Prince

by Kathryn Thomas

  How disappointing and sad. “Who taught you to hate clubs and riding?” he asked, keeping his voice down now.

  “Why does it matter?”

  He wasn’t going to push her, but he’d find out eventually. “I know it’s hard to imagine, Susan. I can’t really put it into words. But let me take you for a ride and show you. It’s the only way you’ll ever understand.”

  Susan’s eyes grew large, and she shook her head vigorously. “No way! I’m not getting on one of these.” She pointed at the motorcycles, backing away from them.

  But he smiled. “If I promise to keep it under the speed limit, will you please give me a chance to show you how it feels? I’m telling you, it’s the only way to understand. And if it’s too much for you, I’ll bring you right back and never ask you to ride again.”

  He saw her wavering, and it wouldn’t take much to push her over the edge. “Live a little, Susan. You’re a paramedic. You, of all people, should understand that life is short and precious. Let me give you an adventure you never thought you’d experience.”

  She glanced nervously back and forth between the bike and Jim, and he knew he had her. Her chest heaved with a deep breath, and she told him, “One short ride. That’s all.”

  Success. “You won’t regret it.” He pointed her toward the rack of goggles. “Pick a pair that fit and bring them up to the counter. I’ve got to write the check so I can ride off into the sunset with you on that ‘death machine.’” He laughed as she stuck her tongue out at him. With a spring in his step, he made his way over to pay for the customizations on his bike. This was going to be a wild ride.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Susan didn’t know what had come over her. She should have just said no, she wasn’t going to get on that thing. But something inside her had to know. She couldn’t explain it, and she couldn’t define her need. Something swept over her, aside from incredible fear, as she waited at the curb and Jim pulled the rumbling machine up beside her. Heart pounding, she shouted over the noise, “What now?”

  Jim smiled. “Put the goggles on, and throw your right leg over behind me.” She did as he instructed, feeling awkward. He leaned back and said over his shoulder, “Now, get settled, and wrap your arms tight around my waist. I don’t want you falling off the back.” He laughed, but Susan didn’t particularly find it funny as she pictured him doing a wheelie and dropping her on the pavement.

  She clutched at him for dear life, and strangely, this felt more intimate than when they had sex. She was pressed against his back, and unlike getting laid, she had to put complete trust in his ability to keep her safe. She didn’t like giving up control, especially to do something she had sworn she never would.

  To his credit, he didn’t push the accelerator, but easing them out to the exit, and when he turned onto the road, he drove just as gently. She doubted he rode this way on his own, but she was grateful he wasn’t trying to scare the shit out of her right away. He increased his speed gradually as they continued, and stray hairs blew out of her clip, flying around her face in the brisk wind that felt fresh on her face.

  He turned a corner, and the bike leaned. Susan nearly panicked as he leaned with it, and she had to lean with him. She was sure they were going to skid across the ground any second, crushing their legs beneath the heavy bike, but he righted it and sped down the street. Overwhelmed, Susan looked from side to side, noticing the buildings they passed streaking behind them. She’d never noticed how quickly the world went by in a car, and now, she wondered just how fast he drove. But it didn’t matter; he held steady, and she loosened her hold on his waist just a bit so air could flow between them and cool her.

  The sensation made her throw her head back, and for a moment, she didn’t seem to be connected to the ground. The machine that vibrated beneath her disappeared with the road, and the wind carried her body. She closed her eyes and imagined clouds floating beneath her, and it made her laugh out loud.

  The bike slowed, and she came back to earth. They were at a red light, and suddenly, she was terrified. What the hell am I thinking? This was so stupid. She could have been killed at any moment! And yet, a little voice at the back of her head reminded her that this was living. If she was always scared of the consequences of life, how could she really live?

  Despite her terror, Susan was almost disappointed as Jim pulled back into the dealership parking lot and stopped beside her car. Feeling awkward once again, she dismounted and pulled off her goggles, then reached to try to smooth the mess of hair that had come out of its clip. With a teasing grin, Jim reached up and tucked a stray strand behind her ear. “So, what do you think?”

