by Cat Mason
Now that the adrenaline is fading, so is the mask she puts up to hide what is going on in her head. Whether she wants to admit it or not, I can see how visibly shaken she still is by the shit that went down on the lot. Her hands are still trembling, and her beautiful blue eyes are red and swollen from crying.
That is in large part because of me. I know that.
I hate that I couldn’t tell her what was happening, but there wasn’t time for that shit. Doing that could have put her at risk and I was not about to allow that to happen again. Her anger about that is buried beneath the relief that I wasn’t killed, and the worry she feels now that she has heard how critical Doc’s condition is has really been.
At the ICU doors, we are immediately met by the same nurse Jinks was talking to before. “Decoda, Dr. Holloman has explained several times, only immediate family are allowed back with your father.”
“I’m Cheyenne Jinks,” Shy says, stepping between them. “Nathan Jinks is my father. I need to see him now.”
The nurse’s eyes move to me. “Sorry, Sweetheart.” Reaching out, I lace Shy’s fingers with my own, making it crystal fucking clear that I won’t be going anywhere. “Gonna need you to make an exception for me.” Flashing her my biggest smile, I cross my fingers over my heart as I speak like a little girl making a promise to her best friend. “I’ll tuck myself in a corner and be a perfect gentleman. You won’t even know I’m here.”
“I highly doubt that,” she says, sarcasm dripping from her lips. Looking up and down the hallway quickly, she nods her head. “Go ahead; you cause any trouble, I never saw you. Got me?”
“Loud and clear,” I reply, giving her a mock salute with my other hand.
Jinks pushes the door open and gestures for Shy to go ahead of him. Her grip on my hand tightens, a sob tearing from her chest when she sees Doc lying in the bed. “Oh God.” Bringing her other hand up to her mouth, she gasps. Looking to me, her eyes fill with tears again. I would rather take a knife to the heart than see the broken look on her face. “You should’ve told me,” she breathes. Dropping my hand, she goes to him. “Pop,” she chokes out, covering his hand with hers.
Stepping up behind her, I give her arms a squeeze. “I wasn’t tellin’ you that shit over the phone like that. You had enough to worry about, Babe.”
“Agreed,” Jinks says, walking over and dropping down into a chair in the corner. “Pop’s a tough old bastard. No sense in worryin’ you because he lost one of his nine lives. Hell, Doctor Holloman is confident he’ll be good as new in no time.” Scrubbing a hand over his head, Jinks whistles through his teeth. “He’s gonna be pissed when he finds out what he’s missed.”
“You can say that again,” I tell him, releasing my hold on Shy to move the chair beside the bed close enough for her to sit in. Pressing a hand to her shoulder, I make sure she does exactly that. “Especially seeing Ashmead go all rouge badass.” Shy and Jinks both look at me, completely confused. “What?” I shrug, dropping my ass to the arm of Shy’s chair. “Grouchy old fucker digs the badge.”
“Pop?” she asks, squeezing his hand. “D and I aren’t ready to handle shit ourselves. Besides, you’re gonna be a grandfather. I’m gonna need you for a while longer, okay?” Gasping, she jumps to her feet.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, shifting forward to get a better look.
“He squeezed my hand.”
Doc’s lips twitch up into a half smile. “I’m here, Baby girl,” Doc says, his voice barely audible. “Just restin’ my eyes.”
“Pop.” Shy’s voice is filled with relief. “Do you need anything? Are you okay? Jesus,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “Of course you’re not okay.”
“Gonna take a lot more than a couple bullets to put this old dog down,” he tells her. “Thirsty as hell though.”
Jinks jumps up, both of us watching as Doc’s thumb moves back and forth over her hand. “I’ll get the nurse,” Jinks says, striding from the room.
Opening his eyes, Doc blinks several times before focusing in on Shy. His smile widens, relief and love filling his eyes. He clears his throat. “You look like hell.”
“Thanks,” she sniffles. “You should see the other guy.”
“’Atta girl.” His eyes move to me, the smile fading. “You still plan to make good on what you said before?”
