by Olivia Rigal
"Yeah. He's at Bunny's house in Point Lookout. Before he passed out, he asked us to take him to her. He said no one would come look for him there."
"So, someone's looking for him?" Prince states matter-of-factly.
"Yeah, not the cops but ..." I can see Earplugs is uncomfortable telling us more.
"Listen, kid," Prince snarls. " We can't go in there blind. If you want our help we need intel."
While I finish putting my boots on, Earplugs shifts his weight from one foot to the other and comes to a decision. "Let's go," he says. "It's safe enough that I left Bunny alone with him, but you can sure come along."
I grab my bag and we follow him out.
"You've heard of the Bikers dream?" he asks. Prince nods energetically. "Well, we found the lab where they make it and torched it."
Prince lets out an impressed whistle. Takes balls to torch an opponent’s base of operation. "Cool move."
"What kind of drug is it?" It's probably not relevant to the condition Bunny's father is in, but now I'm curious.
"The sort that fucks with your head and makes you believe you can fly," Prince tells me as we walk to our rides. "They've been feeding it to the underground racers all over Florida and the body count is scary."
We start our bikes and that puts an end to our conversation. I know enough for now.
Earplugs takes the lead and turns in the direction of Point Lookout. As we ride, my mind races ahead to Bunny.
I've missed her so fucking much. I feel her getting closer. It’s only a few miles between Defiance and Point Lookout, but my craving for her grows by the minute. I can't understand why I waited all this time to go to her. I should have gone and grabbed her the very day I came back.
Now that I'm going to see her, I want her badly. She's like an addictive drug I wouldn't wanna give up.
Of course, I have competition now. Well, too bad for Everest. He'll be out of the picture tonight. The woman needs to know there's no such thing as a free lunch. I'll make it clear that my help comes with a price.
She wants it.
Hell no, she needs it.
She'll get it and be mine again.
Yeah, that will be the deal, and if memory serves me right, coming in my bed will be no hardship for her.
I want her back and nothing will stand in my way.
Nothing at all.
11
Bunny
The minutes tick away and I pray Earplugs has found Doc. They should be riding back. The clock says he's been gone less than forty-five minutes, but it feels like hours.
My father is still pale and his breathing is a bit less labored. Unless I've grown used to the sound of it. My arms are sore, but I keep pressure on the wound. I want to rest my forehead on my hands. I'm so tired, I almost fall asleep.
Moving to the edge of my seat, I adopt the most uncomfortable position I can to stay awake. Why didn't I ask Earplugs to get Birdy first? Because I didn't think. Because it would have been a bad idea. Birdy can't deal with the sight of blood.
Several times my heart races as I hear the roar of engines, but each time it's a false alarm. The engines roar and pass by, the sounds quickly fade away. Has there always been so much traffic on my street?
Finally the distinctive sound of the Harley engines come to die by my door. I hear low voices. The garage door opens and closes. There's a reason why my father likes Earplugs; he thinks. Not such a common occurrence with most bikers.
The door that leads from the garage to the kitchen opens and I hear Daniel's voice. "Over there."
My heart races. It beats so strongly, it's like a bird trying to fly from its cage. It's my father, it's Doc, it's the baby, it's the job I hate ... my life is in shambles and there's nothing I can do but watch it fall apart.
"Holy fuck!"
Even though I have my back to the door, I'm guessing Doc is having the same reaction I had looking at the towels on the floor. Before I have a chance to say anything, Earplugs explains once more, "It's not his blood."
Doc is now inches from me. So close I can feel his heat. He's always been warm blooded. I look up to him, and he ignores me. First, he stares at my father, and then he finally acknowledge my presence.
Not in a good way.
"Scram!"
He punctuates his order with a shooing motion . I want to protest, but I bite my tongue. Now is not the time to argue with him. I stand without letting go of my father. In a second, a powerful hand comes to replace mine on the towel. The hand belongs to Prince. He nods at me and says, "Your heard the man. Go wait in the other room."
