There’d be time for that later. Plus, the blood oozing from his side made any other thoughts impossible. His mind was fuzzy the longer he stayed upright.

  Kevlar came up beside him and looped his arm over his shoulder, allowing Doc to use him as a crutch. He was never more grateful to be part of this band of brothers. They had each other’s backs no matter what happened. He hadn’t been sure of the recently returned biker, but the Army sniper held his own during the firefight. He owed him.

  “You better make her your old lady,” Kevlar mumbled under his breath. “Or I’ll make her mine.”

  He eyed the other man and noticed the shit-eating grin on Kevlar’s face. “I like you and all, but fuck off.”

  They both chuckled, and Doc instantly regretted the joking when his side warmed with blood. He glanced over his shoulder and noticed Isa close behind. They needed to figure out some shit, but he’d do exactly as Kevlar suggested.

  Isa isn’t going anywhere but home with me.

  39

  Isa

  Sleep eluded her. Sitting next to Doc lying in the clean hospital bed, her body refused to succumb to rest. If they’d come directly to hospital, he wouldn’t have had to stay overnight. She rolled her eyes. Her man was one stubborn son of a bitch.

  Isa rubbed her lips together, smothering her smile. Her man. My man. He wasn’t like any of the boys of her past, and there wouldn’t be another man like him. Not for her.

  Sitting back in the uncomfortable chair, she watched his chest rise and then fall consistently. His wound would heal—that much the doctor said after they brought Doc back from surgery. She was more worried about what came next. The danger was gone. Then why does it still feel like it’s here? Viper’s warning before the police officers dragged him off rang in her mind. Surely he was merely spewing words.

  She stood and paced in front of the bed. The heart monitor beeped comfortingly. The room was private, a special service from the hospital since Doc volunteered at their free clinics. Hawk was stationed outside the
room, Cueball in the parking lot.

  I should feel safe. Isa chewed her bottom lip. But I don’t. Why?

  But she knew why. Macha had found the flight manifest from the Twelve Brothers. One man was unaccounted for between the morgue and police station.

  Her phone rang a familiar video chat chime. Answering it quickly, she sighed at the sight of Niall and Orla. “Oh God, you’re okay. If I could hug you through the phone, I would. What happened? Who saved you?”

  Niall held up his hand. Both looked weary beyond belief. If Reaper hadn’t told her they were safe, she’d have gone completely mad.

  “We’re fine. A bit of a bump on the head for me, but Orla wasn’t hurt.” Niall tenderly patted the knot on his skull. “Some sleep, meds, and I’ll be right as rain.”

  “Your da came for us,” Orla said.

  Isa focused on her best friend for the last twenty years. Her hair was darker, most likely damp from a recent shower. “I’m so sorry. I never thought in a million years someone would try to hurt you because of me.” She let out a breath to keep from crying. “Once I’m back in Ireland, I’ll sort it all out with the club and Phantom.”

  Orla chuckled and rested her head on Niall’s chest. “Love, he’s your dad. You can call him that, you know.”

  “No. He put you in danger. He doesn’t deserve to be called anything but his club name.”

  “Maybe, but not because he wanted to.” Orla yawned, and Isa cursed herself. It was long past bedtime in Ireland. “Denying your relationship isn’t good for you. Face it head-on. You might be surprised what you find.”

  “We’re not talking about Phantom anymore, are we?”

  “No, but it applies to both.”

  Niall took over the frame. “We’ll sign off for tonight.” She opened her mouth to reply, and he added, “We’re safe at home, Isa. See you soon.”

  She offered him a small smile. “Sleep well.”

  Putting away the phone, she opened the curtain and gazed out to the darkness. The city spread out with lights to the left, though the right was pure wilderness. It was hauntingly beautiful.

  “You’re still here?”

  Whirling around, Isa caught her hand over her mouth to silence her gasp. A prospect stood in the doorway, the light behind him hiding his face. The leather cut stood out, but no name was patched on the front yet.

  “Um, who’re you?” She took a step closer to her slumbering biker, her gut not liking the unexpected intrusion. Hawk told her he’d be at the hospital all night. There wasn’t a planned guard shift for another hour.

  The stocky man cleared his throat. “Hawk told me to relieve him.” He jutted a thumb behind him. “The guy was really tired.”

  She squinted, the prospect’s face still shielded by his overgrown hair and dimly lit room. “No one told me.”

  The man shrugged, and she caught sight of his dark eyes for the first time. “You’re a woman. Why would we?”

  His words immediately sent a shiver down her spine. Macha taught their prospects better. This man is no prospect. She gulped, doing her best to keep her face straight. At least not for Macha.

  “Sure. You wouldn’t mind if I stayed, would you?” She sank into the chair next to the hospital bed.

  “You’ve had a big day. Cueball is outside waiting to take you home.” He turned his face to Doc. “I’ll take care of him.”

  Eerie goose bumps littered her arms. The depravity in those words meant exactly what she thought. Racking her mind, she tried to remember where they put Doc’s firearm. Surely they didn’t take it.

  The man took a step closer, and the gun on his hip glimmered in the light. “I said leave, woman.”

  Isa’s eyes widened, and she stood automatically. Doc’s bloodied clothes caught her attention on the other side of the bed. His personal effects were there, which meant his gun was too. Rubble made it a point to ensure the hospital security allowed Macha’s men to keep their weapons safely hidden and she was damn glad he did. If I can just make it over there and grab it….