  Susan didn’t want to say she’d truly enjoyed it, but she couldn’t lie. She nodded. “I think I get it now.”

  He stopped the engine so they didn’t have to shout and pulled off his sunglasses. “Do you?” His eyes twinkled.

  She shrugged. “As much as a non-biker can, I think. Yes.” Susan thought about inviting him over. Something about that ride had aroused her. But her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she scowled as she dug it out.

  As she stared at the text from Eric, the world spun, and she felt faint. She needed to sit down.

  Jim was off the bike and grabbing her. “What is it, Susan?”

  She shook her head. “I have to go.”

  He nodded, not even questioning her. “Are you okay to drive?”

  Not really. “I’ll be fine. I’ll call you later.”

  Jim hesitated as she went around to the driver’s side of her car. “I may or may not be available, but if I don’t answer, I’ll call you back as soon as I can. I might be on the road or out of town.”

  Susan gritted her teeth. “What you should be doing is taking care of your leg.”

  “Take care of yourself, Susan. I’m taking care of the leg, I promise.” He closed her door and waved, and Susan sat with the engine running while she watched him drive away.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  She hated how she never knew when he was going to be around, but right now, she didn’t have time to dwell on it. Eric’s text weighed on her mind. He’d said he needed to talk to her right away.

  Dialing his number, she waited for three rings before he picked up. “Hold on, Susan, I have to get somewhere that I can talk,” he answered, and she heard movement and hospital equipment in the background. She hadn’t meant for him to go all the way to the hospital; she’d just thought he’d make a couple of calls.

  “Why are you at the hospital?”

  He chuckled. “I had to sweet-talk a couple of people to get things rolling. They’ve been running behind on blood work or something, and no one had looked at the CT scan or x-rays yet.” There was a slam, and then it was quieter. “Okay, I’m outside. Damn, it’s hot today.”

  Susan rubbed her forehead. “I guess it is. So, what’s the word?” She held her breath.

  “Well, the first problem is that everything is overshadowed by the effects of alcoholism, so it’s hard to get a complete diagnosis. But they know for sure he’s got some cirrhosis of the liver from drinking. On top of that, they suspect the breathing problems and additional sepsis throughout his body are being caused by amyloidosis. They figure it’s in his lungs and liver, maybe his kidneys. They’re scheduling biopsies to get tissue samples later this afternoon.”

  Susan wasn’t familiar with the condition, but she knew it wasn’t a good thing. She’d look it up in her textbooks when she got home. Now, she asked, “Is that treatable?”

  He didn’t answer right away, and that made Susan sick to her stomach with fear. She may not get along with her parents, but the thought of them not being there…

  Finally, he said, “It depends on how advanced it is. I asked around, and it sounds like chemotherapy is the best option.”

  Susan closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the seat. Not good. “Alright, thanks, Eric.”

  “I’m going to hang around and see how quickly they get that biopsy scheduled. My wife
is picking up my son today, and he’s got soccer practice, so I’m good until about six. I’ll let you know what I hear.”

  “You don’t know how much I appreciate that.”

  “I know this is hard for you. If you want to swing by later or tomorrow, and you need a buffer, I’ll come along. And don’t worry about owing me anything. We’re good..”

  She’d do something for him, maybe get a gift card for his kid. “Thank you, Eric. It’s nice to have a friend I can count on.”

  He chuckled. “That’s me. Take care of yourself, okay? I’ll talk to you later.”

  Susan hung up and found herself stuck once again with nothing to do except wait and worry. She stared at the goggles she’d thrown in the passenger seat. If only she had a hobby or an obsession, she could throw herself into it. That was one area where Jim was superior – he had something to occupy him when he needed a distraction.

