Prince

by Kathryn Thomas

  Ari fought dirty. He grabbed Jim’s hair and yanked his head back so he could swing at Jim’s nose. Jim turned his head, taking the blow to the back of his jaw instead, and grabbed Ari by his jacket, lifted his torso, and slammed his head against the floor. Ari raised a knee, getting Jim right where the road burn still stung and ached, and Jim grunted in pain.

  But he wasn’t done, and with a growl, he sat up to straddle Ari, pounding on his face. Ari took several punches before he managed to get his legs up and his feet locked over Jim’s shoulders. He rolled so Jim’s back hit the floor, his legs bent and out of commission momentarily. It knocked the wind out of Jim and gave Ari a chance to get up, but as soon as Ari was on his feet, Jim straightened out his legs and threw a kick that landed on Ari’s knee. He hit hard enough to take Ari down again.

  Jim rolled to his hands and knees with a growl and dove at Ari, but unseen hands on his arms pulled him back. “Let go of me!” he screamed. He lunged and kicked, but he was held too tightly to get away.

  “Enough, Wade.” Boxer’s voice in his ear brought Jim back to reality and cleared his vision. As he gazed down at Ari, he saw the damage he’d done. The man’s nose was broken and bleeding, and he would have a shiner the next day; his lip was swollen and cut, and as he sat up, he grabbed his head in pain and nearly fell over again.

  Boxer had one of Jim’s arms, and he turned to see Donnie holding the other. He shook them both off. “I’m fine. I’m done.” They let go but stayed close, and Jim brushed off his jacket. His adrenaline ebbed and sensation came back to his body. He hadn’t exactly come out smelling like roses. His jaw hurt and would bruise badly, and his leg injury throbbed so hard that it made him want to collapse. He took a seat on a still-standing barstool to save some dignity.

  Taking the weight off his leg made other parts of his body scream, and he stared at his hands in disgust. They were a mess of blood, and from the looks of his knuckles, it wasn’t all Ari’s blood. Tipper pushed a shot of something foul at him, and Jim took it. He felt the burn all the way down through his chest.

  Tipper laughed and hiccupped. “You feel better now?”

  Jim smiled, and it pulled at his sore jaw. He rubbed it and nodded. “Surprisingly, I feel much better.”

  There was a stir, and Jim saw three guys holding Ari, who apparently thought he was going to get a few more chances to smash Jim on the ground. “We’ve got to get your head checked, bro,” he heard Weasel tell him. Jim hadn’t even noticed the man come in.

  He motioned to Tipper for one more shot. This one didn’t go down any easier, but he certainly felt a little calmer as he reached for a cigarette in his pocket. He lit up and offered one to Boxer, who stared at him in amusement and took it. Jim scowled. “What?”

  Shaking his head, Boxer lit his smoke and grinned. “I’ve never had so much trouble pulling a guy your size off someone else. I can’t believe I had to get help. But I tried three times, and you weren’t going anywhere.”

  Everything was foggy in Jim’s mind, and he didn’t remember anyone touching him until he actually came off Ari. “It doesn’t take a genius to know the Diablos won’t stop hunting us until we pay a two-for-one price on Cortez. I have half a mind to point to Weasel as the gunman and hand him over.”

  “I wish it was that easy.” Boxer sat down on the empty stool beside him. “Maybe we should all split up and get out of town for a while.”

  “I’d be surprised if Cortez didn’t crawl up out of that grave and already get to Rechoncho and Sauza,” Jim scoffed. “It’s hard to kill that kind of evil. We’d never get out of town in time. I’m surprised they aren’t here yet.”

  Kentucky must have overheard them as he stepped up beside them. “I went to try to contain things. I was closing up the truck when Weasel went after Cortez, and I couldn’t catch up in time. I almost killed him in the back of the truck on the way home.”

  “Are you sure he’s the only one that saw you?” Jim asked.

  Kentucky nodded grimly. “Ari wanted to deliver the body with trumpets and flair. I told him we couldn’t do that if we wanted to make it home with the money and keep breathing. I’m sorry things went this way.”

