by Burke, Dez
Whoa! Kendra’s mind started churning. Twenty thousand dollars would take the center out of the red. The wildlife rehabilitation center was currently funded solely by donations and by her vet practice that shared the same building. There were times when the center barely had enough money for raw meat for the carnivores, much less any specialized housing facilities.
She thought of all the things twenty thousand dollars could do for the center. A donation that large would help build a huge outdoor aviary for the orphaned and injured raptors that came in every year. Plus the money might even cover the cost of a deer facility to allow the baby fawns to acclimate to the weather before being released back into the wild.
On one hand, she absolutely loathed the thought of getting involved with a motorcycle gang up to their necks in illegal activities. On the other hand, the money would help feed a lot of animals when baby animal season rolled around in the spring.
This wasn’t the first time Kendra had been faced with difficult choices where animals were concerned. And this time, like every other time, no matter the consequences, she chose the side of the animals. Right or wrong, it didn't matter.
She didn’t hesitate. “Okay, I’ll stay,” she said firmly. “How long do you need me?”
Jesse heaved a long sigh of relief. She noticed he was quite a handsome man in a bad boy sort of way. Though not as devilishly good-looking as his injured brother.
“As long as you can spare,” he replied. “Flint needs to stay here where he is safe and out of sight for a couple of days at least.”
“You’re lucky it’s a Friday and I don’t have any big plans. A few of my staff are on duty at the clinic all weekend to take care of the animals, but I’ll need to be back at work on Monday morning. Three nights at the absolute maximum and that’s it. No more. Two would be better. One of you fellows better be back up here bright and early to check on him no later than Monday morning.”
Jesse reached out to shake her hand again. “Thank you so much, Dr. Shaw. You don’t know how much this means to us. Especially to me.”
Kendra shook his hand and dropped it quickly. “Let’s get something straight,” she interrupted. “I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for the wildlife clinic. As long as you come through with your end of the deal, we’ll all be fine. Don’t even think about screwing me over.”
“Don’t worry, my word is good,” Jesse replied.
“Good. Before all of you hightail it out of here, I need you to answer me one more question.”
“What’s that?”
“How do you know the people who shot Flint, the Liberators, aren’t going to come up here looking for him? If they knew your route before, wouldn’t it be plausible they would know where to find him now?”
“Don’t worry,” Jesse replied. “This is a safe house. Nobody outside our club knows about it. You’ll both be safe here, I promise. I wouldn’t leave him here unprotected if I didn’t believe that.”
“A safe house?” Kendra echoed. She didn’t realize such things existed in real life but then again, she didn’t make it a habit to hang around people who might need one. “Who owns it?”
“A man who owes us a big favor. That’s all you need to know. Trust me, the least you know about our business, the better off you’ll be.”
“No doubt,” she agreed.
Kendra followed the men out the back door of the house and watched as they climbed onto their motorcycles and roared off in single file. She waited until they were out of sight before walking back to her truck. After unlocking the glove box, she pulled out a pistol and the extra box of bullets she always kept stowed there.
Kendra hoped Jesse was right about the Liberators not knowing where to find Flint. In any case, the pistol made her feel a little safer. On second thought, so would the shotgun hidden underneath the front seat.
Looking like a gunslinger from the Wild West, she carried both guns into the house and locked the door behind her. After placing both guns on a table by the door, she sent up a small prayer that the weekend would go by quickly and without incident.
Chapter Three
Kendra’s cell phone beeped incessantly, waking her up out of a restless sleep and alerting her to the fact that it was time to give Flint his pain medication once again. She yawned and checked the time. Three a.m. She was already exhausted and the night wasn’t even half over yet.
Thankfully, Flint had slept peacefully most of the evening and into the early hours of the morning. As for herself, sleep was harder to come by. Eventually she dozed off, curled up close by him in a reclining chair.