  She put the car in gear and pulled out of the parking lot. She would go home and try to get some schoolwork done. It would be difficult, but she’d do her best to make use of her time. Then, later, she might call Jim and see if he was still around. She didn’t get her hopes up, though. He had a whole group of friends around that took up a great deal of his time. Maybe, someday, she would, too.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Jim rode up to the front of the clubhouse, cocky and confident, ready to show the rest of the Talons his new ride. It was more powerful and better-customized than the one he’d wrecked, and he could just imagine the jealousy it would evoke in the rest of the crew. But as he shut off the engine, he felt the dark mood that hung over the place, and he went straight to Ari.

  He didn’t have to ask questions. Ari faced him, and Jim knew the answer. Eyes dancing beneath his bushy brows, Ari told him, “Sauza called. I’m taking you, Digger, Boxer, and Donnie with me tonight. Rechoncho, Sauza, and three of his goons want to meet on neutral territory at eight. I think they’re taking the deal.”

  It was a lie; if Ari really believed that, he wouldn’t be so excited. Jim pressed his lips into a thin line. “What if I’m not available?”

  “Horseshit.” Ari didn’t even look up, too busy packing a bag with what he considered essentials – water, cigars, and a hand gun.

  “I’m serious, Ari. I might have something important to take care of.” Jim crossed his arms.

  Ari straightened, his brows gathering over the bridge of his nose. “You’ve got nothing more important than this club, Wade.” He poked a finger into Jim’s chest. “I’ve taken care of you for more than half your life, boy, and you’ll show respect where it’s due. Tonight, you’re riding with me and the crew, and we’re taking care of business.”

  “Take your hands off me, Ari, or I’ll take them off for you.”

  “Don’t threaten me, Wade,” Ari growled. “I’m almost twice your age, but it doesn’t mean I’m any less dangerous.” He shoved Jim and turned to walk away. It took all of Jim’s self-control not to go after him.

  Instead, Jim stormed outside, lit a cigarette, and grabbed his phone. He punched in Susan’s number and cursed when he got voicemail.“Hey, Susan, I tried to get out of it, but I’ve got obligations tonight, and I probably won’t be available. If you get a chance in the next hour or so, call me. I’d like to know that you’re okay after… whatever happened earlier. I’ll try you one more time before I leave.”

  “Whipped!” Boxer called from a few feet away. Jim scowled at his friend, who ambled over. “I told you it was going to happen.”

  Jim shook his head. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  Boxer pointed to the phone. “You’re already letting that woman know when you can and can’t talk, checking in on her randomly, and worrying that you won’t hear from her before we go. You’re whipped, brother.”

  Not in the mood to be teased, Jim threw a punch at Boxer’s arm that left his friend rubbing the spot. “I’m not whipped. I ran into her at the shop when I picked up my new ride, and she almost collapsed over some message she got. I thought it might be appropriate to ask how she was. Not that any of it is your concern.”

  “You’re not going to be distracted while this shit goes down, are you? If you don’t hear back? We need you fully alert, bro.”

  “I’ll be fine, Boxer. Just make sure you’re packing.” Jim was going to grab his pistol, too. He didn’t intend to walk into a trap unprepared.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  The sound of knocking broke Susan’s concentration. Not that her mind had really been on the functionality of the pancreas—she’d been halfway dozing. She frowned; she wasn’t expecting company. She had chip bags and other junk strewn across the coffee table, so she hoped it wasn’t her mother deciding to just stop by in the hopes of embarrassing her. She peeked through the hole and blinked to be sure she wasn’t seeing things. She flung the door open. “What’s wrong, Eric?”

  He gave her a half-hearted smile. “Hello to you, too. Can I come in?”

  She moved aside. “Excuse the mess. I’ve been attempting to study, and it’s not going well.” She brushed several pieces of trash off the kitchen counter straight into the garbage. Nauseous again, she asked, “Why are you here, Eric? Is the news that bad?”

  He turned away. “It’s not really good, Susan.”

  She braced her hands on the counter in front of her and leaned on them. “Whatever it is, just tell me. I’d rather just know.”