  Jim shrugged. “Too late now. At least we shouldn’t expect the Devils here tonight. They won’t go asking questions until tomorrow when Cortez doesn’t check in. Right now, they’ll just think he’s shacked up with some whore he paid to stay the night.”

  But it was going to come down, and when it did, Jim had to make sure he didn’t have any connection to Susan that the Devils could find. They’d use her against him, and he didn’t know how he’d handle it if anything happened to her.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Susan hovered outside her father’s hospital room and tried to talk herself into going inside. She’d peered through the cracked door into the dark space to make sure he was alone. Part of her angered to find him by himself. Her selfish family should be spending every possible moment at his side. What if he died when no one was here? But he had to be alone if she was going to do this. She sure as hell wasn’t going to do it in front of her mother or Emma.

  After several deep breaths, she pushed the door open and walked inside. Her father was sleeping, but she could tell it was restless—his head rolled back and forth and his face scrunched tight. She stopped next to the bed and laid her hand on his arm between the monitors and IV feeds. He twitched but didn’t wake up, and she reached to brush her other hand over his head. He jumped, his eyes flying open, and he looked around like he didn’t know where he was. How much morphine were they giving him?

  She saw the moment he recognized her in the scowl on his face. “What are you doing here, Susan?” His voice was hoarse, either from screaming or lack of use. She couldn’t really tell the difference.

  “I came to see how you were feeling. I know it’s late, but it’s the only time I could make it by with work and school and everything.” It was hard for Susan to look at him. His hair had been gray for years, but it seemed to have thinned just since his arrival at the hospital. He was so thin and pale he reminded her of the cadavers she’d had to work on in her first biology class.

  He coughed and wheezed. “You know damn well how I am. Say your goodbyes and get out. I don’t want to hear you blame me for your troubles, and I don’t want to listen to your mother hound you about her problems. I don’t want to hear her tell you you’re inadequate, and I don’t want Emma looking down her nose at you because you didn’t marry a rich bastard who cheats on you like she did.”

  Well, that just about summed up what would happen if her other family members were here. “I’m not going to blame you for anything, Dad. I came to tell you I love you, and I want to close this gap between us.”

  He shook his head and looked away. “I screwed up, Susan. All you ever wanted was to be like me, and I disappointed you and set a bad example. And because I couldn’t just leave the practice quietly, because I had to make a big stir about and drag my family’s name through the dirt, you have to fight twice as hard as you would have anyway to get respect. I nearly ruined your life.”

  Susan gazed down at her hands, and she peered over at his. Her hands looked like her father’s had looked years ago, with long, slim, capable fingers. Now, her father’s knuckles were enlarged and knobby, and his fingers curled in odd ways. Arthritis, yes, but also just poor health. “I still want to be like you, Dad. I want to be as good a surgeon as you were. And I would rather fight my way through this and earn the respect I deserve than slide through on your name.” She twisted her fingers together, realizing the truth as she spoke it. “I think, in the long run, you did me a favor. I’ll be twice the doctor I would have been because of that fight.”

  He turned his head to stare at her, and she’d never seen such an open, honest, and vulnerable expression on his face before. “I only wanted the best for you girls. I’m sorry I screwed up. Your mother… she was always so neurotic, and I started taking a drink here and there to keep from getting too irritated.
But that only made it worse, and she hounded me more. I hid in the liquor, and it killed my career. It nearly killed a patient. And it could have killed all of you.”

  There were tears in his eyes, and Susan felt some on her own face as well. At least she seemed to have handled the rotten childhood better than her sister. “I don’t want an apology, Dad. I want you to fight. I want you to let me get tested and see if I can give you part of my liver.”

  He wrinkled his brow and shook his head. “This is karma, Susan. And you and I both know, as surgeons, that it won’t be enough. This thing had hold of me, and I’m fading fast. You have a whole life ahead of you. I want you to live it happily.”

  She sighed and swiped at her eyes. “I feel like I’ve missed out on the time I should have spent with you.”

