Doc: Devil’s Nightmare MC

by Bourne, Lena

  It’s been hours and the cops haven’t showed up yet. That must be Hawk’s doing, he did say he’d have us covered once we got Ink to the hospital. I admire the guy’s skill with computers, even if I understand next to nothing about what he actually does behind those screens. Despite his misgivings, I believe he can create a new life for Anne so we can have our forever.

  “You’re here with the man that was shot?” a middle aged doctor asks and I shoot up to my feet.

  “Yes,” I say, trying to read the news he has for me off his face, but it doesn’t give anything away.

  “I’m Dr. Brown,” he says, extending his hand. “Your colleague was lucky. We were able to fix all the internal damage, but he lost a lot of blood, so he’s not out of the woods yet. He’s critical, but stable now. We’re transferring him to the ICU. The nurse will take you there.”

  I didn’t notice the frail older woman standing behind him until he mentioned her.

  I thank him for all he’s done for Ink, then follow her down the hall and into the elevator.

  The map on Ink’s bloody chest led to a happy ending after all. This time. But I will never fail any of my brothers again.

  22

  Anne

  Getting back to the cabin was easier than leaving it. I didn’t get lost at all, and I hardly had to consult the GPS to find my way there. I think that’s because it’s become my true home during these last couple of weeks. Maybe it’s a little too romantic to think that way, but it feels like the truth. Even for this short time, this cabin has been more my home than any I’ve lived in during the last fifteen plus years since I left my childhood home in Sunnyvale.

  The sounds of the night follow me, as I walk from the car to the front door, the crescent moon giving off just enough light for me to see where I’m walking, but the stars twinkling all across the velvety blue sky more than make up for the lack of moonlight. I can’t wait to light a fire in the living room and snuggle up beside it. Or maybe I’ll just snuggle up in bed, watching the starry sky through the window instead. It’s a mild night, I don’t need a fire, and it wouldn’t be the same without Matt’s arms around me anyway. That holds true for the bed too, but I’ll make it work.

  I’m sure I locked the door when I left, but the key won’t turn and when I try the handle it gives way and the door opens. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe I didn’t lock up in my haste to get the meeting with Benji over with. I’d do that at home sometimes, when I went for one of my long daily walks. That’s probably what happened today too.

  But my stomach is clenched in sickening fear as I enter the cabin. It feels darker and emptier than it ever has before. My hands are trembling again and a very loud voice in my mind is screaming at me to turn around and run. But that’s just panic. The door being unlocked spooked me, since this is the middle of the woods after all. But there’s no real need to lock the door up here, because it’s in the middle of nowhere.

  Even thinking all that doesn’t erase the basic panic still gripping my stomach.

  I’m just about to turn on the light in the hallway when the one in the living room comes on by itself.

  I don’t even have enough time to panic over that before Benji stands up from the armchair by the fireplace and smiles at me. It’s the smile that looks more like a snarl. I know it well. And I’m so scared I don’t feel my body.

  “Did you think you could hide from me, Anne?” he asks. “And did you really think you could just threaten me and get away with it?”

  He opens his palm to show me something silver and small. It’s the flash drive that holds all the evidence I have against him.

  I only pause for the split second it takes me to realize that then bolt out the door, trying to reach the truck before he reaches me. I should’ve run the second I realized something was wrong, and I’m running as fast as I can now.

  But he’s faster.

  I scream as his fist in my hair yanks me back less than two feet from the truck, from my freedom. My scream wasn’t from pain, I hardly feel that, even though he yanked my hair hard enough to pull me to the ground. It’s from frustration and hurt. From losing the battle for my life. My scream echoes off into silence over the trees.

  “What’s the hurry, Anne?” he asks sweetly. “Let’s stay awhile. I like this place. It’s very romantic.”

