by Marie James
“There aren’t many pills you can get on the street, even with a prescription these days that are strong enough to kill you.” She’s applying more eyeliner to her already heavily covered eyelids. “Zolpidem sure as hell isn’t one of the few. You’d have to have a couple bottles at least to do the deed.”
What. The. Fuck?
Is she trying to help me out for next time or tell me I’m an idiot for even trying? So much for the Hippocratic Oath. Do nurses even take that oath or only doctors?
“They just make you sick as hell and land you in the hospital for a couple days. Well,” she says finally turning from the sink and looking me in the eye, “it could be longer than a couple of days. That all depends on what the head doctor thinks after you talk to him.”
She walks out and closes the door softly behind her. This has to be the weirdest day of my life. First the interloper biker and now the nurse who practically just gave assisted suicide information.
She mentioned medications that are available by prescription from the pharmacy, but I know there have to be even stronger meds in this hospital. I let my mind wander and concoct a ridiculous plan to steal drugs from the hospital to finally carry out my plan.
I have two choices; kill myself before I have to meet with the shrink or get out of here before he visits. I’m a horrible liar. Alec used to tell me that all the time. So if he talks to me, I know he’ll keep me in here, and in the psych ward, there’d be no way to get ahold of anything to hurt myself.
If I weren’t so tired, I’d get up and walk out of here right now. I close my eyes and wait. I’ll get a few hours of sleep and then make my escape. No sense in attempting another suicide in a hospital; the very place that has all of the resources to bring me back. I need a quiet place, a place where there’s no chance of a rescue.
***
Waking up in the hospital is like déjà vu. I’m disoriented, but my memories flood back much quicker this time. My throat is still pretty sore, but nothing like it was yesterday. Once again my eyes open to meet the knowing chocolate eyes of a biker.
I smile at him and shift in the bed before I can stop myself. My smile drops and I try to turn on my hardened girl act I’m famous for, but it’s impossible when his finger reaches up and strokes my cheek.
“How did you sleep?” He asks, watching my mouth, waiting for me to answer.
“I hate it here,” I answer.
“You’ll be out soon enough,” he promises.
It’s empty, though. He shouldn’t say things just to try to reassure me. I’ve heard it all my life, starting with the social workers who showed up after my parents died. They swore to me that everything would be okay. I guess it’s just something you tell a nine-year-old who just found her parents dead. They lied then, and he’s lying now.
I hate it when people say things just to placate someone else. I turn my head away from him because looking in his eyes almost has me believing him. The last thing I want to do is believe the lies.
“What time is it?”
“Just after ten. The nurse said the psychiatrist will be here around eleven to clear you so you can leave.” His voice is calm and reassuring. I want to close my eyes and listen to him speak all day, but I have less than an hour to get out of here.
I cut my eyes back to him. “I need to leave.” I begin to shift my weight to the edge of the bed, noticing that my IV is gone. Nurse Emo must have removed it sometime last night. A small white bandage on the back of my hand is all that remains. Good. One less thing to worry about.
“Hold tight, Khloe.” Kid reaches his hands up to stop me from getting off the bed. “You have to wait until you’re discharged.”
“I can’t,” I say with a harsh shake of my head. “I can’t meet with that doctor.”
“You have to,” he says trying to stay calm, but I can tell he wants to use some sort of authority over me.
That pisses me off more than anything. Who the hell does he think he is telling me what to do? I don’t even know this man.
“I can’t,” I say again.
His eyes widen slightly as if he’s just realized what it would mean if I talk to the doctor.
“Please don’t,” I beg him, knowing he’s reading the despair in my eyes.
“You’re not done,” he says softly, giving life to my intentions; intentions that up until now were only racing thoughts in my head.
“They’ll cage me up,” I confess. “They’ll lock me in a room and pump me full of drugs until they deem me sane.” I have no idea if that will actually happen, but I’m not above making him think that. That’s what happens in the movies, and I imagine there’s some truth in the onscreen dramatizations.
“You can’t leave if you’re just going to try again. I can’t let that happen. I can’t just walk away knowing the ideas you have swimming around in that beautiful head of yours.”
Beautiful?
Don’t listen to him, Khloe. He’s only saying things to get you to do what he wants.
Two can play this game.
“I have a history,” I lie. I’ve never been suicidal before. Depressed? Of course. What teenage girl hasn’t been? Alec’s death just tipped the scales. “If I stay, they’re going to keep me just out of precaution. I’m not going to hurt myself, but I won’t be able to convince them of that.” I look into his eyes, pleading as best I can. “Help me get out of here.”
“Where will you go? You told me yesterday you don’t have a home.” Damn. “I can’t just let you wander off. What kind of man am I, if I let you do that?”
Before I can belt out a lie about staying at a friend’s house, he continues.
“Come to my place,” he offers.
“You want me to stay at your house?” His offer makes me slide back further on the bed. I narrow my eyes at him, doing my best to figure out his intentions before responding. He’s got his leather biker cut on again today, but rather than the plain shirt he had on yesterday, he’s wearing a t-shirt that showcases Chewbacca riding a motorcycle. It’s cute and comical, and it feeds my inner nerd like nothing else.