She watched Flint’s sleeping figure sprawled out on the couch and couldn’t help but wonder how he got involved with the Steel Infidels in the first place. His brother Jesse would probably have been a huge influence on him. And she remembered Jesse mentioning a younger brother Sam, who ran a tattoo parlor. So there were at least three brothers in the gang, maybe more.
Kendra had always been a person who tried not to judge others without knowing their circumstances first. For some reason, this time it was proving difficult. Sure, the economy was tough and jobs were hard to come by, but in no way did that justify breaking the law or selling drugs.
She wondered how low Flint was willing to go to make money. Steal cars? Cheat old people? Sell drugs? Murder? Who knew? These were the kind of questions that were none of her business.
Kendra stretched her tired muscles and walked into the kitchen. Leaning against the counter, she checked her cell phone for the hundredth time out of habit. No calls. Too bad she didn’t know Flint’s last name or she would already have checked out one of the numerous mug shot websites. She suspected they would be able to tell her plenty about how many times he had been arrested and for what. If she really wanted to know.
After eating a bowl of the butter pecan ice cream she’d found in the freezer, she walked back into the living room and turned on the lamp. Kneeling beside the couch, she whispered, “Flint, wake up. It’s time for your pain medication.” She gently touched his uninjured shoulder. “Flint.”
Before she had a chance to react, he grabbed her with his good arm, dragging her across his body and pinning her tightly underneath him.
“Who the fuck are you?” he growled, using his body weight to hold her down. “Who sent you? The Liberators? Is that who you’re working for?”
“What? Get off me!” She pushed futilely against his chest and tried not to reinjure his arm. Oh dear God! He was probably hallucinating from the morphine. Maybe she shouldn’t have given him so many without knowing his medical history. Maybe she shouldn’t have agreed to this ridiculous arrangement in the first place. This was bad.
“Flint, it’s me, Dr. Kendra Shaw,” she answered, trying to get him to focus. From her medical training, she knew people who were hallucinating or on drugs could be very dangerous. “Don’t you remember what happened? You were shot and I fixed you up. Your brother Jesse was here. Don’t you remember riding up here on your bike with Jesse and Tom?”
Flint’s green eyes glittered dangerously. He shook his head as if he didn’t believe her. “You’re lying,” he said, tightening his grip on her wrist, which he held above her head.
“Flint! Listen to me. You’re going to hurt yourself. And me. Let me go.” She stared back into his eyes, willing him to snap out of it. She couldn’t ignore the feeling of his hard muscles suddenly pressed against her breasts. She saw the uncertainty flicker in his eyes. She ought to do something to stop him, she told herself frantically.
Kendra’s hands settled on his chest and instead of pushing against him, she grew conscious of the thudding beat of his heart beneath her fingers. She realized hers was probably racing just as fast. A tremor slid down her spine. She stared up at him with wide eyes, speared by the sudden burning gleam in his gaze. What she saw there unnerved her and yet still she couldn’t pull away.
Damn! What the hell was wrong with her? One look into those damn green eyes and he made her feel weak with a lo
nging that both shamed and excited her. Why was this man getting to her? Even as his head began to descend slowly on hers, Kendra made no move to protest.
“I don’t care who you are,” he added huskily, right before his mouth swooped down and crushed hers.
Flint’s kiss hit her like a tidal wave. The taste of his lips gave her a mad rush so intense that for a second she forgot how to breathe. Without hesitation, she slid her open palms down his back, feeling the strong muscles underneath her fingers. She knew this was so wrong. Touching him, feeling his skin beneath her hands. But for one brief moment in her life, she wanted to simply feel without thinking about the consequences.
Just one time.
What possible harm could come from that?
Kendra’s eyes fluttered closed and she made the biggest mistake yet; she parted her lips for his probing tongue. She heard his throaty growl of pleasure as her tongue clashed with his and sensed how his muscled body hardened in response against her ample softness. She responded back with a fiery heat of her own, knowing he probably wouldn’t remember any of it in the morning.
This hot, sexy man wanted her.