  I glare at him, the hatred and anger I feel for him right now making it impossible to speak. But I’m no longer afraid. For the first time, since he showed me this monster inside him, I don’t feel fear. And that’s a victory in itself. Although that twisted look on his face tells me I should be afraid. Very afraid.

  He pulls me back towards the house by my hair. I clutch his wrist, digging my nails into it, because it does hurt now, so much that tears are streaming down my face on their own.

  “How sweet, you’re crying,” he says. “Haven’t seen that in awhile.”

  “You should leave now and never come back,” I say, finally finding my voice again. “Because when Matt finds out you hurt me again, there’ll be nowhere for you to hide anymore.”

  “Hurt you like this?” he asks mockingly and that’s all the warning I get before his fist connects with my cheek, the crunching, blinding pain telling me something broke.

  I see two of him when I try to glare at his face again.

  “That dirty biker boyfriend of yours won’t ever find you again,” he says savagely. “No one will ever find you.”

  He means to murder me and bury my body in these woods. He has it all figured out, has probably been planning it, since I ran away from him.

  “How did you find me here?” I ask once we’re inside and he slams the door behind us, blocking it with his body.

  Keep him talking. He loves to talk. Loves to spin tales about how smart, and resourceful, and generally perfect he is at everything he does.

  He chuckles, his eyes gleaming the way they always do when he’s about to tell me how clever he is. He’s let go of my hair, but he’s pointing a gun at my chest now.

  “I followed you two to the beach the other day, as I’m sure you already know. Or at least your boyfriend knew I would. You probably had no idea one way or another, dumb as you are,” he says. “He thinks he played me for a fool by staying there all day. And I admit it was hard watching the way he was all over you all day. So I didn’t stay. Instead I put a GPS tracker on his truck, so I could visit you two at a time that was more convenient.”

  “Why did you wait before coming here then?” I ask.

  My vision is returning to normal, and the throbbing in my cheek is lessening too. If I can just distract him long enough to reach that wooden totem pole decoration by the living room door and throw it at him, I could make a run for it again. Through the door in the kitchen and into the woods. Into the darkness. I’m sure I can escape him there.

  “I wanted to talk to you alone, and luckily your boyfriend obliged me in that too. He left town heading for Vegas. He’s probably meeting some more of his biker friends there, but don’t worry, I have men keeping tabs on him, and reporting back to me. He’s nowhere near here right now in case you’re hoping he’ll come and save you.”

  My heart stops beating as I listen to this. I didn’t realize just how much I’ve been hoping that Matt will barge in here at any moment now and save me. I hoped for it with all my heart though, and knowing it won’t happen makes me feel more hopeless than I’ve ever felt before. Even more hopeless than on the day they told me my brother won’t be coming home from the war.

  “Then you luckily also called and told me about all that evidence you have against me, so I decided to get that first, just in case our talk didn’t go well,” he says. “I have the flash drive now, and we can talk on the way.”

  “Where are you taking me?” I ask, thoroughly confused.

  “Home, of course,” he says. “And you will never leave the house again. At least not until I’m sure you’ll behave.”

  A grey-tinted vision of myself in our house back in Seattle fills my mind.
I don’t recognize the woman standing by the window in this vision, looking at the fog outside that’s just as thick as the one in her mind.

  “I’m not going back there with you,” I say.

  He chuckles coldly, and then he’s gripping my hair again, the barrel of his Colt pressed against my heart.

  “The alternative is, I shoot you here and now, and make sure that biker fling of yours gets life for killing you. Or since this is California, maybe I can even make it the death penalty for him. Though I prefer the idea of him having all the time in the world to contemplate the mistake he made crossing me.”

  The fog is engulfing me from all sides, but I refuse to let it in. I don’t care about my own life. That’s already over if I go back home with Benji. But at least if I go, only I will die and Matt will live.

  “What will it be, honey?” Benji asks.

  “Fine, I’ll go with you,” I whisper and my voice sounds as wispy as the mists already entering my mind again.

