by Amber Burns
I didn’t make it into the waiting room before a familiar voice called to me.
“Now, Boyfriend. I know I told you I didn’t want to see you again.” I turned to see the dark skinned nurse that had seen to me the last time I was here. I struggled with her name, and her full lips turned up in a smirk, “Latisha.”
I snorted and mirrored her expression, “I have a tendency to find trouble. Usually, it doesn’t scrape me up as bad.”
“No kidding,” she pulled on a glove and without giving me any sort of warning she was cleaning the blood from the side of my head, worrying about me like a mother hen. “Boy, you ain’t kidding. Here I told Dylan to call you up for a good time I didn’t know you were a trouble maker. Please tell me you didn’t get my friend into trouble.”
“I don’t want to get your friend into trouble,” I snipped back to her. “And I’ll have you know I showed her a real good time. Is she here tonight?”
“You think she gets a day off?”
“She isn’t the one that patched me up,” I argued because for some reason I expected her to see to me.
“Aw, boyfriend,” she let off of being defensive. “Look at you. You’re all hurt she wasn’t there to nurse you back to health. Aw,” she leaned in and pressed her lips to my cheek. “I like it. Your feelings are hurt, it’s so sweet. You’re lucky I’m taken. Otherwise, I’d be dipping into the vanilla. If you can stay out of trouble, you have my blessing.”
I’d never been called sweet. I looked at the woman like she lost her mind. She only patted my shoulder and took the cloth she used to clean me up to a trash can.
“She might’ve been on her lunch, taking a nap in the on-call room,” she gave me a shrug. “Her shift won’t end until seven am.” She cocked out a hip as she went back to eyeing me. “So, if you were thinking about picking her up for a nice day you’re going to have to wait for a few hours.”
“I’ll remember that,” I heaved a sigh. “Do you know anything on the guy I came in with?”
She only shrugged at me, “Baby I didn’t see when you came in. I just got the chance to stop for a breather. If I see Dylan though I’ll point her in the direction of the waiting room, okay?”
At that promise, I felt at ease, “I appreciate it.”
“I hope the next time I see you, boyfriend, it’s to pick her up and not get fixed up,” she went back to her cart and was traipsing down the corridor that made up the ER for the non-serious patients.
I found my way into the waiting room and looked for Wilson. He was seated in a chair next to the coffee maker and looked as if he had dozed off. A glance at the clock informed me it was a quarter to four.
“You can’t hack the long hours?” I poked at him as I say.
He grunted in response and shifted in his seat, “They didn’t teach you pups to dodge bullets?”
“I did better than the sailor.”
“Van Cleave will heal,” he commented lightly, rubbing his wrinkled face. “The hardest part will be not being able to ride around on his bike. So, we’re likely to hear him bitching and complaining.”
“I think taking a bullet earns him the right to bitch a little,” I stretched out and tried to get comfortable, my attention on the few people that stayed in the waiting room. We were seated by the coffeemaker, but with the vibe that Wilson put off, it had him seated alone. Save for me. “Still, got the consequences from tonight to consider, though. How is this going to go over and how long do you think it will take for them to connect it to us so they can retaliate?”
“First we have to find out if our patch was seen, much less identified.”
“The guys that intercepted us recognized us,” I told him. “They could have contacted their club to report in.”
“The chances of them having the same kind of mentality we do is slim,” I didn’t like that he was brushing off my concern and I started to frown at him.
“What do you know? They could have military guys in their group, cops even. How did you recruit me? Are you stalking every guy that gets out and offering them a patch?” I sat up so I could get a better look at his expression. “Do you think that every guy that gets out is on the up and up? One of the fuckers that shot at us had good enough aim to get two hits in my middle. I know he got at least one in the vest Van Cleave was wearing before he got him in the collar. He could be ex-military. He didn’t bat an eye at pulling the trigger.”
“You’re right,” he snapped back. His voice was hard, and his brows were drawn down low over his eyes. “I ain’t arguing with you. The difference between them and us? We know what caution is. Pulling you two fuckers over should have been done with caution. If they had been smart, they would have shot you in the backs. If they were about protecting their territory instead of swinging their dicks, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”
I stood slowly, glaring down now at the older man. “This is the second time I’ve gotten hurt doing something for you. I’ve never questioned you and done everything you asked. Are you trying to get me fucking killed?”
“Tell me how that would do anything for me?” He raised his hands, palms up. “I don’t want you or Van Cleave dead. That achieves no ends for the club or me. If anything it would put me in the hole of two good, young men that are able to take a punch and deliver a harder one in return.”