“Heard that, huh?” I ask, thinking back to the one-sided conversation.
“Heard what?” Shy asks, her eyes shifting between the two of us.
“Bet your ass,” he nods. “You had shit to get off your chest. Thought it best to let ya do that instead of tellin’ ya shit you already know.”
Pushing to my feet, I nod my head. “I meant every word.” Though I feel Shy’s eyes on me, I keep mine on Doc.
He nods. “Knew you had love for my little girl. It wasn’t ‘til shit went down at Thurmond Lake that I decided you could ever be the right man for her.”
“I didn’t hesitate,” I reply, honestly. I think back to that day and how calm I was when I dove out from behind that tree and tackled Doc to the ground. The only thought in my mind, at that moment, was how much Cheyenne needed Doc. Losing him is one of the things she is most afraid of. I couldn’t allow that to happen. “You mean too much to her to go out like that.”
His face turns serious, but there is pride in his eyes when he looks at me. “You were willing to sacrifice yourself to protect her from that hurt.” Cheyenne lets go of Doc’s hand. Facing me, she searches my eyes, tears filling her own, but she doesn’t say anything.
“I love her,” I say, my eyes moving to Shy. Her eyes widen, a tear slipping down her cheek as she gives me a small smile. Reaching out, I swipe the tear away with my thumb. “You do whatever it takes for the ones you love.”
“Hope you understand the love she’s got for you,” Doc continues. “Means the blade slices just as deep if she loses you. Remember that, Son.”
“I will,” I assure him, knowing that he would probably climb out of that bed and beat my ass if he knew the shit I pulled earlier. Hate to break it to him, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat for her.
“How are we feeling, Nathan?” the nurse says, strolling into the room with a jug of water and a Styrofoam cup with a lid and straw.
“Like I did shots of sand and razor blades,” he says, clearing his throat.
“I bet,” she replies, working on filling the cup. “How about some water?” Shy and I step back, allowing her to get to him. Securing the lid, she slips the straw into it and holds it to his lips. “Small sips, Nathan.”
Doc takes a couple drinks, then pulls back. Looking up at her, he arches a brow. “Woman, no one’s called me Nathan in over twenty years,” he chuckles. Instantly, he hisses out a breath and presses his hand to his chest. “Guess my body ain’t ready for jokes just yet.”
Looking at her watch, the nurse nods. “Your body has limitations while it heals. You’ll need to accept that.”
“Yeah right,” Jinks mutters from the doorway. “Stubborn son of a bitch thinks he’s ten foot tall and bulletproof.”
“Obviously, I’m not bulletproof, asshole,” Doc grunts, flipping him off. “Now get the hell outta here and let me get some rest. Vistin’ hours are over.”
The nurse steps aside, allowing Shy to lean down and kiss Doc’s cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Pop. Want me to bring ya anything?”
“Chili dogs, chocolate cake, and a pint jar from the pantry in my room,” he says, winking at her. His eyes move to the nurse, then back to Shy. “On second thought, probably best not to bring the dogs. Bet those aren’t approved for my post-op diet.”
“I’m sure liquor isn’t either, Pop,” Shy scowls, giving his hand one last squeeze.
Pushing off the door jam, Jinks smirks. “Hateful old fucker bled White Lightnin’ when he was shot. Those EMTs came runnin’ with Mason Jars and shot glasses.”
“Good,” Doc replies. “Bill the bastards. We can put that cash toward the medical bills.”
Sittin
g his cup on the table beside the bed, the nurse tells Doc she is going to get his meds ready before following us out of the room. Shy’s hand slides into mine as we make our way out to the parking lot where Torch sits in the van waiting beside my bike.
When Jinks opens the passenger door for Shy, she shakes her head. “I’m ridin’ back with Schrader.”
“You’re not gettin’ on the back of a bike in your condition,” Jinks says, shaking his head. “Not after all the shit that’s gone down.”
“I wasn’t askin’ you, Big Brother,” Shy bites out. “Huck drove Nita to the hospital on the back of his Harley when she went into labor with Jessica. I’ve had enough men barkin’ orders at me the last two days to last me a lifetime. You can ki—”
Knowing this is going to turn into a fight, I step between them. “Babe.”
