I was a selfish son of a bitch, there’s no denying it, but it was for the best. I did what I had to do—I did it for her. Claire really deserved the best of everything—a life I just couldn’t give her.
I know I broke her trust and her heart that day. Jesus, my own heart shattered all around me and pierced my already damaged soul. As much as it pained me to do it, I had no choice but to turn away from the one person who kept my heart beating—my reason for living, before I destroyed her beautiful soul too.
She’ll always be with me, even if she doesn’t know it. I sure as hell made sure a part of her, no matter how small stayed with me forever. It was the least I could do.
My hand falls and presses against my chest, to the left, just where the last words she spoke to me are etched permanently onto my skin:
‘If you allowed love to save you, you’d live forever…’
It’s a little reminder of what we had, a unique connection which we shared, and for her to really live I needed to let her go. It’s a painful reminder that I was too selfish and stupid not to give her love a chance to save me.
I didn’t realise back then, but that’s exactly what I needed—and now it’s too late to go back and change it.
I stop and think about what could happen if I travelled back up to Manchester. To the place where I grew up and holds nothing but mainly bad memories for me. Would Claire still be there? I don’t think so. It’s been sixteen years and hopefully she’s happy and settled with someone who can give her the world—exactly what I promised to give her a lifetime ago.
I know I failed her, just like I failed my mum—and myself.
“Shit!”
I throw the rifle back down with much more force than I intended as the anger consumes me once again, only this time I’m not alone. What the hell is happening to me? My guards down, one that I’ve protected only too well and now my uncontrollable emotions are taking over.
“Sergeant, is everything alright in here?”
I look up instantly at the sound of his deep, cold voice and my eyes lock onto my squadron sergeant standing before me and he looks majorly pissed.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Way to go Hunter…
About The Author
S.M Phillips is a fun loving mummy of two from Manchester. When she’s not busy writing, you’ll most likely find her head buried deep inside her kindle with a cup of coffee in hand. Talk to her when she’s reading and things could get pretty colourful, pretty fast. Just ask her Hubby.
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Chopper
Broken Deeds MC #4.5
by
Esther E. Schmidt
Blurb
Some scars run deeper than healed wounds on the body. Memories can be a tricky thing; they can be special or traumatic, especially when you have no control over the trigger. When they hit, they can hit hard.
When Chopper ends up in the ER, the memories start and the only thing that soothes his pain is a woman from his past that holds special meaning. Ivy fights for her patients, but when her teenage crush lands in her ER she is forced to handle her scalpel in a whole different way.
Life is a constant struggle and it can be difficult to realize that one tiny moment in time can be just the change you need. Nothing is more difficult than fighting an inner battle, one that has branded scars into pieces of your soul. Will Chopper allow Ivy into his fight? Or will he continue to face his battles alone?
Chapter 01
***Chopper***
“Stop fucking touching me,” I bellow at the top of my lungs but it’s no use.
I need to get out of here, and yet I damn well know I can’t because they have to stitch me back up. I fucking hate hospitals. Hence the reason Lochlan is holding me down. I am determined to throw everything to the wind and crawl out of here if needed. Screw stitches. I always take them out myself anyway, so I can put them in just as easy.
“Can you nurses maybe find a doc who can knock him out? Would make your job easier because he’s not going to cooperate,” Lochlan grunts.
The nurse that was poking me scurries out of the room and I turn my fury on my brother. “You need to get me the fuck out of here.”
“Chopper, you know I can’t, man. Your leg has all kinds of lacerations. As soon as a doc has seen you and tells me there isn’t any permanent damage, then I’ll carry you out myself if I have to…you know I’d do it again.” He adds that fucking last part to remind me he always has my back.
I don’t need the fucking reminder. Lying here brings it all back. I’m sweating like a pig, out of breath, and nauseous as fuck. None of that has to do with the injuries I have except for the scars called memories that flare up in my head. I hate it. Hate feeling weak, like a lesser person with a truckload of damage that I’ll never shake.
“I’m not the guy I was back then, asshole. These injuries I have now don’t even compare. This shit is minor, my legs were fucking shattered when you had to carry me to get me the help I needed. We were so far off the…fuck.” I close my eyes and try to contain the string of curses that wants to burst out of my mouth. “Why in the hell am I talking about this? Get me the fuck out of here.”
“Ah, I hear we have a grumpy customer. Let’s see if we can patch him up and push him out. Nora, can you give me a hand in a bit?” Great. Another damn nurse. And if you ask me, they dragged this one straight off a horse she was riding in the middle of Texas. Or so the thick accent tells me. And I damn well know because I grew up there. I can’t see what she looks like because Lochlan is still holding me down.
“Ivy? When the hell did you start working here?” Lochlan quips and finally lets go of me.
“Jesus, Lochlan, is that you? You got big.” The woman chuckles but I couldn’t care less, because I’m outta here and this is my fucking chance.
“Not so fast, asshole,” Lochlan grunts when he pushes me back on the bed.
“Mind telling me what’s wrong with the runner I have on my hands? Is he a buddy of yours?” the woman Lochlan called Ivy says.