  “That’s my biggest regret, honey. I haven’t been the staple in your life that you deserve. And I’m sorry. But I know you’ll find someone to give you the attention you should have.” He frowned. “Are you seeing anyone? I can’t remember you ever seeing anyone.”

  Susan hadn’t ever really dated. She’d been too focused on building a career she couldn’t even guarantee she’d be able to manage. She thought of Jim, and it brought a smile to her face. She realized the mistake as her father gave a ghost of a grin, too, and it was too late to take it back. “Who’s the lucky man?”

  For a split second, she wished her father was still drunk so he wouldn’t remember this conversation. But he was a dying man. What was wrong with embellishing a little to give him some satisfaction before he died? He’d never know the difference in the way her relationship with Jim worked. “His name is Jim,” she admitted. “He’s kind, with a great sense of humor. And he’s really good looking,” she added with a blush.

  The shell of a man in front of her chuckled, and it made him hack and cough again. Susan hated seeing him this way, but at least he sounded happy. “You say he’s kind. I guess he treats you well.”

  “Yes, he does.” Jim really was a good man, and even though theirs was nothing more than a sexual relationship built mostly on a mutual need to release stress, he had never treated her poorly. Even when they fought, he often backed down before she did. “He’s a tough guy, but he’s still tender with me.”

  “He sounds perfect.” Susan’s father reached for her hand and squeezed with what little strength he had. “Do you think you could bring him to me so I can meet him? I just want to thank him for taking care of you before it’s too late.”

  Susan panicked. She’d definitely exaggerated their relationship, and she didn’t want to tell Jim that. But how else could she get him in here to meet her father and know that he’d play along? She’d backed herself into a corner, and she swallowed hard. “I’ll try to get him up here. He has his own trucking business, so he’s not always in town, but I’ll do my best.” There, you covered your ass in case you’re too chicken or in case he walks away because you’re crazy.

  “Good. That’s good, honey.” Her father was starting to fall asleep again, and she got the impression he’d received a dose of his pain meds. “I love you, Susan. I’ll see you later.”

  She kissed his forehead as his eyelids fell. “I love you, too, Dad.” His face was much more peaceful now, and as Susan left, she hoped she’d had something to do with that peace. She loved her father, and this whole idea of meeting Jim was insane, but if she could help him leave this world a bit happier, she would do it.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  “This is awkward, Susan,” Jim complained as they walked hand in hand down the hospital corridor. The last time he’d seen her here, he’d taken her out to an ambulance and ridden her like a wild horse. This time, she’d insisted that, to meet her father, he wear his Steel Talons jacket and motorcycle boots with a handkerchief tied around his head. The only reason he’d gotten away with the ragged pair of jeans he wore was because he’d sworn on his own father’s grave that he didn’t own a pair of leather pants.

  Susan still hadn’t believed him. She’d searched his closet.

  Why he’d let her into his house he couldn’t fathom, and even worse, he didn’t know why he’d agreed to this little farce. He was on edge, worried about the club and the fight that was certainly on the horizon, and he hadn’t wanted to be away from the clubhouse. But she’d called after one in the morning and asked if he’d come with her, early. He’d told her she’d have to pick him up, and she’d been more than willing.

  “It’ll be fine,” she told him, but the sharpness in her voice told Jim she was nervous. “Look, the idea is to give my father his dying wish to see me dating someone. I appreciate you doing this more than you can imagine.” She stopped outside a cracked door and turned to look at him. She nodded in approval. “And I also appreciate you looking like a biker.”

  He gave her a withering look. “I am a biker.”

  She sighed. “I just… I don’t know if I want to shock my mother and sister, or if I want to show them how stupid they can be. I mean, Emma’s husband is a cheating, abusive son of a bitch who sits in an office and talks numbers all day. When they see that you’re so much more admirable than that, they’re going to shit their pants.”

