Steel: A Dark MC Romance (A Dark and Dirty Sinners’ MC Book 4)

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Steel: A Dark MC Romance (A Dark and Dirty Sinners’ MC Book 4) Page 15

by Serena Akeroyd


  He looked like he was drunk. His head was knocked to the side, not like he was watching the women suck him down, but like he was asleep.

  My heart pounded as I began to back away, but at least I knew what I was dealing with. Or what I wouldn’t be dealing with in future.

  It would be easy to harden my heart to what I’d seen, to—

  I closed my eyes the second I was outside, grateful I hadn’t been caught.

  When I dashed over to my bunkhouse, I puked up my guts, splashing the small bushes beside the door with my stomach contents.

  As the rush in my ears subsided, I wiped the back of my hand over my mouth and propped my clean one on my knee.

  This was what brothers did.

  Did I think Steel was a virgin? No.

  But here I was, on the compound, and he hadn’t come to see me, hadn’t been the one to bring me here. No, Bear had done that.

  Steel was just shit-faced getting sucked off on a pool table.

  Where was the man I knew?

  Another wave of nausea hit me, making me think that if I didn’t get off the compound, I’d go insane.

  I headed into the bunkhouse, grabbed my running shoes from the rucksack, and switched my flip-flops out.

  I usually wore a supportive bra because my tits were big, and with my stretchy leggings and tee, I knew I could run the couple of miles into town with no problem.

  Where I’d go after was another matter entirely.

  But getting away was imperative.

  I’d only been in my new home for under an hour, and I already wanted out.

  That didn’t bode well, did it?

  Neither did what I’d seen.

  Steel was mine. Not those bunnies’. Mine.

  Or…was he?

  From what I’d just seen, he wasn’t, but after that conversation with Mav, my hopes had definitely been high.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid me.

  Hadn’t I learned by now that hoping was the only way to get your heart broken?

  I’d hoped Steel would kiss me.

  I’d hoped we’d start dating.

  I’d hoped he’d claim me.

  But here I was, alone in a bunkhouse because Mom had left me in a ton of debt, my arms bruised thanks to the debt collectors who’d come around, all the while, the love of my life was being sucked off by club snatch, and…

  I closed my eyes.

  I needed to run far and fast away from here, away from him.

  He’d been the only hope I’d dared have, and he’d proven to me, yet again, that hoping was a fool’s game.

  Of course, that didn’t stop my heart from hurting even more. I just needed to outrun the pain. I could do that, couldn’t I? I had to try at least.

  Thirteen

  Stone

  Today

  “We think she used a cocktail of drugs to sedate you, Stone,” my physician explained, as I tried not to fall asleep, “and that’s why the results are lingering as each one has a different length of time for it to leave the bloodstream.” The guy blew out a breath. “To be completely frank, you’re lucky you’re alive with the levels she used of some of them.” His eyes flared wide as he checked my charts, and though a part of me wanted to look and read over them, I also didn’t want to know.

  I guessed that was strange, but I was in a weird half-life at the moment. More passive than usual, more accepting of things I couldn’t change.

  One of those things was being taken hostage by a nutcase who wanted to hide her killing spree, so what was the point in worrying about the cocktail I’d been fed? All relative, no?

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out the specifics. For the mix to have hit my bloodstream the way it had, and with the way my heart had been pounding at first, I knew I’d been dosed up with adrenaline. For the instant knockout, there had to be diazepam or something else in there, and with the way I was feeling like I was high? Maybe some morphine in there too.

  With that combination, I had more than God on my side for me to still be alive long enough to walk around on this Earth. Now that they knew what I’d been dosed with, I knew they’d treat me appropriately.

  My biggest concern were the cops, who I knew were waiting outside my room to speak with me.

  Indy had been bitching at them for the past few hours, and I knew that was because they’d been wanting to question me while I was asleep.

  Some of that time, I’d genuinely been resting, some other parts, I hadn’t. I’d just been playing dead—oh, the irony—because I couldn’t face them.

