DADDY AT THE ALTAR: Iron Claws MC

by St. Rose, Claire

  Ben swore out loud. “When?”

  “The doctor just called me.”

  “She in on this?”

  I knew what he was asking. Was she a part of our investigation? Was I going to trust her with information that was sensitive? Could she give us the same? I didn’t know how to answer it. The fact that she’d phoned me was a matter of efficiency. If she could find out anything, I would be the logical place to start. I doubted it was about trust. From my side, though, I would trust her with my life. Her eyes told me that she’d been through hell and back and made it out alive. Somehow I connected the words “strength” and “honor” with her.

  “She is,” I said and made a mental note to clue her on in this particular little fact when I saw her again.

  “You believe she’s going to be able to help us with this?” Ben asked. I recognized the doubt in his voice.

  “She’s the best in her field,” I said with confidence. “She saved Taylor. That’s enough for me to want to return the favor.” Life for life, that was our code. If someone did something for us as big as this, we owed that person a favor of the same size.

  “You’re sure she’s not just a lay?”

  It was a fair question. It just rubbed me the wrong way. I got up. I was taller than Ben when I straightened my back, and whatever my face showed, it was enough to make him back down. Good thing, too, because I was ready to clip him on the jaw without asking any questions.

  “I’ll let the others know,” he said and turned back to his office. It was better that he got out of my sight. I didn’t want any of them getting the wrong idea about Emily and rumors started with one person. If he spoke to the rest of the gang and said anything out of line, there was going to be trouble.

  And it wasn’t just because Emily had saved Taylor that I felt this protective over her. I liked her. She deserved protection because she was a female of worth.

  I finished up my work in the club and headed toward the hospital. I wanted to go see Taylor. Besides, the hot doctor was on duty there, so the chances of running into her were really good. What was wrong with mixing a little business with pleasure?

  ###

  When I pulled into the hospital parking lot, I parked at the emergency room again. Hopefully they weren’t going to kick me out this time. I didn’t want to be a person on their permanent ban list. It was a bit of an insult at the best of places, and a hospital was the last place I wanted to be kicked out of on a continuous basis, especially if Taylor was still there for a while.

  I walked in through the emergency doors and braced myself. The receptionists behind the desk were different ones than last night. They glanced up at me for a moment, sizing me up, and then carried on with their work as if I was of no consequence. Good show.

  I walked up to the desk, trying to look as docile as possible—not that it was very easy with all these leathers and tattoos, people tended to get the wrong idea about me—and cleared my throat so that one of them looked up.

  She looked at me with a can-I-help-you face, eyebrows slightly raised.

  “I’m looking for a patient that came in last night,” I said. “Taylor Roosa?”

  Her fingers flew over the keyboard. A moment later she nodded.

  “He’s not in the emergency unit anymore,” she said.

  “Can you tell me where he is?”

  She smiled politely at me, a blank stare going with it so that I was pretty sure what the answer was. It wasn’t because it wasn’t her place to tell me, either. She just didn’t want to tell me anything because of what I looked like.

  Discrimination was real.

  Obviously I’d gone through pains to look like this and throw out this image, but that was beside the point. There was no reason for the hospital staff to treat me any different from any other person; they were supposed to treat everyone as equal. We all bled red, after all.

  “Can I help?” a voice said behind me that I recognized. I turned, and Emily stood behind me. Her hair was in a ponytail this time, half of the hair draped over her shoulder, and loose strands framed her face, giving her a softer look than the night before.

  But her eyes were filled with something that wasn’t there yesterday, and they were the color of a storm.

  I turned and leaned an elbow on the reception, looking cool and suave. Emily raised her eyebrows at me, but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, which made me think that she liked what she saw after all. The receptionist cleared her throat, but when I looked back at her she was busy with her paperwork.

  “I’m looking for Taylor,” I said to Emily.

  She nodded. “He’s been moved to a different ward, but you can follow me. I’ll take you to him.”

  She started to walk away from me, and I took it that I had to follow. I watched her as she walked ahead of me. That doctor’s coat was a pity. I couldn’t see her form well enough, the way she swayed her hips, what her ass looked like. I imagined it was as good as the rest of her, but that was as far as I got.

  From behind I could also see her hair trailing down her back. It was dark brown and thick, and I didn’t realize how long the stuff was.

  She looked over her shoulder to see if I was still following, and I gave her a lopsided grin, glad she hadn’t caught me staring at her ass.

  Emily stopped in front of a closed door and turned to me.

  “He should be awake and responsive. He’s due for his meds in about half an hour so until then he’ll be talking. After that it should knock him out again.”

  “Thank you, doctor,” I said, remembering my manners. That ghost of a smile flickered over her serious features, and she nodded. She pushed the door open and let me walk in first.