He remained seated as he spoke to me, I had never doubted Wilson’s motives for bringing me into the club. I had understood the moment I agreed to be in the club what I was there to do. I had been grateful at the time for a place to expel my rage, but here I was questioning whether or not the man before me would willing send me out to my death without batting an eye.
“You understood the danger you were walking into, he made sure to warn you with the knowledge of what this group was. If they aren’t shy about breaking the arm of an old man, why be shy about shooting two other bikers in the back? You were right when you said this would start a war between them and us. You issued a challenge and when you laid waste to those two men that challenge was trumped in blood. You knew what you were walking into, you knew it from the start.”
He was right. I knew it. Would this have bothered me before? Why did it bother me now?
“Um,” our conversation was interrupted by a new voice. I hadn’t realized how heated we had gotten that I hadn’t noticed another person approaching. I turned to see Dylan, of all people, standing not far from us. “Jeremiah,” she grimaced a little looking down at Wilson. “I’m sorry to interrupt you. But Letisha said you were out here, and you had been hurt again. I wanted to check on you?”
She phrased it like a question, and her eyes were round when they finally met mine. I hadn’t even considered correcting her with what she called me. There was a relief in seeing her after all this, maybe it was because how tired I was that I felt this way. I stepped closer to her and lowered my voice for some sense of privacy.
“I’m okay.” I took in her appearance, her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her scrubs looked wrinkled. She looked as tired as I felt, but I was still drawn to her like a moth to a flame. I was sure if I were wrapped around her and drowning in her sense all the stress I felt right this second would melt away. “I just got the thought in my head that you’d be the one to take care of me.”
One side of her mouth pulled up, and she shrugged at me, “Sorry. I just got lucky the first time.”
Her choice of words went right through me, and I couldn’t help the smirk.
“I could make you lucky again.” I had to touch her, my fingers closed around her chin and tilted her head up. I was close enough to kiss her and found myself leaning down to do that. “If you want to come to my place after work?”
She looked hesitant, pulling away and even taking a step back.
“You were shot at,” the concern was evident in her voice. “First you were stabbed, and now you were shot. What the hell are you doing?”
She was getting worked up. Here I was trying to be romantic, sho
wing her I was happy to see her, and I was failing. I was far too tired to offer her an explanation or deal with fire I saw in her gaze.
“Come over,” I was sure after some sleep I could wipe away her fears. “I'll explain everything. It'll be fine, I promise.”
Her gaze was skeptical, I could tell that much. Her dark brows were drawn down, and she frowned at me.
“Mister Edward Van Cleave is doing well. We're going to keep him overnight to be safe. He'll need someone to pick him up tomorrow afternoon.”
“I'll get that taken care of,” Wilson stood and approached us. “Honey,” he said to Dylan then looked to me. “I'll go get the car. You finish up if you need to.”
He walked away from us as if he weren't showing this girl the patches on his cut and exposing her to what I was.
“You're in a motorcycle gang?” Her voice took on a higher pitch, though she didn't quite shriek at me. “Oh my God,” she stepped away from me, her hand going to her face. “How could I have been so blind to it?”
“Wait,” this was snowballing now. I had no control over this, and I could feel it boiling in my gut. “Wait!” She had begun to back away from me, and I was desperate to keep her with me. I latched onto her shoulders despite the tick of pain from mine. “Stop,” I said shortly. “It's not what you think.”
How many cliches would I have to spit out to get her to stay here and listen to me? Had Wilson sabotaged me on purpose? I was going to have to rip that fucker a new one.
“How much more obvious can it get?”
I flailed as I let go of her shoulders and waved my arms out in desperation.
“Give me the chance to explain! Don't immediately jump to the worse possible scenario until you know all the details!” I paused a beat, struggling with why I couldn't just let her go. I didn't want to let her run off and assume the worst in me. “Meet me when you get off work, and I will tell you everything,” I meant it. I was willing to explain all that I was to this woman. “Please,” that word was a show of just how desperate I was.
She looked shaken, and for a second I thought I had scared her off. “I’ll come over after work. You should probably go home and rest. You look like a wreck.”
I couldn’t argue.
I watched her head back through the double doors, where they saw patients. I had a sinking feeling in my gut. I had no idea what I’d tell her when she got finished working her shift, but I couldn’t lie. I turned to walk out, aching with every step. I got into the waiting SUV, Wilson was behind the wheel, and he looked as tired as I felt.
“That why you suddenly have concerns?”
“What?” I settled into the front seat with a wince.