I move away slowly and Doc still doesn't look at me. He's busy opening the very large bag he's put on my chair.
"Door!" Prince barks.
So much for watching from the living room.
Earplugs gently takes me by the arm and softly closes the door behind me.
"Come on, Bunny." He leads me to my rocking chair. I gratefully plop myself down and wrap my arms around my belly. I'm cold. I'm tired. I'm grumpy. I feel useless and stupid.
I need to do something. If I don't, I'm going to go crazy.
Earplugs’s stomach grumbles and inspires me. I should cook.
"Hungry?" I ask.
Earplugs shakes his head and grins. "That loud?"
"Yeah, but it's a good thing. Let me feed you. I'll make soup. I have some chicken. That's perfect, I'll make broth and maybe Daddy will be able to have some when he wakes up..." I'm rambling, but I don't care and Earplugs doesn't seem to mind. The promise of food brought an ear to ear smile on his face.
Most men are easy that way.
He opens the kitchen door for me. I get bread, mustard, and cold cuts. He takes those while I pull out carrots, onions and the whole chicken I had planned to roast tomorrow.
While I grab for my grandmother’s largest pot and fill it with water, Earplugs prepares a huge sandwich. By the time I find the cutting board and meat cleaver, he's gulped it down and peeling the carrots.
Who knew he was so domestic? I chop the chicken into small pieces and toss them into the pot as I go along.
"Now I know not to get on your bad side when you're armed with a knife." Prince stands by the kitchen door. His tone is mocking, but judging by the look on Daniel's face, I must have looked fearsome as I let all my rage and frustration out on the poor bird.
"How is he?" I ask.
"Doc says he's gonna be okay." Earplug and I let out a deep sigh of relief. "He wants to talk to you."
"Dad? He's awake?"
"Nah, Doc."
"Oh," I'm disappointed. I was so hoping Dad would come around. But I should know better than to be overly optimistic. "Sure, let me wash my hands and I'll be right over."
While I move to the sink, my father's favorite prospect takes over. "Don't worry, I've got this."
Prince waits and walks me to my bedroom. His hand on the handle and staring at the bulge at my mid-section. "It's his, isn't it?" he whispers.
For a second I hesitate. Can I make believe I don't understand what he's asking about? Nope, his gaze is too serious for that. So instead of lying, I nod.
"And he doesn't know?"
I shake my head. Incredibly my answer seems to make him happy. I think it's the first time I see a smile illuminate his face.
"Then it's gonna all be good."
I wish I could share his optimism.
I want to ask him why he feels this way, but he doesn't leave me time. He opens the door and pushes me in.
The room is dim. The only light comes from the bathroom door left ajar. In the penumbra, I can hardly see my father's features. The noise of the water running covers the sound of his breathing.
"Gimme a minute." Dad doesn't react to the sound of Doc's voice calling out from the bathroom.
The same doesn't hold true for me.
There's always been something about Doc's voice. It's deep and velvety, so smooth, it made me swoon. Tonight I still feel the shiver but somehow, it's not the same.
&
nbsp; 12
Doc
I take twice as much time as I need to wash my hand and then again to dry them. Being in Bunny's bathroom is both heaven and hell. The room smells like her. I want to bury my face in the bathrobe hanging on the door. I don't. The robe won't cut it. I want to breathe in the smell of her skin when I kiss her neck. I want to inhale her fragrance as I nip her skin and dig my fingers in her hair.
Slowly I find my way to the door and return to her bedroom. The light is at my back and that's perfect. Bunny can't see my expression as I observe her.
She deserves to be kept on edge. She didn't wait for me. And fuck it, if I'm unfair. The green demon of jealousy has been shredding my guts for weeks.
Bunny stands by the bed, gently caressing her father's cheek. There's so much tenderness in her gesture, it makes me sad.