  Taylor was in a room with two beds. The other bed was occupied by someone buried under a mound of blankets, and judging by the light snoring he or she was asleep. I turned my attention to Taylor, and my heart plummeted to my feet.

  He looked terrible. I’d seen him yesterday, seen what he’d looked like, but somehow the news that he’d been moved and that he was awake and responsive had made me think that what I was going to see would be the old Taylor.

  He looked nothing like himself. It wasn’t as bad as last night, admittedly, but it was still bad. His eyes were sunken with dark rings underneath them, as if he hadn’t slept for days. His skin was a washed out color, as if the life had been sucked from him, and he stared at the window with a vacant look. When I walked toward the bed, he turned his head slowly, and when his eyes fell on me, he smiled.

  The emotion on his face resembled the Taylor I knew.

  “Hey, Daniel,” he said and then swallowed hard as if it hurt to say that. I eyed the bandage in his neck, wondering what they’d done to him.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “I’m okay. Just a bit under the weather, you know?”

  I nodded. Dammit, he looked a lot worse than “a bit under the weather.”

  “They looking after you here?” I asked.

  Taylor nodded and looked toward the door. When I looked over my shoulder, Emily stood in the doorway with her arms folded, watching us. I turned my attention back to Taylor. She could stay if she wanted to. I didn’t mind her hearing what we had to say.

  “Someone did this to me, Daniel. You know I wouldn’t do this.” He sounded urgent. He moved his hand and gripped my arm.

  “I know, Tay,” I said, aware of Emily when I used his childhood nickname. “Do you know who?”

  Taylor shook his head, and my heart sank again. I’d really hoped he could give us some clue where to start, at least.

  “Someone crept up behind me and stuck a needle in my neck. It was out before I could turn around, but whoever it was had started running away.”

  I nodded. It didn’t help me at all.

  “I’m just glad you’re okay,” I said. Taylor finally let go of my arm, convinced that I believed him. “Everyone’s worried about you. And we’re watching the streets. We’re going to find this guy, okay?�
��

  Taylor nodded and closed his eyes. He breathed in deeply, and then exhaled again, wincing like it hurt.

  “I’m glad you came,” he said to me. He kept his eyes closed, and a moment later his breathing evened out. He was asleep. I turned and looked over my shoulder again to where Emily had stood. She was gone.

  I left Taylor’s side and found my way back to the ER. She was nowhere to be seen. I pulled over a nurse that looked vaguely familiar. She looked irritated when she saw me. Definitely someone familiar, then.

  “Where can I find Doctor Faye?” I asked.

  She looked suspicious when she asked.

  “I want to talk about Taylor Roosa.”

  The mention of the name caused a flicker of recognition, but she still hesitated. I was starting to get annoyed with how standoffish they were toward me. I wasn’t a criminal for God’s sake.

  “She might be in the cafeteria, taking her break while it’s quiet in here,” she finally said and folded her arms over her chest as if she was expecting me to challenge her.

  “Thanks,” I said and turned around, walking away from the judgment.

  I followed the signs until I found the cafeteria and looked around. At this time of night, it was quiet, with only two tables occupied and one person behind the serving counter. Emily sat at one of the tables with a coffee cup and a half-eaten sandwich next to her, and a file. Papers were scattered across the rest of the table.

  I walked up to her. She glanced up at me and then gestured at the open chair opposite her. I was surprised at her welcome. I’d half expected her to only ask what I wanted and then send me away again.

  “What are you looking at?” I asked.

  She had taken a bite of her sandwich, and she swallowed before answering me.

  “The toxicity report on Taylor. The other one’s report isn’t done yet.”

  “You think you’ll find the same thing, though?”

  She nodded and took a sip of her coffee.

  “Don’t you want to get something to drink? A coffee?”

  I shook my head. With my level of suppressed anger about all this, alcohol would have been better, but I doubted they sold alcohol in the hospital cafeteria.

  “So, what are they saying?” I asked.

  She took a deep breath.

  “It’s the most slap-dash combination I’ve ever seen. It’s a combination of crystal meth, methanol, embalming fluids, and formaldehyde. The reactions it causes are horrific. I don’t know who came up with this, but it’s terrible. The fact that your brother made it is a miracle.”

  I leaned back and crossed my arms over my chest. I’d heard of embalming fluids and formaldehyde before. They used stuff like that for dead bodies before funerals.

  “The other guy, the one that didn’t make it…” I started, not sure how to carry on in a way that wasn’t offensive. I’d seen a lot of death in my life, but I still tried to be respectful about it. Besides, when I mentioned him, her eyes changed. They went from a light gray to that same stormy look I’d seen before, and I was guessing it was a sensitive topic to her. “What was it that got to him? Different levels?”

