by C. L. Riley
I still walk with a slight limp and experience stiffness in both elbows and wrists. But I can live with the pain. What I continue to struggle with most is the damage done to my mind.
Trina has me working on various techniques for combating memory issues and dealing with the residual dizziness and headaches. Her methods have become increasingly aggressive as time passes, something that has aided my recovery efforts. Since my last hospital stint and the resulting infection, I am improving daily.
Searching for the woman responsible for my progress, I scan the crowded room.
Since we arrived, she hasn’t left my side for long, always on hand to provide a prompt when my memories decide to take a detour, which happens more than I care to admit. The prompts programmed into my phone help, but she’s my backup.
Right now she is nowhere in sight.
Fuck. Not good. Especially since Boone and Olympia’s party is starting to heat up and the club girls are out in force. My biker brethren are scoping the ladies for available pussy.
This is not Trina’s element, and I suddenly feel protective.
“Eggs! Have you seen my assistant?” I motion the man notorious for his gag-inducing gas over to my spot on one of the club’s leather recliners.
“Who? You mean that fine ass redhead, wearing the big ass sweatshirt?”
I grimace. If Eggs thinks she’s fine, then that means other, less noble bikers have noticed Trina too. My heart rate skyrockets.
“Oh, shit.” Eggs rubs his forehead. “You should have let the guys know she’s off limits.”
He’s right. I should have. But like so many other things I never would have forgotten before my head injury, the real danger didn’t occur to me until now—too late.
In spite of her excitement to go out, I promised myself we’d leave before things got out of hand. The kids were ushered out thirty minutes ago. I’d let my guard down, assuming we had enough time to make our escape. It appears I misjudged the situation.
She’s probably been cornered by some fucker hoping to cop a feel or get his dick sucked.
“You want me to help you find her?” Eggs asks, reminding me he’s still waiting for my direction.
“I’d appreciate it, man. You know this club’s layout way better than I do.”
I struggle to my feet, fighting to ignore the knife of agony that clamps down like a vice on my left leg. At least I can ride, or will soon.
Bones can’t and won’t―ever.
Damn. Thinking about my dad’s plight only makes me crazier. Where the fuck is my girl?
She’s not my girl, I remind myself—again.
No doubt she is fine, as Eggs put it. But I’ve never gone for a woman who hides behind baggy clothes and a mile-high emotional barrier, and I’m not typically interested in women who appear almost virginal and stick their noses up at anything sexual.
Trina, at times, seems more innocent than an actual nun. I have never seen her flirt or act inappropriately around a man, and with me, she’s all business, especially since she got stuck helping me in the shower a second time.
It was like seeing me naked and washing me...touching me, acted as a repellent. Not a great boost to a guy’s confidence.
Through everything, she’s been tough on me and pushes me hard, and anytime I ask about her personal life, she clams up and changes the subject. I can’t really complain though. She has helped me remember and recover without making me feel more incompetent than I already do. She treats me with respect, no judgment in relation to my impairments. I can’t fault her professionalism. She is the perfect employee.
So why the hell do I want to screw up what we have by tempting fate? And why do I keep asking myself that same question over and over?
Trina will never be my girl. I doubt she’ll be anyone’s girl. Not with her obvious aversion to all things male.
I wish Demon’s family would hurry up with their inquiries. I can’t remember them ever taking this long to dig up information on someone. Trina should have been an easy assignment.
Before I can ponder my nurse further, a loud scream, followed by some harsh words, echo from the stairwell that leads to the upper bedrooms.
I get there just in time to see Trina slap a visiting nomad across the face.
“You little cock tease!” the nomad bellows, his hand coming up.
I move faster than I thought possible with my lingering aches and pains, and grab his wrist from behind, twisting hard.
“I suggest you apologize to the lady,” I growl through clenched teeth.
I’m aware of Eggs, flanking my left, and Boone off to my right. I can feel a crowd forming behind us, eager to see what’s going on in the stairwell, hoping for a good fight.
“She ain’t wearing anyone’s patch, and she was up here wanderin’ around, snooping in rooms. I caught her watching Tinker fuck some bitch.”
I’m not sure what to make of the strange biker’s final statement, but I’ll deal with that later. It’s time to stake my claim and make sure everyone understands—Trina is off limits.
She beats me to it.
“I don’t know what is wrong with you, but I wasn’t teasing anyone’s cock. I was trying to find the bathroom. Yes, I was staring in the room. I was in shock. I didn’t expect to see that.”
Boone chuckles and Eggs snickers.
I find myself shooting a smug smile at the nomad. I should have known Trina would have no trouble handling her business, and I can easily imagine the type of kinky shit she walked in on upstairs.
“You ready to get out of here?” I ask, meeting her gaze. I’m sure now she’ll be ready to go.
Once again, she surprises me.
“No, I’d like a beer. Can I have a drink without someone thinking I’m a tease?”
I hadn’t seen Olympia approach, but she pushes her way toward Trina and pulls her back through the crowd. “Come on. I’ll get you a beer, and no one will bother you again.”
Trina gives me a look I can’t begin to decipher and lets Olympia lead her to the bar, where Tweaker hands them each a bottle.