“Jason Schrader, I swear, if you even try to—”
Reaching out, I tuck her long brown hair behind her ear. The rest of her words lodge in her throat, ending the argument I knew would have ended with Shy actually breaking his nose this time. Sighing softly, her body relaxes as she tilts her face into my hand, seeking more of my touch. There it is, the sweet that I have spent the last two days missing like fucking crazy. My other arm wraps around her waist, pulling her body into mine, needing her as close as possible.
“Please,” she breathes, her eyes drifting closed. “Schrader, I need this.”
I don’t ask questions. I don’t have to. Her hands slide up my arms and behind my neck, her fingers diving into my hair. Pushing up on her toes, she brushes her lips over mine. My arm tightens around her, needing her as close as possible. Her tongue traces my bottom lip. She whimpers softly against my lips, the sound driving me fucking crazy. Her kiss is soft and slow, like she is savoring every second. It takes everything in me not to thrust my tongue into her mouth and devour her right here, but this isn’t about me.
When she finally pulls back, she looks up at me, her eyes soft and pleading. I start to tell her to get in the damn van. She is exhausted and stretched so thin it is a miracle she is on her feet. But I can’t say the words. My girl needs me, needs the ride to clear her head just as much as I do, and I will be damned if I will say no to that.
“My girl belongs on the back of my bike and that’s exactly where she’s gonna be.” Releasing my hold on her, I hold out my hand. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Shy
My brother was pissed when I put on Schrader’s helmet and climbed onto his bike behind him, but that is too damn bad. I understand his concern, I really do, but it is misplaced. I would never do something that I feel is putting myself, or the baby, at unnecessary risk. I trust Schrader with my life, why wouldn’t I place the same trust in him when it comes to the baby?
Decoda is being over-protective and unrealistic when it comes to how our lives are. Growing up like we did, it was typical to see women riding, even pregnant. Some even riding up until their due dates and no one questioned it. We get as much enjoyment out of the ride as the guys. It is one of the main reasons why I knew I would end up an Ol’ Lady. Even as a little girl, it was clear to me that I could never give that piece of my life up. I have always felt more alive on a bike than anywhere else in the world. The wind in my hair and the air rushing over my skin is the closest thing to being completely and totally free anyone will ever feel. The speed, the vibrations, two bodies leaning and shifting with each curve, every single second providing a rush that is both exhilarating and relaxing at the same time.
Never in my life have I needed anything as fucking much as I need to feel that tonight.
Schrader is overly cautious on the ride back, taking the backroads much slower than usual, but I don’t mind. If anything, it makes the ride back to the clubhouse that much longer. I would draw it out more if I could. With my arms wrapped around him, I press my cheek to his shoulder and close my eyes, not needing to see the road illuminated by the street lights. The bike, he and I, move as one. Every curve, each shift in the road, I feel them all through him and the bike and roll with each movement he makes. There is sense of intimacy in it, a closeness that has made it difficult for me to ride with just anyone.
When we pull through the gates, everyone is waiting outside, surrounding the picnic tables and lit fire pits. Schrader pulls up in front of the clubhouse where Stone, Colt, and Huck are waiting with Ro, Nita, and Henley. Seeing Henley here surprises me. Even more so when Jet starts walking our way. Almost instantly, Colt’s arm comes around Henley’s shoulders, the look on his face telling any of the other guys here know that she is off limits.
Interesting.
Climbing off the bike, I take off the helmet and hand it to Schrader. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days,” Nita huffs, wrapping her arms around me tight. “Every one of you drivin’ me right into the goddamn ground.”
“Don’t buy the plot yet,” I tell her, hugging her to me. “I’m okay.”
“No.” Pulling back, she shakes her head. Clicking her tongue, she runs the tips of her fingers over my cheek, taking her time to look me over. “Don’t you dare play this off, little girl. You look like you went a few rounds with a heavyweight.”
“It’s all over now,” Schrader assures her, stepping up beside me. “We made damn sure of that.”