And then I fucking see dark green hair, like a fucking emerald. Thick, dark, shiny, pulled back in a tight braid. Damn stunning, and with that it makes her the biggest fucking gem I’ve ever seen in my life. Her eyes are on my leg. They’ve cut open my jeans to see the injury from when I crashed my bike. I already had the rundown with the nurses and X-rays and shit. Nothing broken, just lacerations. Or so they’ve told me but it seems like another doctor needs to double-check.
When she connects her gaze with mine, I notice her bright gray eyes. Fuck. They’re like the sky when it’s threatening to rain. A dark rim around her iris emphasizes the gray. Those eyes. I know them…they look familiar but for the life of me, I can’t remember shit.
“Who the fuck are you?” I growl because she’s hot and it pisses me off. I want out of here, in my own damn bed, and I want to know who the hell she is.
“Can it, idiot. This is Arthur’s twin sister, Ivy. Don’t you remember?” Lochlan growls at me.
Arthur’s twin
? Fuck. Ivy. That’s why I recognized her eyes. “You were bald the last time I saw you…about ten years ago.”
Yeah, that’s the first thing I tell her because that’s how I remember the last time I saw her. Maybe it was because she didn’t have hair, or the fact that I thought it might be the last time I saw her, that I indefinitely branded her exquisite eyes into my memory. She’s the one woman who made quite an impression on me, even if she was Arthur’s sister and therefore off-limits, she still ruled every wet dream I had since then.
Who am I kidding…even when I was seventeen and Arthur and Ivy were sixteen, I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. She was a stunner even then, and she was considered one of the guys because Arthur kept everyone at arm’s length when it came to his twin sister. We all signed up for our first tour and I didn’t see her for years. Not until I ran into her at the funeral where she was bald. Holy hell. Ten fucking years and what a world of difference.
“Yeah, the good ol’days. Less fuss in the morning, that’s for sure.” Ivy blows a puff of air up so a strand of that amazing dark green hair that escaped her braid falls away from her face. “Now keep still because I’m gonna take a look.”
It’s not that I listen to her, I’m simply frozen to the bed because my mind flashes back to her brother, Arthur, the reason why I saw her ten years ago…at his funeral. He’s one of three we lost. “What the fuck, woman? Why don’t you stick your head in there for a better view instead of just your fingers, huh?”
“I’m glad your mouth still works perfectly.” Ivy chuckles. “Doesn’t look too bad. I’ll fix you up and have you on your way soon…what’s your name, again? Because the information I had was all,”
“None of your damn business,” I snap, although I feel shitty about doing so.
“Dammit, Chopper. Can you at least try to talk normal instead of ripping her head off? Ivy is only doing her job.” Lochlan hits me with a disapproving look.
Why the fuck is he taking her side? I already felt shitty for snapping because I don’t easily trust people and fucking hate hospitals. I was kinda opening up to letting her stitch me back up because I know her, might still have the hots for her, but fuck…I’m the one in pain and want to get the hell out of here while she’s poking the shit out of me instead of fixing my leg so I can leave. And not to mention I’m fucking annoyed by the fact that she doesn’t remember my fucking name or who I am.
I reach out and grab Lochlan’s cut before I growl, “Why don’t you go fuck her in the corner so I can sneak out of here. Show her some kindness and appreciation for the both of us.”
Lochlan looks like I just punched him one in the face before he tells me in utter exasperation. “She’s got no pussy, or tits, man.”
Ivy chuckles.
What the hell? Why is he throwing the ‘she’s got no pussy, or tits’ statement out there? What are we? Teenagers? We’re grownups for fuck’s sake, and we haven’t seen each other in years, drifted a-fucking-part. “The way that white coat is stretching her front tells me there’s some sinful pillow action hiding behind it,” I growl at Lochlan before I lunge up and wrap my fingers around her throat. “Stop. Fucking. Touching. Me.”
Her hand is gripping my wrist and she’s leaning into my face, giving me some of her weight. Those bright gray, stormy eyes are locked on mine. “I’m going to touch you whether you like it or not. Now if you just suck in your personality for a few more minutes, then I’ll be able to get my work done so you can let Lochlan get you the hell out of here. Deal?”
The sweet smell of jasmine wrapped with…pineapple? “Did you shove some pineapple down your throat before you,”
“Came to take care of your sorry ass? Yes. I had a slice of pineapple a moment ago. I kinda earned a little sweetness after my ten-hour shift. Like I said, calm down and let me take care of you so we can both get the hell out of here, because I need to get some sleep.” Those gray orbs are mesmerizing, the dark ring around them seems to flare up when she’s agitated. As if she’s reaching out and smacking me on the back of my head to prove what an asshole I’m being in this moment.
“Fine,” I snap and regretfully let go of her delicate neck because I could feel her pulse pick up underneath my touch from our banter.