  Jim couldn’t think of a time in his life when anyone had referred to him as “admirable,” and he stared down at Susan in wonder. She gazed back, her expression filled with confusion. Instead of answering her, he pulled her against him and kissed her, long and hard. When he pulled away, she stared at him with wide eyes, and he just stared into them. “Let’s do this.”

  She nodded and pushed the door open. Jim’s ears were instantly assaulted by the voices two women who obviously disagreed about something, though he couldn’t tell what, since they were speaking in shrill voices on top of each other. Susan stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled. It pierced Jim’s ears, but it stopped the bickering and drew three pairs of eyes in their direction.

  He instantly saw the family resemblance. While not nearly as petite, Susan had her mother’s curves and, if the man in the bed didn’t look like a vampire victim freshly drained of blood, her face would mirror his. The younger woman, presumably Susan’s sister, Emma, could have been Susan’s twin, though her face was rounder and she was short like her mother.

  He could feel Susan draw in a deep breath, her side pressed to his. “Jim, meet my family. Family, this is Jim.” She walked forward and drew Jim along. She pushed past her mother, who looked like she might faint any moment, to get next to her father and kiss his forehead. She smiled down at him. “How are you feeling this morning?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “I finally got some rest, until a few minutes ago.” He looked straight at Jim. “Hello, young man.”

  He held out a weathered hand, and Jim took it. “It’s nice to meet you, Dr. MacGregor.”

  He blew a raspberry. “It’s just Steve now. And the pleasure’s mine.” He made turning a motion with his hand. “You mind showing me the back of your jacket?”

  Jim wasn’t sure why, but he turned to show the talons tearing into the American flag. He caught sight of Susan’s mother’s expression and wanted to laugh at the thin line she’d pressed her lips into and the hatred that poured from her eyes. He heard Steve clear his throat and turned back around to see a broad grin on his emaciated face. “You know, back in my day, the leather wasn’t as nice, and the image wasn’t as well-embroidered. The Steel Talons. God, I wish I’d made the cut.” He had a far-off look in his eyes, and Jim glanced back and forth between him and Susan, curious. But Susan’s expression told him she had no idea what he was talking about, either.

  “I don’t think we need to cozy up about all this,” Susan’s mother said as she drew up to the other side of the bed beside her younger daughter, standing over her husband almost protectively.

  Steve rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Imogene. I’ve kept quiet long enough.” He turned back to Susan and Jim. “I prospected right out of high school, but I was young and dumb and didn’t make it. I’d still have the ‘prospect’ patch, i
f someone hadn’t burned it, along with the rest of my memories, years ago.”

  Jim was floored. He would never have figured the man for a biker, and his wife’s eyes flashed hot as the corners of her mouth turned down in an ugly expression.

  It was Emma who spoke to Jim next, her voice dripping with disgust. “How did you happen to meet my self-righteous sister?”

  He felt Susan tense beside him, and he rushed to answer before things went south. Turning on the charm, he said, “This beautiful woman saved my life. Well, actually, at first, she just saved my leg. I crashed my bike on a wet road. But in the ambulance I looked into her eyes, and I knew she was everything I wanted. I haven’t been able to let her go since.”

  Emma rolled her eyes. In a sing-song tone, she said, “She looked at him, and he looked at her, and they knew it was love.” She made a gagging sound. “I don’t believe in love at first sight. You probably just wanted to bang her, and now, you’ve developed a gratitude complex.”

  Jim couldn’t get words out before Susan spit venom. “Don’t project your issues onto me, Emma. I’m not the one who feels like she deserves to be mistreated.”

  Wrapping an arm around Susan’s shoulders, Jim drew her tighter against him. “I don’t think we should be fighting right now. I really wanted to meet all of you, even if you all have your differences. It was important to me to know the people who influenced such a tender, giving, selfless woman. And I also wanted to see where she got her looks.” He addressed Susan’s mother. “Now, it’s obvious you passed them on to both your girls.”

  The older woman flushed, but she puffed up as if offended. Emma rolled her eyes and huffed like a petulant child. “I’m going to the cafeteria to get some coffee. I’ll be back after you’re gone.”