“I live at the clubhouse. There’s quite a few of us that stay there,” he explains.
I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. I don’t know what’s worse, being alone with him at his house or being in the middle of a group of bikers. I don’t have the luxury of time to sit here and think about it.
“Perfect,” I say attempting more enthusiasm than I feel. If I get there and don’t like it, I’ll just leave. Before that can happen, I have to get out of here. “Can you grab my clothes?” I point to my things in the plastic bag by the sink.
He goes to get my clothes, and I stand from the bed. Without a second thought, I whip off the hospital gown just as he turns back to me. He freezes, eyes raking my body up and down. Chill bumps pop up all over my skin at his perusal. I’m standing in nothing but a small pair of panties, and he’s acting as if I have my feet near my ears begging him to come get a taste.
I huff and cross the room to him, snatching the clothes out of his hands. He snaps out of his trance and turns his back to me.
“Calm down, biker boy. They’re only tits. Something tells me you’ve seen your fair share.” He chuckles and shakes his head slightly at my comments.
I tug my clothes on, and I’m working on my shoes when he turns back around. I see relief wash over his face, finding me dressed.
“I’m ready if you are,” I say standing from the chair I sat in to tie my shoes. If I’m being honest, I’m completely exhausted. Just getting dressed has worn me out. I’d like nothing more than to lie back in the bed and take a nap, but there’s no time.
“Here,” he says reaching for my hand. I place mine in his and frown when he reaches into his pocket. He pulls a large knife out, flicking it open and bringing it to my skin. I try to pull my hand back, but he holds me tighter. I watch, riveted as he places the tip under the hospital band on my wrist. He slices it quickly, allowing it to flutter to the floor. �
��Don’t need anyone thinking you’re sneaking out of here.”
He releases my wrist, closes his knife, and bends down to pick up the information band. He holds it out to me. I take a step back.
“I don’t want that,” I say honestly.
“You’ll want it later,” he says closing the distance between us and tucking it into the front pocket of my jeans.
He doesn’t step away immediately, if anything he takes another half-step closer. My breathing hitches, and not from discomfort. I tingle, every hair on my body stands on end. For a split second, I find peace. I let my mind believe that this handsome man standing in front of me sees me as a woman and not a child. In a flash of a second, I let myself imagine riding off into the sunset on the back of his bike. I imagine every care and concern in my life just melting away.
I sigh when I open my eyes back up and realize that he released my hand and backed away. I’m never getting out of Farmington. I sigh and follow him out of the room.
Chapter 8
Getting Khloe out of the hospital was much easier than it ever should’ve been. We literally just left the room and walked out the front door. An underage girl who’s the ward of the state just moseyed down the hall and right out the front door with a bearded biker. I don’t know if I’m disappointed or glad.
Of course, the answer is I’m glad. The last thing I need is a kidnapping charge, although I feel as if I’m only postponing the inevitable. Fuck. Kincaid and Shadow are going to kill me when they realize I’ve just committed a felony taking this girl out of here. I have to tell them. I’d never lie about something that could get the club into trouble.
I try my best only to think of the next steps once I get her to the clubhouse. After helping her get out of there before she could be evaluated can easily mean the police will be coming for a little visit at the clubhouse. Hopefully, it will be one of the guys he or Kincaid knows well. We just traipsed right out, the three-headed Devil Dog big as day on my back. If they pull the cameras trying to figure out where she went, they’ll know exactly where to go looking for her.
I can’t think of any of that right now. Clear thoughts weren’t really possible the second she wrapped her arms and thighs around me. She’s so small she has to lean in super close against my back just to get her arms all the way around me. Her breasts are pushed into my back. I know it’s impossible to feel through the thick leather of my cut, but I swear I can feel the outline of her entire body on my back.
I try to remind myself that she’s not quite eighteen, but my cock doesn’t seem to care. I’m not fifteen, so he doesn’t control my head as much as he did then, but he is a persistent fucker. More than once since leaving the hospital I’ve had to reach down and adjust him.
The feeling of her riding with me is incredible, but I don’t think her being seen out is the best thing, considering we just absconded from the hospital. The four-mile trip takes almost twenty minutes due to the terrible condition of the roads. I sigh both in relief and in disappointment as we pull up to the clubhouse. I hit the kickstand with my boot and wait for her to climb off before I dismount.
I watch her intently as she pulls the borrowed helmet off her head. She relaxes her face when she catches me watching her. She loved it. The tiny smile on her face is also reflected in her eyes, if only briefly. I file that away for later.
I watch her look around the parking lot timidly. There are only a handful of bikes here. Most of the guys are at work or off doing stuff for the club. She steps in closer to my side when a pickup truck drives down the road in front of the club. She’s skittish, but the response says she trusts me on some level at least.
“Come on,” I say stepping away from her slightly. “I’ll show you to your room.”
She nods and falls into step with me.
We almost make it to the hallway where the bedrooms are without running into anyone. Almost.
“Who is this young lady?” Rose asks from the doorway of the kitchen.