Chapter 02
***Ivy***
I should have left over an hour ago. Dammit, why is Tuck always late or a no-show when he has to take over my shift? He should have been here already so he would have been the one to deal with this idiot. And I hate the fact that I’m reminded by Arthur’s military buddies. It brings up so many hurtful memories. Arthur…my twin brother. My other half, the one I lost, still makes pain slice through my chest, even after all these years.
My patient wasn’t lying when he said I was bald the last time he saw me. When Arthur signed up for his second tour, I shaved my head as a show of support. Or maybe I was just insane and it was easier going through med school not having to deal with my thick hair, with the long shifts and keeping it wrapped up to do my job.
Shit. I’m having a hard time focusing as it is because I remember this guy very vividly. He was the first one who made me aware of my own body when I was a teenager. Not that we ever did anything, because Arthur made it very clear to his friends that I was off-limits and just ‘one of the guys.’ But when I saw Chopper again at the funeral? Weeks after he was still on my mind. So much that I went out and bought my first vibrator. Okay, those thoughts need to leave my brain because like I said…focus on the job at hand.
“Nora, can you grab me a new set of gloves and then check why Tuck isn’t here yet?” I stand up and throw my gloves in the trash. The idiot made me grab his wrist when he wrapped his fingers around my neck.
Though fear wasn’t flowing through my veins. It was the thought of how huge his hand was and how strong his grip felt perfectly wrapped around my neck. Ugh. See? I need to get home and enjoy a long hot shower with my waterproof vibrator, have some food, and relax on my balcony while I sip on a nice cold beer.
Right when I’ve got a new pair of gloves on, the door swings open and a guy in a suit is standing in the doorway. Nora tries to pass but the guy holds his hand up, showing his badge. He talks softly and hands Nora some papers. Ignoring this, I get busy with sticking a needle with a sedative in Mr. Annoying so I can sew his leg back together.
It’s nothing major, he was very lucky. Yet I saw his old scars and the X-rays of his legs and recognized the damage he has. Well, it’s fixed but the bones show an old injury that’s similar to an impact from a great height where bones shatter…jumpers.
Arthur was a SEAL. All of them go through a series of jump progressions, and seeing these guys worked together for years…a team…yeah. Needless to say, something went bad for this one. I mean, I can read it in his eyes. The bright bluish-green that flares when he speaks. He doesn’t like hospitals and one look at his x-rays explains why.
Focus. Work, then get the hell out of here and suck in a week of relaxation. That’s right, I’ve got seven days of nonstop doing nothing other than enjoying some peace and quiet. That is unless the hospital calls because that jerk Tuck is failing and the other ER doctors are packed.
I’m halfway with closing a wound when an idiot comes to stand next to me. “Ma’am, I need you to sign this first.”
Is this guy for real? “And I need you to get the hell out of my space. Anything gets handled through administration or can be handled when I’m not standing over an open wound. Move you idiot, can’t you see I’m busy trying to help this patient?”
The guy whose leg I’m talking about chuckles.
“You misheard me, ma’am. I need for you to sign this first. This patient of yours is a top security matter that demands a special kind of disclosure. If you don’t sign right this second, I will have to take other actions,” the suit says with a firm voice.
Since everything seemed to get screwed up the second I stepped foot inside this room, I snap off my gloves and smack the guy in the chest with a flat hand. Either he’s
caught off guard, or I’ve put every inch of strength into that one single push, making him stumble back.
“Go. Away. This patient is my first, and only, priority and you’re endangering his health,” I snap and step around him to grab my third pair of gloves.
“Drop the gloves, ma’am. I need for you to come with me. There are legal matters to settle first,” the suit says.
I’m getting so annoyed in this moment that I might have reached my point of insanity. I’ve finally got my gloves on and snatch up the scalpel and point it in his direction. “You misheard me, asshole. I’m not leaving my patient, as I’ve said…this man here is my first, and only, priority. Legal matters or not, it can wait till I’ve closed every wound. See the scalpel in my hand? Not only did I make a vow, but I know how to handle this flawlessly.”
The suit drops his papers and is now pointing a gun at me. Clearly the asswipe thinks I’ve lost my mind.
“Cool it, Stanley. She’s an ol’lady.” I risk a glance at the guy who said that. The one who’s lying on the bed with his leg open and his eyes closed.
When I lock my gaze with Lochlan, I see his reaction matches mine. Surprise. Shock. There’s only one woman in this room and she’s most definitely not an ol’lady. She’s the one holding a scalpel…me. I’ve never dated, never had a boyfriend, never had sex, so most definitely never been, am, or will be, an ol’lady.
“Stand down, Stanley. You heard Chopper. Put that gun away and let this ol’lady do her job,” a guy with a leather cut and inked up forearms tells Stanley from the doorway.
Stanley only gives a tight nod before he tucks away his gun and takes his papers with him while he scurries out of the room.
The guy with the inked-up forearms closes the door and steps toward the bed. His leather cut says President. Awesome. This just keeps getting better. I know Lochlan is with an MC. He told me so at my brother’s funeral, explaining how they would always be there for me if I needed anything. I never called though. I’m not one to reach out. I can take care of myself, always have, always will.
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