  “Sit down.” Eric’s voice was authoritative, and Susan automatically did as he said. When he turned around, his face was lined, and it made him look old. “The amyloidosis is affecting multiple organs, but the liver is the worst because it was already compromised by cirrhosis. They could probably clear his lungs and kidneys with chemo, but the chemo would probably kill him because of his liver.”

  Susan stared at him, stunned. “Isn’t there anything else that can be done?” She’d read a little about the disease when she first got home. “What about a transplant? I read that, in advanced stages, they’ll perform a transplant.”

  Eric dropped into one of her rickety kitchen chairs. “Yeah, sometimes they can. But your father…” He trailed off.

  Susan nodded, her hopes shattering. “He’s not eligible because of the drinking.”

  “Right.” Eric sounded as disappointed as Susan felt. “Look, I’m sorry, Susan. I wish there was more I could do. But I don’t have the kind of pull or friends in high enough places to swing it. I wish I did.”

  “No, you’ve done everything you could, more than I expected. Thank you, Eric.” She hesitated. “What if someone in the family was a match? Could they use a piece of one of our livers?”

  He studied his hands. “Your, uh, your mother and your sister refuse to be tested.” He held up a hand, knowing she was about to blow a gasket. “It probably wouldn’t work anyway. It likely wouldn’t grow fast enough to make him a candidate for chemo, and there’s no guarantee the transplant wouldn’t fail. Or that the disease wouldn’t just spread to the new organ.”

  Susan leapt to her feet. “It doesn’t matter. It’s a chance. It could work. Right now, he’s just going to die.” She paced the floor and tugged at her hair. “I’ll get tested, see if I’m a match.”

  “Susan, stop.” Eric’s voice halted her, and she stared at him expectantly. He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Look—I’ve got to go. My wife’s bringing dinner home, and her and my son will be there within the hour. But you don’t need to put yourself through that. Your father doesn’t want the transplant anyway.”

  “What do you mean, he doesn’t want it?”

  “He told the doc he wouldn’t accept a donation.” Eric stood and came to stand in front of her. “He’s an angry old man who drinks too much and feels he has nothing left to live for. He’s full of guilt, and he thinks he deserves to die. My grandfather was the same way, and he just let the cancer take him.” He put his arms around Susan and drew her head to his shoulder. She didn’t hug him back, but she didn’t pull away either,
her body cold and his so warm. “The only thing I’ll say is don’t leave things between you unsaid. You’ll regret it. You need to go talk to your father, even if you have to throw the rest of your family out of the room.”

  He was right, but Susan wasn’t ready for that. “I’ll go. Not today, though.”

  He held her by the shoulders at arm’s length, locking eye with her. “Don’t wait too long, okay? He’s not going to fight it.”

  Susan nodded. She walked him to the door and let him out, and she locked it before she went to her bedroom and lay down to cry. There was only one comfort for her right now, and she could pretty much guarantee she wouldn’t be able to reach Jim. Still, she stretched her arm out and took her phone from the bedside table.

  She sniffled and frowned when she saw a missed call and listened to his message. Dammit! He’d called about an hour and a half ago. She dialed him back in a hurry. When she got his voicemail, she just hung up and cried harder.

  Angry at Jim, at herself, and mostly, at life, she screamed and threw her phone against the wall. She watched pieces hit the ground without caring. She was tired of being alone, and she knew she was wallowing in self-pity, but she didn’t care. She just wanted someone to comfort her. Even if he was a stranger, Jim did that—with his touch, and the way he looked at her when she touched him.

  But it didn’t matter. Susan wasn’t the top priority in Jim’s life, and she never would be. The Steel Talons would always be his main focus, and that didn’t leave much room for her. Of course, she didn’t want to be his ‘old lady’, but she wanted to feel special; she didn’t want to take a backseat to a group of men who would likely end up dead or in prison.

  It figured. She’d never been at the top of anyone’s list, and she didn’t expect to be. All she could do was hope that, somewhere along the way, while Jim was out doing whatever it was he did with his brothers on the road, he might at least think to call her back.