  Couldn’t face their questions.

  I knew what it was like to be suspected of everything because of my background, and I knew that, in this instance, the cops might not believe my side of the story.

  I bit my lip, wishing like hell that Steel was here, but before the doctor could finish speaking, someone knocked on the door, then barged in.

  My eyes flared wide at the sight of Rachel Laker storming in with a briefcase in hand that I knew cost a small fortune, dressed in a bright red pantsuit that made her look like a butterfly in this shitty room.

  I already felt like crap, but to see her looking so pristine just made me feel even shittier.

  When the doctor started eying her up, I almost wanted him to give me the breakdown on the drugs, but doubted that would have uncleaved his tongue from the roof of his mouth. So, I stuck my own tongue out at him, then rolled my eyes when he didn’t even notice.

  Though Rachel was a year older than me, and though she’d always been Rex’s, we’d never been all that close.

  Why would we be?

  Everything about us was opposite, even if we were both professional women who’d worked hard while relying on the MC to get us where we were today.

  That wasn’t enough to base a friendship on.

  Rachel was also stuck up, slightly snooty, a severe pain in the ass, and more argumentative than Judge Judy. In fact, she made Judge Judy look wicked chill.

  The thought made my lips curve, and when I cast Indy a look and spotted the disgusted glare she was aiming at the doctor, I had to smile, even as I gazed at the other woman, and asked, “What are you doing here, Rachel?”

  She placed her briefcase on the bed beside my feet. “What do you think? Rex brought me in.” Her eyes scanned over me with a coolness that didn’t surprise me. What did? The warmth in her voice as she inquired, “Are you doing okay?”

  I blinked, taken aback by how nice she sounded, and I felt Indy’s surprise too.

  The doctor cleared his throat. “I-I’ll be on my way now, Stone.”

  I cast him a disinterested glance but nodded my thanks.

  He slipped out of the room, his gaze trained totally on Rachel as he almost collided with the door.

  Rachel, of course, didn’t notice. With her chic bob, perfect makeup, and a figure that was to kill for in the bright scarlet pantsuit? She was above most peons.

  I always wondered, whenever I saw her, what Rex found appealing.

  Sure, she was beautiful. I wasn’t gay, but I’d fuck her, for God’s sake. She was that kind of gorgeous. Like she belonged in an artsy-fartsy Italian movie. She was what poets dreamed of having as a muse.

  But Rex?

  My bud? The head of an MC? Who castrated pedophiles before breakfast and had no issues with engaging in some of the worst crimes imaginable?

  With Rachel, who had a stick up her ass? Who believed in the law?

  It was more than a match made in hell.

  “She’s lucky to be alive,” Indy ground out on my behalf, and I wanted to smile at her, soothe her, but there was no soothing the truth. “The cops want to talk to her, even though she’s just been through a traumatic event and is exhausted and apparently still drugged up!”

  Rachel narrowed her eyes. “I passed them on the way in. You haven’t said a word to them?”

  I shook my head. “No. I’ve been resting. I’ve been too tired to say anything.”

  Her gaze softened. “I’m sorry, Stone
. This is a terrible situation to be in.”

  I blew out a breath. “Thank you, Rachel.”

  She smiled gently at me. “Okay, we need to get the story straight.”

  “There is no story,” Indy snapped, and I reached out and pressed a hand to her shoulder.

  “Calm down, love.”

  Rachel’s gaze drifted to my wrist. “She tied you up?”

  “Badly,” I admitted. “I don’t think she was a hardened killer.”

  “The police have been through her things. She had detailed notes on patients who recently died. Indy told us your suspicions. I passed them onto the cops, who were wondering why someone like Annie Young would do such a thing as kidnap you.”

  “Annie,” I muttered. “That was her name.” I winced then. “Fuck, I feel bad for killing her and not knowing her name.”

  “What actually happened?” Rachel asked carefully, so I told her.