What sort of a bastard am I to resent even the affection she has for her dad? A possessive one.
"He'll need to lay low for a few days," I declare. My tone is all business. "But he's gonna be fine."
She turns toward me and whispers, "Thank you, Doc."
A few steps and she's right in front of me, she stands on her toes and puts her lips to my cheek. "Thank you so much ..."
That brotherly kiss is sweet, but it's like a slap in the face. I don't take crumbs. The gesture infuriates me. I want more, so much more.
If she thinks that's how she's going to pay her debt, she's sadly mistaken. I reach out and pull her against me, a tug on her hair and her mouth is right under mine. I pull a little harder and her lips open with a moan. The very sound of it hits me full blast. Who cares if it's pain or pleasure? I don't. The only thing that matters is that she's in my arms again and her soft body is molded against mine.
My hands explore the familiar territory. I love that it's curvier than before. Her breasts are fuller and that fills me with joy. As I touch her, smothered sounds escape from her mouth.
She's always been loud but not today.
My Bunny's holding back.
She doesn't know that her father is so loaded with sedative, I could probably fuck her standing against the bed, make her scream and he wouldn't stir.
"Oh, Bunny," I whisper in her ear pressing her against the wall. The swell of her belly is not an illusion and there is no mistaking its origin.
I don't care.
She's mine no matter what.
I'll take her, even full with another man’s child.
As soon as she begins to kiss me back, I let go of her mouth. She makes a little sound, like a protest as I pull away and move her head until her face rests on my chest. We both catch our breath and in the distance I hear the roar of two bikes rolling away. A silent thanks goes to Prince. He's convinced the annoying kid to leave with him.
I break the silence. "We need to talk."
Bunny stiffens and tries to pull away.
I hold her back. "Not here. Out there."
I point toward the next room and holding her hand, make her leave her father's bedside. There's nothing she can do for him now.
As soon as the door opens, I'm distracted by a fabulous smell of food. I'm starving. Now that I think of it, I remember Raven's beer was my dinner.
"Did you eat?" I ask her.
She shakes her head, "I forgot."
"In your condition, that's unreasonable." My answer comes out harsher than I want and she tries to pull away again.
I hold fast and she looks up to me.
"Why should you care?" Her expression is puzzled and sad. So sad, watching it hurts.
"Because from now on you're mine."
Fuck, now that sounds like a threat and that's not how I wanted it to come out.
"What do you mean?" Her confusion is real.
"There's a price to pay for saving your father."
"And what would that be?" Sadness is turning into defiance.
"You." Her mouth opens in a perfect little O. "You're the price. From now on, you're mine."
All my determination came out with those words. There will be no discussion. She's mine. Period.
Her disbelief is written all over her face as she points an accusing finger at me.
"You, you, you ..." she can't find her words and shakes her head. "Of all the arrogant bastards I've known ..." She stops and takes a deep breath. "You think you can disappear and then ..."
That's when she loses it.
She's laughing hysterically and sobbing at the same time.
First she pushes me away, and then her fists close on my tee shirt. She holds on to me for dear life and shakes her head.
She's not making much sense, but I won't hold that against her. It's probably the aftershock of her father's injury, that and the hormones.
Whatever it is, she's given herself up to the maelstrom of emotions raging through her and is drowning in the whirlpool.
I pick her up and notice another door which goes to the living room. I push it open. It leads to a smaller bedroom with bunk beds. I frown and then remember it was her grandma's house. Looks like at some point the woman had her grandchildren for sleepovers.
I lay Bunny on one of the lower bunks and sit next to her. She keeps on rambling incoherently for a bit and when she finally calms down, she only has one question.
"Why?"
Uncertain of what she's asking, I caress her face and hush her. "Get some sleep, sweetheart, we'll talk when you're rested."
She nods gravely and closes her eyes. Soon enough her breathing is regular. When I'm sure she's asleep, I stand and take the patchwork quilt from the upper bunk to cover her.