“Plenty of good things to be thankful for,” Nita nods, her eyes dropping to my stomach. “And a baby to plan for,” she says, sounding damn near giddy. “Anything you need, sweetheart. The club is here and cannot wait to welcome this sweet baby into the family,” she adds, pressing a hand to my belly.
“Absolutely,” Stone agrees with a nod. “I know you feel guilt from what D.A. did, but that’s not on you, Shy. Or the baby you’re carryin’. The club won’t hold it against either of you. Ever. I promise you that.”
“Right,” Nita says, taking a step back. “Time to put the guilt down. A baby is a reason to celebrate.”
“Okay,” I nod, pushing back tears of relief. It feels like a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. Even if I know deep down that I had nothing to do with any of the shit Troy caused, it feels good hearing Stone and some of the others reassuring me.
“Grandpa Doc,” Colt chuckles, shaking his head. “Sippin’ ‘shine and readin’ Dr. Seuss. Should be entertainin’ as fuck. Green Eggs and Ham will be more like Copper Pots and Mash.”
“Stop it,” Nita scolds, slapping him on the arm. “We’ve got so much to do.”
“Planning can wait until tomorrow,” I yawn. “Or, you know, any of the other days of the thirty weeks I have left.”
Ro and Henley sandwich me into a hug of their own. “Nice to see you, too,” I grunt when they squeeze the air from me.
“I’m sorry I outted you like I did,” Henley says once they finally release their grip. “I couldn’t stand the thought of everyone focusing on playin’ who’s the daddy while you were being held hostage and your dad was on an operating table. It was like soap opera drama in that waiting room.”
“It’s okay. Sometimes the guys need a boot in the ass to get refocused. You gave ‘em that.” My eyes move to Stone and I swallow hard, mustering up my courage to overstep. “I know you don’t have to tell me shit, but—”
“Everyone’s whole,” he says, reading my mind. “And everything’s handled. Ashmead’s made sure no one sees any blowback.” Wrapping an arm around Roanne, he smiles. “It’s. Over.”
“Good,” I sigh, feeling relieved. “Enjoy the fire, I’m going to bed. Tomorrow, I’ll make a big breakfast for everyone.”
Colt rubs one of his big hands over his stomach. “Don’t tease a hungry man.”
“You’re always hungry, Colt.” Passing him, I pat his stomach. “Don’t know where you put it,” I add, knowing that beneath the leather and red t-shirt he is wearing are abs you could probably bounce a quarter off of.
Once inside the clubhouse, I head straight for my room; wanting nothing more than a hot shower and to sleep in my
own bed. Switching on the light, I begin stripping out of my clothes on the way into the bathroom. After adjusting the water and getting it as hot as I can stand, I step into the spray, desperate to scrub away the last few days.
Pressing my forehead to the cool tile, I close my eyes, breathing in and out slowly as the water pours down over me. It feels like Heaven. The hot water hits my shoulders and back, soothing the muscles that have begun to ache now that the adrenaline has worn off.
The curtain shifts behind me, the fabric brushing the backs of my calves. Schrader’s hands grip my hips as he steps in behind me. “Shit,” he hisses through his teeth. “Why does the water from your pipes come straight outta the pits of hell, Woman?” he asks, reaching around me to adjust the water.
“The heat relaxes me.”
“That’s my job.” His hands move up my body, the rough callouses on his hands sending sparks throughout my body. “Brought you something to eat from the kitchen,” he says softly, his fingers running over my abdomen. “Nita insisted.”
“I’m not hungry,” I reply, bracing my hands on the tile beside my head.
“That’s fine.” Moving my hair from my shoulder, he leans in so his lips brush my ear. “I’m happy where we’re at.”
“Me too.” Sighing, I lean back into his body, his thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts. “Schrader?”
“Mmm,” he hums, kissing his way down my neck. His hands cover my breasts, kneading my tender flesh. “You gonna tell me to stop?”
“God,” I groan, rocking my ass back into his erection. “Don’t you dare.”
Tugging on my nipple, Schrader smiles against my skin. “Tell me what you want, Shy.”