  I explained how I’d been tied down but not effectively, how I’d managed to get myself out of the tape’s bindings, then how I’d slashed at her throat as she’d been entering the room.

  I bit my lip as she processed all that without a word. “It’s self-defense, isn’t it?”

  I could feel Indy’s nerves, and I didn’t blame her, considering Caleb had been sent down for a crime where, with a more lenient and less prejudiced judge, he’d have only served a month’s sentence in jail. And that was with this shark on his side. Rachel would make a great white quiver in the water.

  Rachel nodded. “Without a shadow of a doubt. Rex wanted me here because he said you were concerned about how some things might be perceived because of your ties to the club. I understand that fear, so I came over as soon as I could.”

  “You don’t think they’ll twist things around?”

  Rachel shrugged. “Just let them try.”

  It was clear to me, however, that Rachel hadn’t been sure if I’d had some more involvement in Annie Young’s death. After all, why would she ask me for my story if that wasn’t what she expected to hear?

  Fiction? I wished.

  Christ, I wished this entire nightmare was nothing more than something I dreamed up in an exhausted sleep.

  I sucked in a breath as she questioned, “You ready for the police? They’re not going to go away, and you might be able to rest easier knowing that particular conversation is over.” Seemed like she was asking, but wasn’t giving me a choice as she carried on, steamrolling over anything I had to say, “I’ll keep things off you, since there’s no reason for them to interrogate you, but they’ll want to hear the facts as you just told them to me.” She pointed to the corner of the room, and murmured, “I’ll be standing over here so I can hear everything without being a distraction.”

  Before I could say a word, she turned around, grabbed the doorknob, twisted it, and then pulled it open. As it opened, she slipped to the side and headed into the corner where she’d pointed.

  The police were standing near the doorway, and I smiled wanly at them.

  One of the two detectives was a woman, and she cast me a soft smile as I stared at her with concern.

  They both wore the requisite bland suits, but the guy had a paunch the size of Long Island, and the woman was as trim as Indy.

  She held out her hand as she approached me, and I shook it, feeling the pain in my arms and shoulders from where I’d fallen on my side yesterday.

  God, yesterday. How did that feel like a lifetime ago?

  I sighed, trying to process that and failing.

  “I’m Detective Wandsworth and this is Detective Granger. We’re with the fourteenth precinct, ma’am, and we’re investigating the incident that occurred yesterday. Are you well enough to speak with us?”

  “Would you care if she said no?” Indy muttered, and I shot her a sharp look.

  “Indy,” I groused, watching as she hunched her shoulders. Though the move was defensive, I ignored it and her, and said, “I’m just very tired.”

  “The doctors confirmed that you were drugged by Annie Young. The cocktail of medications was most unusual.”

  “Well, she worked as a pharmacy tech,” I replied warily. “I guess it makes sense that she could mix stuff together that shouldn’t necessarily be combined.”

  Detective Wandsworth hummed at that. “What do you remember about the attack?”

  “Very little. I was on the phone with my friend, Indy,” I replied, pointing to her. “Then, out of nowhere, I felt a prick in my throat, something was shoved over my face that I figure was chloroform, and after that, I felt nothing else. I was out for the count.”

  “You woke up in Ms. Young’s apartment?”

  I swallowed. “I was alone, and I knew that I had to get out of there.” I released a shaky breath. “I’ve never been so scared in all my life.”

  “Understandable,” the detective murmured, her smile sympathetic.

  “How did you free yourself?”

  I stared at Granger, who’d asked the question, and raised my hands. “She tied me up with regular tape, like the stuff you’d use on packing boxes. Not duct tape. She didn’t even tape down my feet or anything.

  “I knew I had to get loose, otherwise I’d be screwed, so I managed to work free of the ties, and then I escaped by crawling over to a dresser, grabbing one of her vases, and smashing it over her head. When she came for me again, I had no alternative but to—” I dipped my chin, my throat growing tight as I thought about how easy it had been to kill Annie.