Leaving the door open, I make my way to the kitchen. By the stove there's a note: "Sandwich in the fridge. Don't forget the broth."
I take a bite from the sandwich and lift the lid from the pot. There's enough liquid to let it simmer for another hour. I lower the heat and look in on my patient. The man is lucky. It could have been a lot worse.
After checking on Bunny, I explore the rest of the house. The garage is an incredible mess. It looks like three generations of clutter has accumulated. Old wooden toys sit on shelves next to first generation video games which probably don't work anymore. Florida humidity will have them moldy and rusted away.
The washer and dryer stacked by the door remind me of the pile of bloody towels. Just in case anyone should come over, I start a load of laundry and go heavy on the bleach.
Once that's done, I retreat to the living room. Browsing through the book shelves, I find old photo albums. Finishing my sandwich at the table, I get acquainted with Bunny's family.
There's her childhood pictures with a younger version of Brains. He hasn't changed much. His hair line has receded and what's left went from jet black to salt and pepper. Still, he's in great shape for a man of his age. And Bunny, well Bunny's the spitting image of her grandma.
I'm not surprised the woman left her the house. That grand kid of hers is her ticket to immortality. It's as if she's cloned herself in her eldest granddaughter.
That's when I realize I didn't ask Bunny what gender the baby was. I hope it's a girl. It will be easier with a girl. I'm afraid if it's a boy, I'll be annoyed with him when I see the resemblance to the birth father.
I shrug away my worry. That's stupid.
I should know better. When it comes to nature versus nurture, nurture always wins.
13
Bunny
The sound of two men talking wakes me. I'm disoriented. Why am I not in my bed?
And then I remember.
I sit up and listen to the voices arguing.
The conversation is all hushed, but there's no mistaking the anger in both men's voices. As I tiptoe to the door, I identify the voices.
Everest and Doc are having a verbal show-down.
Hidden in the room, I stop and debate with myself. Eavesdropping sounds a lot more fun than confronting them.
"There's no discussion. From now on, I'll take care of her." Doc is adamant.
"Do you hear me protesting?"
The sarcasm in Everest's voice is subtle. You need to know him to realize it's there. My guess is, it's flying over Doc's head.
"So you're fine with my taking charge?" Incredulity tints his tone.
"If it's fine with Bunny, it's fine with me." Now Everest is dead serious.
"You're shitting me?" Doc sounds outraged. Interesting. It doesn't make any sense.
Why would Doc want Everest to argue with him? The only explanation is he's under the impression I'm back with Everest? If he's seen us around town, it wouldn't be an absurd assumption. That and the fact Doc most likely caught Everest coming in the front door with his own key to my house.
"Nah, I mean it. Bunny's her own woman."
That's one thing Everest has always been good about. Respecting women. He's bossy in bed, a master in his dungeon, but when it comes to everyday life, there's infinite respect for those he cares about. Men and women alike.
"What kind of a bastard are you?" Doc growls.
I'm about to open the door and put an end to this absurd discussion when Everest has a light bulb moment.
"Oh, fuck! You think I'm the father!"
There's a few seconds of silence and then Doc asks, almost civil, "You're not?"
"Uh uh." I imagine Everest's shaking his head, and am sorry I can't be a fly on the wall. I would so love to see Doc's face right this instant. He always prides himself to be a fair person. The guy who gives everyone a chance. Up to now, it was everyone but Everest.
"Shit, I'm sorry man," Doc says. "You know, I thought ..."
Everest laughs. "I get it, but no. Not mine."
"So whose is it?"
Even though I'd bet good money that Everest's answer is going to be something like "Why don't you ask her?" I won't take the chance of him spilling the beans. I push the door open noisily and observe those two alpha males as they turn to face me.
They are both magnificent specimen of their gender. Doc is way shorter than Everest, less bulky, but that's mainly where the difference ends. They are both protective, decent, caring humans, and I do love them both.