“Well, brother…” Boone elbows me. “Is there something I should know about?” He doesn’t wait for my answer and makes his way through the main room, people parting as he passes.
With a final glance toward Trina, I follow him into his office and collapse into the chair by his desk, relieved to be off my leg for a few minutes.
Boone drops into an oversized office chair, his own personal throne. He opens a drawer in his desk and pulls out two shot glasses and a bottle of Jack Daniels, his drink of choice.
“I don’t have my usual ice, but I think I can manage a straight shot. Want one? You look like you could use it.”
I accept his offer and drain the glass. “Fuck. I needed that.”
Boone laughs, shaking his head. “You were ready to kill Buck.”
“Buck?” I’m curious how he earned his road name.
“He used to ride broncos on the rodeo circuit. Heard he was pretty good. He got bucked off one time too many and had to give up the sport when he broke his back. He’s lucky he can walk.”
“I can relate.” I’m lucky I can walk, ride, and my dick still gets hard.
“So, Trina. I never really paid attention to her before tonight. She’s an attractive woman.”
“And…” I’m not sure I like where this conversation is going.
“You’re single. She’s with you more than anyone else. She obviously cares about you and you her.”
“Whoa, hold on a second. She cares about me like a nurse cares about her patient. She’s a nurse trained in TBI care. You already know, she manages my medical issues and—”
Boone’s laughter stops me mid sentence. “You don’t see it, do you?”
I narrow my eyes, baffled by what he’s insinuating. “I don’t know what the fuck you think you saw.”
“Rowdy, man, don’t get hostile. I’m just sayin’ when you aren’t looking, she’s watching you. Tonight, when you got
up to play catch with JV, she couldn’t keep her eyes off you. Her cheeks turned redder than a fucking ripe cherry.”
I don’t know how to respond to that.
“She sure works hard at hiding her beauty. Olympia pointed out that a lot of women she helps at her agency try to hide their femininity. You ever get Trina to talk about her stalker or her past?”
I pause, ignoring his question and letting what he said sink in.
Is it possible Trina is a survivor of abuse and violence? And if so, what has she experienced? Olympia certainly has insight into that type of thing.
Since the day I found Olympia almost dead, she has earned her wings for sure. Naming her agency Wings was the right move, and even now, she never gets tired of explaining how her program provides women with their own set of wings, allowing them to fly free above their painful pasts.
“What are you thinking?” Boone presses, not one to give up easily.
“About Olympia and the good work she’s doing. Wondering if what she suspects about Trina might be true. Trina’s been working with me for three months and I know nothing personal about her. She refuses to talk about the shit in Seattle, and I’m still waiting for more information from Demon.”
“You sure came to her defence tonight.”
“You know me. I don’t like it when men push their agendas on uninterested and unwilling women. If a lady wants to play that way, I’m all for it. But Trina isn’t into playing, and I’m just trying to make up for the women I should have protected from Ringo.”
Boone tenses and his jaw clenches when he hears his ol’ lady’s attacker’s name.
I don’t blame him.
The thought of Ringo makes my insides boil. I hope he’s getting a fiery pitchfork up his ass this very minute. If anyone deserves the devil’s most heinous torture, it’s him. I’m sure Pyro is right there next to him, face down in the lake of fire.
“Let’s go check on the ladies,” Boone suggests, keeping his anger in check. “I refuse to ruin this party thinking about that motherfucker.”
Trina
I liked Olympia the first time I met her in Rowdy’s hospital room, and she fascinated me during our brief coffee break that same day.
Since then, we’ve crossed paths a few times but only with the guys around, making any real girl-talk pretty much impossible. Tonight is the perfect opportunity for us to finally have a deeper conversation.
“So…” Olympia hints, a devious smile forming. “What’s up with you and Rowdy?”
I get my new friend is blunt, but I wasn’t expecting the question. It will be hard to answer, considering I’m not sure myself. All I can say for certain is his charm and kindness, along with his hard, more domineering edges, are playing havoc with my emotions, and it only gets worse the longer I’m around him.
Rowdy is a gorgeous man, and I’m not the only one who thinks so. Women have been undressing him with their eyes all evening. Their blatant advances are making me, dare I say…jealous?
“Hell-o-o-o-o…earth to Trina. The fact you’re unable to answer is my answer.”
“I’m glad you have it all figured out, because I sure don’t.” I tip my longneck back and gulp down the cold relief. “He’s my patient, but I’m human. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t noticed his appearance. I mean I’ve bathed the man.”
I shiver at the memory of those two shower sessions.
“That’s got to be difficult when your patient looks like him.”
I nod. “Men tend to ‘respond’ while getting bathed. Rowdy was no exception.”
Did I just share private medical information with Olympia? Lord help me. I did. The three beers I’ve consumed in the past hour, after so long without any alcohol, are loosening my tongue. First I slap a man and now this.
Olympia leans in closer, oblivious to my confidentially concerns. “Did he get hard?” Her eyes are alight with mischief.
There’s no stopping me now. I’m in over-share-mode. “Duh…isn’t that what I just said? He’s a man with a penis, right?”