“Rose, this is Khloe. Khloe, Rose,” I say in quick introduction. “Rose is sort of the house mother around here. If you ever need help or have a question, she’s the lady with all the answers.”
Khloe raises her hand up and gives Rose a small wave. “Nice to meet you,” she says timidly.
“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything, honey. You just come look for me.” Rose turns and walks back through the door.
I turn hearing the front door open and close.
“Fuck,” I mutter looking over my shoulder and seeing Shadow walking up to us.
“You trying to sneak her in?” Shadow says walking closer but keeping a little distance when he sees Khloe tense up beside me.
“We just got here. Khloe, this is Shadow. He’s our VP. Second in command.”
“Nice to meet you, darlin’,” he says holding out his hand to her.
She takes it quickly, but she pulls hers away after only a second. This girl doesn’t trust anyone. Up until this point, I’m certain it’s saved her from trouble on more than one occasion. She’ll loosen up eventually around the clubhouse.
“I didn’t figure they’d discharge her this early in the day,” Shadow says. “They usually drag their feet until after lunch time up there.”
“About that,” I begin but cut my eyes to Khloe. “We’ll talk about it later.”
He narrows his eyes at me but is distracted by his ringing phone. He pulls it from his pocket and frowns down at the screen. “You bet we will. I don’t know that the girls have had a chance to make the bed. You’ll probably need to grab linens on your way to her room.”
The look he gives me before placing the phone to his ear makes me want to run for the hills.
I watch him walk away and feel temporary relief at the sight of his retreating back.
“Scary guy,” Khloe says softly.
“Don’t let his looks fool you. He’s just a big teddy bear,” I assure her. At least he will be toward you. I may be buried on the back side of the property come morning.
We stop by the small hall closet before going to her room. I pull out a set of sheets. They're all bundled together and inside of a matching pillowcase. This is all Emmalyn’s doing, something she saw on some DIY page on the internet. Putting sheet sets inside one of the matching pillowcases? Genius. So much better than the cluster fuck it used to be. Rose does a lot of stuff to help us out around the clubhouse, but she draws a hard line at washing our dirty laundry, that includes the bed sheets.
“It isn’t much,” I tell her as I open the door.
I flip on the light, and I step inside; she follows close behind me. The room isn’t anything to write home about. Bed, dresser, TV. This is one of the rooms that has an en-suite bathroom. Shadow insisted on it. Said the last thing the guys need is sharing a bathroom with a teenage girl.
“This is mine?” she asks almost reverently. I watch as she looks around the room, and I feel it in my gut when a tear rolls down her cheek.
“My room is a little bit bigger,” I tell her. “You’re more than welcome to it if this isn’t big enough.”
She laughs sardonically. “This is more than I’ve ever had,” she confesses.
It’s then that I realize the tear rolling down her cheek is one of gratitude, happiness even. It breaks my heart even further to think this girl cries over having a bedroom.
“I haven’t had my own room since I was a kid. The foster homes always had three or four other girls in the room.” I give her a weird look, and she laughs at my confused face. I mean seriously. How do you fit four girls in one room?
“Bunkbeds,” she answers as if I asked the question out loud.
She steps closer to me, raising her arms as she closes the distance between them. She’s going to hug me, and I’m not sure my dick can take anymore. She’s not intentionally being a tease, but he doesn’t know the difference. If she wraps her body around mine, she’s going to know immediately just how much of a fucking pervert I am.
Her face falls when
I take a step back. I hold out the pile of sheets as a distraction. She pulls them from my hands.
“Thank you,” she says turning and walking back toward the bed.
“Do you want some help with that?” I ask.
“I got it,” she says quickly over her shoulder, dismissing me.
“Okay, well…” I clap my hands together and back toward the door. “Rose is in the kitchen if you get hungry. The club usually eats dinner about six-thirty. I guess I’ll see you then.”
She turns suddenly. “Where are you going?”
“I have to talk to Shadow. I have to give him a heads up. If the police start looking for you, it’s only a matter of time before they track you here.” I hold my leather vest away from my chest in explanation.
“You think they’ll make me leave?” She sits down on the edge of the bed in defeat.
“Do you want to be here?”
She nods.
“Then this is where you’ll be.”
***
To say Shadow was pissed is an understatement.
“We’re in the business of rescuing kidnapped girls, not committing the crimes ourselves,” he yelled at me when I told him about taking Khloe from the hospital.
He’s not happy, but he also offered to call a few of the guys at the PD to let them know what is going on. He said he’d get back with me later about what they said. He knows this situation is nothing like the jobs we get called out on.
I stayed out of his way and away from the club most of the day, only to return in time for dinner. Khloe didn’t show. Rose told me she came out and had a sandwich mid afternoon but then went right back to her room.
I went to check on her after dinner, but I found her asleep on her bed, curled up in a ball. She looked more like a little girl now than any other time I’ve seen her before. Peaceful. Content.
I close the door quietly and begin to make my way back down to my room. Snapper steps into the hallway with a look of determination on her face. Her bright smile and the faint hint of wrinkles near her eyes from smiling all her life are a welcome sight. No one looking at this redheaded beauty would question her if she were out past dark.