  She shook her head. “I think it was heroine in his system. His arms had scars on them, and he had a bad infection caused by needles that hadn’t been sterilized. His system probably had extra strain.”

  I nodded and left it at that. Her face was so riddled with sorrow it was as if she’d lost someone close to her.

  “Doctor Faye,” I started.

  “You can call me Emily,” she said, and then she smiled. I’d seen flickers of this smile, but nothing straight up. Her whole face changed, and if I thought she was stunning before, the smile that made it that much more intense. Her whole face lit up, her eyes changed in color again and her teeth were whiter than white.

  I tried to imagine her with loose hair and out of the doctor’s coat. I had the feeling that the real deal would be even better than the image I could conjure up in my mind.

  “Emily,” I said, trying the name on for size. It rolled off my tongue nicely. It was the kind of name I could mutter during sex.

  I tried to push the thought away. Now wasn’t the time. It didn’t make a difference. I envisioned her naked and on top of me, that hair fanned out over my chest, nails biting into my shoulders and her breath rasping in my ear.

  “What is it?” she asked, ripping me out of my fantasy, and I felt like a perverted idiot.

  I cleared my throat. “I just wanted to ask how long you think Taylor will be in the hospital.”

  She looked at me for a moment, as if she didn’t believe that was what I’d really wanted to say. If only she knew what was going on in my mind. Maybe she could see it in my eyes. But then she nodded and her business face came back on.

  “I think another couple of days, just to make sure he’s stable. Let me give you his attending physician’s details since he’s been transferred and he’s not under my watch anymore.”

  She found a small square of paper and ripped off a corner, scribbling a number down.

  “This is very crude,” she apologized, handing it to me. “His name is Dr. Luther. He’s good at what he does, you can trust that your brother is in good hands.”

  I looked at the number and then stuffed the piece of paper into one of my pants pockets. I would probably lose it. I doubted I was going to contact this new doctor. That meant I wouldn’t deal with Emily anymore and that would be a damn shame.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  She smiled again, and it melted me all the way into my boots. She finished off the last of her sandwich, washed it down with the last of her coffee, and the leaned back in her chair, pressing her hand against her head like it hurt.

  “God, what a night,” she said.

  “It’s been rough?”

  “You have no idea. It’s rough already, being an emergency room, but sometimes it’s just so much worse than other times. It’s been a particularly bad week.”

  I could imagine, with Taylor’s condition and then another victim that didn’t make it. I saw a lot of blood and death, but I wasn’t in a place where the victims collected and half of the time it was my fault. I couldn’t imagine how difficult it was being in a place where all these people needed help. Carrying that kind of responsibility?

  I felt responsible for my boys, and I would lay down my life for theirs if it came down to it, but Emily was in a way responsible for every life that came in through that door. It was heavier than mine would ever be. It made me respect her that much more.

  Emily was looking at me when I turned my eyes back to her after the mental lapse I’d been running.

  “You know, I’ve forgiven you,” she said. She smiled again, this time cheeky. It was a whole different side than the serious doctor routine.

  “For what?” I asked.

  “For trying to kiss me last night.”

  I pulled a face. “You hit me,” I pointed out. “Shouldn’t I be the one forgiving you?”

  She shrugged.

  “It was the flowers, wasn’t it?” I asked. She chuckled.

  “The identical bouquets? Yeah, that was what did the trick. Nothing as refreshing as the same thing twice in a row. It was like a bad instance of déjà vu.”

  The comment was so sharp and arrogant it caught me off guard. She was clever, a saver of lives, and witty to boot. That was on top of her hotness. At this point, I was willing to believe she was the perfect woman if ever there was one.

  “I don’t appreciate your lack of gratitude,” I said. “I waited out there for an hour.”

  “Noted,” she said and smiled. “You told me I had to get ahold of you when I was ready to be thanked.”

  I nodded.

  “Well, I’m ready now.”

  The words were so simple, the sentence so straightforward, it took me a moment to register what she was saying. She leaned forward, both elbows on the table. If her shirt were lower, I would see some cleavage. Unfortunately, she was dressed for the hospital,
not a date.

  Still, her face was close and her eyes were inviting. A smile played around her lips, and I thought I knew what it was she was asking for. I wasn’t sure, but I was willing to take the risk. For someone like her, I would always be willing to take the risk. I’d done the same thing last night and survived, after all.

  I leaned forward. The Formica table was between us, scattered with her papers, and they made a crackling sound when I leaned on them. I closed the distance between us and my lips touched hers.

  It was electric, better than I thought it could be. Her lips were so soft, and when I moved my lips she moved with me, opening her mouth slightly.