The instant the thought registered in her mind, he abruptly broke the kiss and rolled off her. Kendra stared blankly at him, her mind still muddled by the kiss and her reaction to it.
He sat up and winced in pain. “Jesus Christ! Why didn’t you stop me?” He rubbed a hand through his black hair. “For a moment there I was confused. I thought...I don’t know what the hell I thought. Shit! My arm hurts like a son of a bitch. Where’s my bike? And my crew? I need to get back to the clubhouse.” He tried to stand up and swayed unsteadily on his feet.
Kendra scurried off the couch and slid an arm around his waist. “Hang on, buddy. Sit back down before you fall and hurt yourself.”
He brushed her hand off him. “Where’s Jesse? I need to go.”
“Jesse is fine,” Kendra replied. “He left earlier this afternoon with the rest of the guys. Everybody is okay. You were the only one who was hurt. Now, sit back down. Please.” She guided him back to the couch and pulled the blanket up around his bare chest.
Flint searched her face as if he was trying to put the pieces all together. “Are you a doctor?” he asked.
“Sort of,” she answered. “I’m a veterinarian. I own the Shaw Vet Clinic and the Shaw Wildlife Center in town.”
His forehead creased in a sudden scowl. “I don’t understand. Why are you here? Are you somebody’s old lady?”
She laughed out loud at the absurdity of the question, knowing he wasn’t insulting her age but merely asking if she belonged to one of the other club members. “Old lady? Are you nuts?” She waved her hand down her full-figured body. “Do I strike you as the type of woman who would be some motorcycle guy’s old lady? That would be a quick way to throw eight years of college down the drain.”
After looking her over from head to toe, Flint frowned and shook his head. “No.”
“Well, that’s good, I guess,” she said. “You had me worried there for a minute. Here’s what happened while you were out cold.”
Kendra quickly gave him a brief rundown of how Tom had lured her there under false pretenses. “You were injured pretty badly. So I’m your nurse for the weekend,” she finished. “Whether you like it or not.”
“I don’t need a fucking nurse,” Flint muttered before leaning back against the sofa cushions and closing his eyes.
Kendra sighed. Flint was hot and sexy as hell, but he was clearly going to be a royal pain in the ass. “I can see that, tough guy. Now, swallow these damn pain meds and go back to sleep so I can get some rest.”
He didn’t answer since he was already dead to the world again.
“The things I do for animals,” she muttered, shaking her head at the fine mess she was in.
Chapter Four
Flint opened his eyes and tried to focus. Shit! Why did he hurt all over like a fucking linebacker had thrown him against a brick wall? He pushed himself upright and breathed deeply to fight back the waves of nausea rolling over him.
He tried to recall the previous day’s events, but his memory was a little fuzzy. The crew had ridden over to a neighboring county to discuss setting up a buy with a distributor for a huge shipment of alcohol. Shelby County, where the MC was based, remained one of the few two hundred or so dry counties in the entire United States.
Local politicians refused to approve beer, wine, or liquor licenses to any business inside the county limits. This opened up a golden opportunity for groups like the MC to become modern day bootleggers and make tons of cash - if they were willing to break the law in the process. The MC considered the rewards to be worth the risk.
Over the years, they had grown the business and now kept a steady supply of customers stocked with their favorite alcoholic beverage. The customers never questioned it or even seemed to mind paying the fifty percent mark up. Considering the cost of gas and the fifty mile round trip to the nearest liquor store, the citizens of Shelby County were getting quite a deal. Or so the MC crew members always told them.
Flint’s arm throbbed. The last thing he remembered clearly was riding alongside Rocco as the group cruised two-by-two back through the valley. Gunshots had come out of nowhere, with the loud booms reverberating off the sides of the mountains. Then a searing white-hot pain had exploded in his upper left arm, tearing through the muscle.
Instinctively, they’d all sped up and kept riding, knowing to stop meant certain death. Flint hadn’t let on to the others that he was hurt until they’d made it safely through to the other side of the valley.