She lets out a barking a laugh. “He sure the fuck is.”
I find myself giggling too. It’s been forever since I laughed with a girlfriend. Perhaps one more beer will be all right. After all, it is officially my night off. I’m just here supporting Rowdy at his first big social event. He was so worried he would forget names.
Where is Rowdy? I haven’t seen him since Olympia dragged me away and he disappeared with his half-brother.
A side door opens, and Boone and Rowdy choose that moment to swagger back into the room, answering my question. Even with Rowdy’s limp, he manages to move with a certain predatory grace. He’s come so far with his physical therapy. I can’t wait to see his expression when I share my updated prognosis.
The men start toward us but are sidelined by two scantily clad women, both wearing skirts so short their ass cheeks peek out with the slightest swish of their hips.
“Oh, uh uh. These new girls need to understand the rules.” Olympia pushes back from the bar and stomps toward them.
Boone wears a smirk on his handsome face, but Rowdy looks a little lost.
Eager to back up Olympia, I weave across the room after her, unable to keep my balance. Damn beers! My new boots aren’t helping either.
Rowdy must notice my dilemma because he is quick to move toward me, bundling me under his arm in a protective gesture that creates a spike of heat between my legs.
“You okay?” He gazes down at me, his worry apparent.
I hear Olympia in the background, yelling at the women for flirting with her old man.
After a quick glance to confirm she’s holding her own, I twist around and lean into Rowdy’s chest, right before allowing an appalling belch to escape.
Oh. My. God. Did I just do that?
He rumbles with laughter and puts his lips to my ear while I fumble in my pocket for my breath mints. “I think it might be time to cut you off,” he whispers.
Popping a mint in my mouth, I tilt my head back and stare up at the man I’ve been taking care of. Tonight it seems our roles are reversed. He’s taking care of me, and I kind of like not being in charge. It has been a long, long time since I allowed any man to lead.
Prior to revealing his alter ego, Dr. Martin was the last man I’d looked up to and trusted enough to follow.
Not now! Not him! I refuse to let that asshole hijack my moment with Rowdy.
I bite down hard on my candy, chewing until it’s gone and peppermint replaces any trace of beer. During those few seconds, I force all thoughts of my former employer back into the prison cell, deep in my mind, reserved for him and my uncle, wishing for the umpteenth time I could permanently erase the memories.
As if sensing my mood change, Rowdy guides me from the crowd and into a shadowy corner. And once more, I find myself facing him, our eyes locked.
This time, he places his palm against my cheek, and his gaze drops to my mouth.
My breathing is suddenly shallow, and I lean into his touch. I want to grind against his powerful body while he plunders my mouth.
With the alcohol giving me a boost of confidence I’d never have without it, I close my eyes and wait, anticipating his mouth slanting over mine. My lips part, and my tongue trails leisurely over them.
What sounds like a growl reverberates through Rowdy’s chest.
I have to squeeze my thighs together as the need for pressure has become almost unbearable.
Still...no kiss.
I’m ready to open my eyes and see what’s taking him so damn long when soft, warm lips brush against the tip of my nose. “Let’s get you home, Trina. You can barely stand.”
Disappointment and embarrassment roar through me, dousing my desire in an instant.
I was ready to kiss my patient, and he refused me, maintaining the professional distance I should have never crossed.
What is wrong with me?
Seemingly unaware of my inner turmoil, he keeps his arm around my shoulders as w
e work our way through one scene after another of delicious decadence I won’t be experiencing tonight. People at this party are not shy about expressing their sexuality, and unlike me, they are clearly enjoying themselves.
He says his goodbyes, while I wallow in self-pity and shame.
No more alcohol. Ever. Beer included.
Rowdy is my patient and a friend, nothing more. I’ll never cross that line, even in my mind, again.
Rowdy
Behind the wheel of my restored 67’ Mustang, the only cage I enjoy driving, I steal a glance at my silent passenger.
Her eyes are closed and her breathing steady, her head rests against my shoulder. I mentally kick myself for the missed opportunity back at the Soul Scorchers’ clubhouse.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I should have kissed her.
There is no doubt she would have been receptive. The only problem is she’s blitzed. What if her desire was fueled by the alcohol? I can’t risk her hating me in the morning. I’d rather suffer with blue balls than lose her.
It doesn’t help Trina is fucking hard to read, and the protective barrier she’s built around herself is seriously well-constructed. She has a story for sure.
Olympia’s suspicions have become my own. She is hiding from something far worse than a lovesick loser. And I can’t protect Trina from her past if I’m not aware of the details. First thing on my list for tomorrow is to push Demon for answers. He needs to figure out what is taking his family connection so long with Trina’s information.
At the moment, I want nothing more than to break through her barricades so I can meet the real woman hiding behind them. But that isn’t the answer. The only way I’ll allow myself to enter her personal fortress is if she unlocks door and invites me inside. Even a crack and I’ll be there.
There’s nothing that says I can’t apply a little pressure on the door, though.
When I find something I want, I go after it. And tonight I’ve found something, or better said, someone, right in front of me, who I more than want.
