by Dez Burke
His eyes flickered for a moment then closed again. “Flint! Open your eyes,” she coaxed. Suddenly, his eyes opened and she stared into the greenest eyes she’d ever seen; tantalizingly deep and penetrating. She hesitated for a moment, completely caught off guard. “That’s it. Now open your mouth. I’m going to give you some pills and then I want you to swallow a couple sips of water.”
Beads of sweat popped out on his forehead and slid down his face as he fought against the pain to stay conscious. “Someone get me a cold rag!” she yelled. The men scattered, eager to do something to help.
Kendra placed her hand behind his neck and propped him up a little. Flint opened his mouth wide enough for her to place the pills on his tongue. She held the glass to his lips and encouraged him to drink. “Don’t choke. Make sure you swallow all three pills. Trust me, you’ll be glad for it later.”
Flint opened his eyes again for a split second, making contact with hers for an instant before sagging heavily against her.
“He’s out again,” Kendra said. “I need to scrub my hands and put on a pair of gloves. Then I’ll need a couple of you guys to hold him down in case he comes to again while I’m working on him. Let’s do this as fast as we can while he’s unconscious. It will be much easier on him that way.”
She worked quickly to clean the wound and remove the bullet. He was lucky. The injury was bad, but it could have been so much worse, even lethal if the bullet had landed just a few inches lower. Flint twitched and jerked in pain while she worked, but he didn’t regain consciousness. Once the wound was cleaned to her satisfaction, she deftly stitched him up with the supplies from her bag. After bandaging his arm, she walked into the kitchen to throw away her gloves and wash her hands.
Jesse followed behind her. “Someone needs to make sure he gets the painkillers every three hours,” she instructed him. “Don’t wait for the pain to hit him first. You have to stay ahead of it. Also, if at all possible try to get him to eat a few bites of something so the painkillers don’t make him sick. Give me your phone number and I’ll call to check on him in the morning. Obviously you already have my number.”
Jesse tucked his hands into his pockets before speaking. “Dr. Shaw, we have another problem,” he said. “While you were working on Flint, Tom got a call from one of our other club members in town. The Liberators hit us in two places at once. They threw a Molotov cocktail through the window of my younger brother’s tattoo parlor. Luckily, nobody was hurt. The authorities are there now asking a lot of questions that Sam doesn’t know how to answer. We need to get back to town to take care of it before things escalate further.” He let out a long breath. “We all have to go. Now.”
Kendra stared at him in shock then threw up her hands in disbelief. “You’re all going to go and leave him here by himself? What if he gets sick and throws up or goes into shock? He’s unconscious! Someone needs to stay here to look after him. I don’t think you understand how serious his injury is.”
“I was really hoping you might be able to do that. You know, just stay here for the night and take care of him. You would know what to do if something went wrong. And with your expertise, you could take much better care of him than we could anyway.”
Kendra’s mouth opened then closed. Was he insane? What the hell was he thinking? That she would be willing to drop everything and hang out overnight in a secluded cabin with a criminal she didn’t know? Yeah right, like that would happen in a million years. If they wanted someone to look after him, they could call one of their groupies.
Kendra was already shaking her head. “Look, this is not my problem and definitely not my responsibility. I did what you asked because it was an emergency situation. I fixed his wound and stitched him up. Any other person in their right mind would’ve called both 911 and the cops. You’re asking way too much from me.”
She glanced over at Tom, who was sitting silently at the kitchen table. “I know I owe you for rescuing that dog and bringing him in, but come on. This is crazy. You’ve crossed so far over the line here already. I’m not kidding when I say I could very well lose my license if someone found out about this.”
Jesse nodded gravely as she spoke. “I know what we’re asking. We all do. That’s why I’m willing to make it worth your while. Have you heard of the charity ride the Steel Infidels always put on in the spring?”
Kendra shrugged. “Not really, but go ahead.” Personally, she’d always wondered if motorcycle gang charity drives were scams. Or at the very least if the gangs were skimming most of the donations off the top. She’d bet good money they were.
“Our club’s bylaws allow us to choose any charity we want to donate the funds to,” Jesse explained. “Basically it’s a goodwill gesture on our part for the community. So I have a proposition for you. What if we agreed to donate the money from the ride this year to the Shaw Wildlife Center in exchange for your help?”
“Seriously?” Kendra answered, suddenly much more interested. “How much money do you usually raise on a charity drive?”
“Twenty thousand minimum. Think of how far that would go in your center. Last year we wrote a check to the children’s burn unit for twenty-three thousand dollars.”
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 when he wasn’t looking so strained with worry. Though he was not nearly as devilishly good-looking as his injured brother. Not by a long shot. Of course, Jesse was also a good ten years older.
“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 longing 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 ha
nd 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.