  “Now, princess.”

  The sound of Doc’s nickname for her on the scumbag’s lips sent her stomach into a tizzy. On some level, it was ironic. She used to hate the pet name, but now all she wanted was to hear Doc say it once more.

  “I need to gather my things.”

  Standing, she walked around the bed, the man’s eyes glued to her every move. She swallowed her anxiety, the brown bag with Doc’s clothes mere inches away. I can do this. She looked up to see the man studying his phone. Taking her moment, she quickly rifled through the bag, cursing at the loud crinkling.

  “Hey, what’re you doing?” he barked, phone suddenly gone from his hand.

  “Just need to grab one last thing,” she replied, faking a smile. Her fingers felt the cool metal, and she wrapped her hand around the handle.

  “Hurry up. I have a job to do.” He checked over his shoulder.

  Acting fast, she pulled out the gun and flicked off the safety. “Leave or I’ll blow your head off.”

  The longhaired biker scoffed at her. “Right, sure you will, princess.”

  “Don’t call me that,” she fumed, motioning for him toward the door. “Get out!” The gun shook in her hand, but she kept it focused on the intruder. “I’ll pull the trigger.”

  “Please, you don’t even know how to—”

  Isa fired off a shot, and it connected with the man’s arm.

  “Bitch!” He stormed toward her and she screamed, firing off another shot. That one missed but still stunned him.

  He pulled out his gun and aimed, and she quickly dropped to the floor. The bullet hit the window, glass shattering. A shard hit her face, and she winced. Reaching up, she felt the slippery blood. Just a flesh wound.

  Crawling, she made it to the side of Doc’s bed. She had to defend her sleeping biker. He couldn’t do it himself, and after all the times he’d saved her arse, it was owed.

  No. She shook her head. It’s because I love him. He can’t die. I have to tell him.

  A blaring alarm sounded throughout the hospital, the gunshots clearly announcing the peril. She popped off another shot, this time hitting the man’s leg. “Feck, feck, feck!”

  She stared at the gun, then her hands. They weren’t trembling anymore. Adrenaline. It must be adrenaline. I’m not a coldblooded killer… right?

  “Isa, give me the gun,” a raspy voice commanded.

  Looking up, she met Doc’s blue eyes and mutely handed it over.

  He checked the chamber, then sat up and fired the rest of the magazine into the Twelve Brothers prospect. The man’s face went blank, and he staggered backward before crumpling into a mass of blood and flesh. Isa held a hand over her mouth at the bullets’ precision. One hit him in the stomach, one in the chest, and one in his forehead.

  “Are you all right?” Doc asked, standing and shaking her shoulders.

  She slowly looked away from the dead man and into Doc’s worried eyes. “I’m fine. What about you? He shot at you. Are you okay?”

  He pulled her against him, cupping the base of her neck. “Yeah, baby, I’m okay.”

  A thundering of boots echoed down the hall. The doorway filled with two security guards and three Macha members. Hawk stood with blood trickling down his face, a vicious expression in his eyes. Cueball was behind him, equally pissed and bloodied.

  Doc eased her out of his arms enough to give her a quick once-over.

  “It was the missing Twelve Brothers member, wasn’t it?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Yeah, he got the drop on Cue, then me,” Hawk filled in. “I came to and heard shots. A car was outside waiting for you, Isa, with a hired hand from the Twelve Brothers. I got that much out of him before I rather nicely punched his lights out.” He rubbed his knuckles. “Either of you injured?”

  Her eyes dipped to Doc. The recent events reopened his stitches, a crimson circle expanding on his hospital gown. A sheen of sweat lined his brow, and his face was nearly as
white as the sheets on the nearby bed. She gasped at the littering of bullet holes where he’d been lying. A few inches to the left and he would’ve been killed.

  “We’re good.” He nodded to the dead imposter. “Him, not so much.”

  “He came to take Doc out,” Isa explained. “I had no choice but to shoot him.” She swallowed. “Twice.”

  Hawk and Cueball exchanged an impressed glance and stepped fully into the room.

  “But I finished him off,” Doc said as the security guards covered the dead man with a sheet.

  “There’ll be an investigation, of course, but with the security camera in the corner, you should be fine,” the shorter of the two security guards said. “The police will be here shortly to get statements.”

  Isa glanced over her shoulder. She hadn’t even noticed the small camera positioned in the corner of the room near the ceiling.

  “Talk about one hell of a day.” Hawk carefully stepped over the body on the floor.

  “Prez is on his way,” Cueball said, putting away his phone.

  “Good, he can take Isa back to the lodge.” Doc shifted his weight, pain etched on his brow.

  “I can’t leave you here.” Her head spun, and suddenly she couldn’t stop her hands from shaking.

  Cueball was there, easing her into one of the chairs before she could fall.

  “Whoa, I think you need to sit too.” Hawk jumped over and helped Doc into the last open chair, brushing off the glass shards first. “That dress of yours sure shows off the goods,” he teased. “Mazel tov, brother.”

  “Didn’t know you were Jewish.” Doc chuckled and flipped Hawk off.

  “And I didn’t know you were packing heat down there.” He laughed when Doc gave him both middle fingers. “I’ll go grab the doc, Doc.”