  “Good decision,” he says. “Now, let’s go pack your bag. I’m afraid I made a mess of your things looking for the flash drive, so you’ll have to tidy up first.”

  He follows me upstairs where he keeps the gun pointed at me the whole time while I’m packing. But he’s stupid, he always was stupid. Matt will never believe I just ran out on him. He’ll look for me and he’ll find me, and the fire of knowing that is keeping the worst of the fog from engulfing my brain.

  “Now for the note,” he says once we’re downstairs again. “You can’t just disappear without leaving a note. You write, I’ll dictate.”

  He rips the magnetic pad off the fridge door and tosses it on the table, telling me to get started. The fire inside me dies a little more with every word he dictates and I write. Will Matt see through this note? Will he see through the lies Benji is making me write?

  I wish I could sneak in a clue, but I know Benji will demand I fix it, if I change even a single word. I won’t risk Matt’s life like that.

  Only embers of the fire remain once I’m done with the note. But they’re enough.

  I have to survive this, so that one day I can escape again, find Matt and tell him everything in this note was a lie. Tell him I love him and want him by my side until we’re both old and grey. I have to live, and that means giving Benji exactly what he wants for now.

  * * *

  Doc

  Ink was released from ICU two days after getting shot, and I stayed close to the guys during that time, since they still had some loose ends to tie up with the Russians. But thankfully, I wasn’t needed a second time. Although from what I could gather, Cross opened some sort of can of worms with these Russians, and more of them could come down on us looking for revenge soon. That means we won’t have complete peace yet. But I guess I’ll worry about that when it happens.

  True to his word, Hawk made sure no cops came calling at the hospital for Ink, and he visited him a couple of times himself, thanking him for keeping his woman safe and taking three bullets so she could escape. This was news to me, but, for the first time in my life, I truly understand the gratitude Hawk showed Ink. If someone saved Anne the way Ink saved Hawk’s woman, I’d be in their debt for the rest of my life.

  She came to thank him in person today, and now her and Hawk are waiting for me downstairs, so we can return to Sanctuary together. Return to Anne, who hasn’t been returning my calls or texts, and whose phone has been off for the last 24 hours. I don’t know what that means, and I’m afraid to think too hard on it. Maybe she just forgot to charge her phone. Or maybe she has trouble using the phone, since it’s such an old model. Neither of those really explain all the missed calls she never returned, but I won’t panic until there’s a real reason to.

  “When do you think they’ll let me get outta here, Doc?” Ink asks.

  “What’s the hurry? You got lucky with the bullets, but you still got shot three times.”

  “Exactly. And it got me thinking. I gotta go find my own woman,” he says, and I don’t think he’s saying he has yet to meet her. I think he means to go after someone he left behind.

  “In that case, you’re gonna need all the strength you can get,” I say and laugh. “But seriously, I want you to stay in here for a couple more days, and then Ace is gonna bring you up to Sanctuary where I can keep an eye on you. No ladies until you’re healed, doctor’s orders.”

  Ink turns his head and looks out the window. I expected him to laugh at my little joke, but his face is hard and very serious. “You’re completely right, I’m gonna need all the strength I got for what I gotta do now.”

  Cryptic again, and just the absence of his usually poetic way of talking tells me whatever he wants to do will be hard to achieve. But I’m never one to pry. When and if he wants me to know what he’s talking about, he’ll tell me. That’s always been my policy with all the men and women in my life. No use pressuring someone to tell you more than they’re willing to.

  But I sure as fuck need to know why Anne’s not returning my calls. And I will pry until I get a straight answer out of her. If she’s entertaining notions of going back to her asshole husband then the first step in getting them out of her head is her admitting it.

  “I’ll see you at Sanctuary in a couple of days,” I tell Ink and leave.

  The ride back will hopefully only take a couple of hours, and I’ll tell Hawk to drop me off at the cabin. I don’t remember the last time I was this eager to get somewhere. Nor do I remember the last time I was this afraid that the thing I wanted the most won’t be there for me to find.