Flint remembered pulling over and arguing with Jesse on the side of the road. Jesse wanted to take him to the hospital. Flint knew that not only would the emergency room personnel be required to report the shooting, but there was a chance whoever was after them would show up at the hospital as well. The last thing the MC needed was to be involved in a shootout in a public building where innocent people could be caught in the crossfire.
For once in his life, Jesse had listened to him. Instead of taking him to the hospital, he had called in a big favor and secured the safe house instead.
Everything was a blur after they’d arrived at the cabin. Flint didn’t remember stowing his bike away or even walking inside. Not being able to recall the previous night’s events made him uneasy. He didn’t like feeling vulnerable.
He glanced around the small room for his leather jacket, which held his cell phone and his gun. It was missing, along with his shirt. After taking another deep breath, he stood up and waited a moment for the dizziness to pass.
Holding on to the furniture for support, he made his way carefully across the room toward the kitchen. He figured there had to be a phone somewhere in the cabin that he could use to call Jesse and find out what was going on. When he reached the doorway to the kitchen, he stopped in confusion.
“Who are you?” he asked, staring in shock at the full-figured curvy woman in tight jeans and an even tighter white sweater peeking into the refrigerator.
Kendra whirled around and rolled her eyes. “Oh no! Don’t tell me we’re going to go through this again? Oh my God!” She threw up her hands in frustration. “I can’t believe I got myself into this mess! Jeez, you’d think I gave you a date rape drug or something the way you’re acting.” She put her hands on her hips. “Just so you know, we’ve been through all this once already in the middle of the night. Here’s the short version this time. I’m Kendra, your nurse for the weekend. Period. The end. Now stop asking the same old questions and wasting my time.” She turned back to the refrigerator and started moving containers around to see what was on the back shelf.
When he didn’t move, she glanced back over her shoulder. “And sit down! If you fall, I’m not sure I can pick you up. I can carry a small calf, but a full-size man, dead weight and passed out on the floor might be another story.”
Flint didn’t argue and instead sank down into a chair at the kitchen table. Littl
e by little, bits and pieces of the previous day’s events were starting to come back to him. He reached up and winced in pain when he touched the thick white bandage covering his wound. Through the thick fog in his brain, he vaguely remembered Kendra being at the cabin the night before. “You patched me up?” he asked.
“Yep! Didn’t want to,” Kendra said. She walked over and pulled out a chair to sit beside him. “I was persuaded by your brother, Jesse. Personally, I thought you should’ve gone to the emergency room. Cleaning up a bullet wound is not something I do every day.” She put her elbows on the table and leaned closer to peek at the bandage. “Is there any way I can convince you to go see a doctor this morning? Maybe an urgent care facility would be willing to double check your stitches. It would make me feel a whole lot better if you would. My work will probably leave a big old nasty scar.”
Flint leaned back in his chair. “I can’t do that.”
“No surprise there,” Kendra muttered. “Thought it couldn’t hurt to ask.” She let out a tired breath and stood back up. “Do you want some coffee, Flint? The cabin doesn’t have any creamer so it has to be black.”
Flint nodded and gave her a small smile. “Thanks. The stronger, the better.”
Kendra poured him a steaming cup and placed it in front of him. He watched as she moved around the kitchen, gathering ingredients. Then she cracked a few eggs into a bowl and starting beating them. “Don’t worry, the eggs are still good,” she explained as if he might be worried she would feed him rotten eggs. “I couldn’t find much to work with in the pantry except for a block of cheese and a jar of mushrooms for an omelette. Do you feel up to eating a few bites? Pain medicine can make you feel pretty crappy on an empty stomach.” She chatted on nervously while she dumped the mushrooms and chunks of cheese into the eggs.
It suddenly occurred to Flint that she might be afraid of him. He wondered how Jesse had convinced her into staying the night. His brother wasn’t past using strong-arm tactics to get what he wanted or needed.