“When I first patched you in and named you Enforcer you never cared,” he pulled out of the parking lot and started in route to what I hoped was my apartment. “Never batted an eye at getting bruised or cut up in a confrontation. Now, suddenly, you’re worried at the prospect of war. That girl why?” I looked away from him, not able to fathom where this conversation would go. “Can’t deny what I saw,” he grunted. “It was bound to happen, I suppose. You’re young, and I’d never really call you stupid.”
“The fuck are you talking about?” I looked at him, trying to figure out what he was getting at.
“When have nothing to lose you’re careless and not afraid to face death, you don’t give a shit about what might happen between point a to point b,” he didn’t look at me, just kept driving. “You’re more concerned about the rush you get from violence and close calls. When I sent you to take care of Billings, you didn’t bat an eye. After that shit changed. Now, suddenly you’re concerned about starting a war instead of clearing the way, as you should be. I expected you to be eager to face danger, shit’s changed. Why? The girl? Did you get your dick wet and now you’re stuck in it?”
“You’re saying you don’t give a shit about sending me out to die?”
“Do you think Uncle Sam cared or cares now about what happens to us, grunt? As far as they’re concerned, we were cannon fodder, and you know that otherwise you woulda been a lifer unless you ended up like Redding.”
I snorted and rolled my eyes. How someone like Redding managed through the Army and a war with his laid back attitude was still hard to swallow. But, I got his meaning. I’d been prepared to be sent home in a box, I hadn’t cared then.
The old man continued, “You telling me you really care about starting a war with a rival club?”
“It’s going to make shit dangerous.”
“Danger suddenly concerns you?”
“Fine,” I snapped at him. “I suddenly have something I want. I found someone that makes this shit,” I gestured ahead at nothing. “Seem less trivial. Yea, I got my dick wet, and I wanted more. You mean to tell me with you fucking the bitch at the bar for how long and you’re surprised that I get hung up?”
He shrugged his shoulders, “I hadn’t considered it. When I found you at the titty bar, I thought you were either gay or some shit.”
“No,” I growled. “Coked out bitches don’t do it for me.”
He came to a halt in front of my house. “I see that. We have shit to settle, some things to work out tomorrow. Come to the club at lunch. I’ll be sure the bitch at the bar feeds you. You call her a bitch, and she’ll spit in your food.”
“We got people with sniper training?”
“Probably, sniper training might be something they put everyone through nowadays,” he started rubbing the gnarled scruff on his face.
“We could stop this before it starts, we have the skills and the manpower. Do ourselves a favor, and everyone in that area from what Tony was telling me.” I shifted to get out. “Take them all out, and it won’t be an issue.”
He grunted, “If we kill them all how would that make us any different from them?”
“We’d be alive,” I said in response as I slid out of the car and made my way inside.
As soon as the door closed exhaustion hit. I don’t even remember getting into my bed before I passed out.
15
I slept like the dead, I didn’t hear the tapping on the door. But when my phone started to ring I snatched it up and growled at whoever interrupted my sleep.
“Fuck off.”
“You told me to come over,” a voice snapped back at me.
It was enough to wake me up, hearing her voice in my ear.
“I was asleep,” I sat up in bed. “Sorry.”
“Go back to sleep then, I’ll go home and go to bed.”
“No,” I was up and heading towards the door. I opened the door and motioned her in, “I don’t want to put off seeing you.”
She stepped in and watched me with a wary expression on her face, “I'm not looking for trouble. This has been fun, really, but I can't get into that-”
I didn't give her the chance to finish her thought, complete whatever sentence was on her tongue. I interrupted her by catching her mouth with mine, it had been the kiss I had wanted when I saw her hours before in the waiting room. I felt a rush of sweet relief, and I pressed her back against the door. She didn't fight me just relented to me, letting me tilt her head back so that I could have more access to her mouth. Kissing her wouldn’t be enough, even with the day catching me and the aches of my wounds protesting. I wanted more. I shoved her pants down, driven as the want turned into need. I released her mouth to taste the line of her jaw.
“I can’t get into trouble,” she gasped it out. “I can’t be… caught up in anything illegal.”
“You won’t,” I assured her, palming the curve of her ass as soon as it was exposed and forced her pants down further.
“But you,” I pressed my fingers between her thighs from behind, dipping a digit into her. Her breath caught as I shifted my grip on her to further tease her entrance. “You’re getting hurt,” one of her hands skated over my shoulder. “What happens if you get--”
“Stop,” I gritted out. “What ifs don't lead to anywhere. Worry about the here and now. Worry a
bout getting what you want.” I had my free hand between us so that I could get my cock out of the underwear I was wearing. “This,” I managed to get her up high enough that I was between her thighs and positioned right at her entrance. “This is what I want,” I arched up and thrust into her.