  23

  Doc

  The MC’s truck is parked outside the cabin, as is my bike, but the windows are all dark, even though it’s full dark by the time we reach my cabin.

  “I’m gonna need a couple of headshots of your lady to get her those new IDs and such,” Hawk tells me, while I’m exiting the car.

  “Yeah, I’ll get them to you,” I reply and slam the door shut, harder than I needed to, because I’m almost certain the new identity I promised Anne won’t be needed after all.

  Maybe she just got lost in the woods or something. And while that would be terrible enough, as far as reasons for her not answering my calls goes, the other one, the one I’m sure is the actual reason, is worse. But I won’t worry about it until I know.

  The house is cold and smells exactly like it does when I return to it after being gone for awhile. Empty and forgotten. She’s not here. She left me. And I don’t even need the proof of all her clothes being gone from the bedroom to know it.

  Why’d she go? She seemed so happy here with me.

  Seemed. Maybe that’s it, maybe she just seemed happy to me because that’s what I was. Happy, no, ecstatic that I finally found the woman I know I could spend the rest of my life with.

  The kitchen light gleams off the single piece of paper in the middle of the table, as I turn it on. Her goodbye note, I presume. I don’t want to read it. But I walk to the table and pick it up anyway. Maybe it contains an explanation. Not that I’ll be happy with any explanation. Anne’s mine, damn it.

  Matt,

  I’ve decided to go back home. I was wrong to leave Benji.

  I still love him and he loves me very much. We can make it work and I know he will change and be the perfect husband to me from now on. I’m sorry I didn’t call and tell you in person, but this way is better. We didn’t know each other long, so I know you will have no trouble forgetting me. What Benji and I have is special and it’s not something I can just throw away. Do not come looking for me.

  Goodbye,

  Anne

  I read and reread the letter at least ten times, compulsively, unable to stop myself doing it, hoping I’ll read something different, something more, each time. Something less cold. Or at least something I can believe the woman I love wrote to me as her last goodbye.

  None of the love we shared is in the words on this page. None at all.

  But they are her words. And the phone I bought for her is
sitting next to its charger on the counter. The keys to the truck are there too.

  If I didn’t know that women who’ve been abused usually go back to their abusers, that this kind of thing is pretty ordinary behavior for them, I wouldn’t believe this could possibly have happened. I know she hates her ex, that he frightens her, and that she left him for good, that’s what she told me over and over again, since I met her. But maybe those were just words. She did want to go meet him.

  Even at the time, my gut was telling me she was doing it because she wanted to get back together with him. But I didn’t want to believe it, and she did a good job convincing me it wasn’t that with her tall tale of wanting closure, and facing her demons, and whatnot. I should’ve just trusted my gut. She wanted to go back to him. And she probably did that within the hour of me being gone.

  If nothing else, Billy is probably turning in his grave over me letting that happen. But I didn’t let it happen. She chose it. I can’t force her to stay where she doesn’t want to be. I’m not that kind of man. Nor am I gonna try to do it. She rejected my help. She rejected me. And that’s all I need to know.

  I crumple up her note and toss it into the trash, then leave the cabin, mount my bike, and take off.

  I’ll send someone for the truck later, but I won’t be back anytime soon. The memories of this place are all wrong now. They’re painful not peaceful, and even this nighttime ride to Sanctuary isn’t helping to chase the pain away. I doubt anything will ever chase this pain away, not after I was so certain I had found the very thing I’ve been searching for in Anne.

  Wrong. She’s not my peace, not my serenity. She’s just gone. Now the best thing I can hope for is that I’ll one day be able to silence this overwhelming need to kiss her and hold her, make love to her, or simply watch her. That need is still burning hot and strong by the time I reach Sanctuary. And later, as I try to fall asleep in my bed, I begin to doubt it will ever lift.