  Fuck, there hadn’t been a second’s hesitation on my part either. I’d just slashed at her like I was some kind of pro, and lo and behold, she’d bled out.

  I’d seen blood before, for fuck’s sake. But that blood was different.

  That blood had been shed because of me, and I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get over that.

  Even if it had been for self-defense.

  Do no harm… That was the promise I’d made when I took the Hippocratic Oath, yet I’d broken it. Ruptured it in two.

  A hand reached out and patted my arm. I flinched at the touch, then blinked when I realized it was the cop.

  Was this the good cop, bad cop shit going down in front of my eyes?

  Wandsworth looked sympathetic, empathetic even. Granger looked like he’d sat on a beehive.

  While he was wearing no clothes.

  I gulped. “Sorry. It was a hard thing to experience.”

  “Hard thing to see,” Granger retorted, his sneer evident. “That was a great hit for your first time, but then, I have to wonder with your ties if it is indeed your first time slicing someone up.”

  Rachel barked, “Detective, I’ll gladly ask you not to bait my client after what was clearly a traumatic experience. My client is close to becoming a doctor, she’s an honest, hard-working, decent citizen, who does have a past, because who doesn’t? But aside from that past, it has not infringed upon her future.

  “Just by looking at her wrists, at the drugs in her system, which her blood tests have confirmed, and the marks on her throat where the injection site was, you can see that she isn’t faking this story.”

  Granger just sniffed, and even though he was talking about shit that was my nightmare come to life, I didn’t bother looking at him. Instead, I looked at Rachel.

  She’d come alive in a way I’d never seen before, which was interesting because everyone knew she was an ice princess, yet here she was, burning so brightly, it was a wonder moths didn’t come out of hiding and start flying around her.

  I rubbed at the bandages on my wrists, rubbed at them because they were sore, but they were also a little itchy from the tape I guessed, and I sighed as I wondered if I came alive like that in the ER.

  Maybe I did.

  If this was her passion, why wouldn’t I come alive when I was able to do something that was mine?

  I pursed my lips before I muttered, “I had no idea who she was. No idea what her name was or anything. I recognized her face from around the wards, but that’s it. I never imagin
ed she’d be the one—”

  “The angel of death?”

  I nodded but didn’t bother to look at Wandsworth.

  “How long did you know someone was killing patients at the hospital?”

  Nausea only added to my dizziness. “I had my suspicions for ten or so weeks. Three distinct patients who died out of the blue were three people too many, but in those instances, there wasn’t much I could do aside from suggest an autopsy, and let’s face it, that wasn’t going to happen.

  “End-stage cancer patients who die with no warning? Yeah, that’s exactly how it works. Even if I’d gone to a superior, I was pretty sure it would be hushed up.”

  “There are protocols in place.”

  Rachel surprised me by snorting at that—seemed she had as much faith in protocols as I did—but I just shook my head. “The truth is, if I’d gone to a superior, they’d have laughed me out of their office, and I’d probably have found myself on administrative leave for some trumped up BS reason.

  “Then, if I’d gone to the cops, you would have laughed me out of the station because I had no evidence, no solid proof to back up the facts I had.”

  “And what facts were they?”

  “Louis Hunt could eat orange Jell-O until it started coming out of his ears. He had eight cups the day before he died.”

  Wandsworth frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “Exactly. You don’t. You don’t get it, and you wouldn’t have believed me if I’d come to you back then with my explanations. I had no means of getting retribution for any of my patients who died, and the only thing I could do was try to keep them safe.

  “The truth is, I’ve been working double shifts trying to keep an eye on everyone, but I’m only one person.”

  “Is that why you’ve been so busy recently?” Indy asked, astonishment lacing her tone.

  I shrugged. “Yeah. It wasn’t like I had much of a say in it, Indy. I wasn’t about to let them be unprotected, and even then, it didn’t work, did it? Angela still fucking died.”

  “Angela Corburton?”

  “Yeah,” I answered Granger. “Is it true you found files on patients she ‘helped’?”

 

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