“It’s clean,” she says, somewhat startled and I stand back watching her taking in the space confidently smirking at the thought that I’m the one who gets to help change this woman’s perceptions of the Horde, of men.
“Baby, I don’t like dirty sheets. You won’t be stuck cleaning our place, constantly bitching about me leaving shit around and not cleaning the toilet. I’m thirty years old. Been living alone, even here at the clubhouse, for most of that.”
Her eyes get misty for some damn reason. What the hell did I say?
“You okay?” I ask.
“Let’s lie down. Eat. Watch a movie.”
Works for me.
The party continues on through the night. It’s a little loud, but Nic gets used to it quickly. After I give her pain meds for her head and she finishes her sandwich, she drifts off to sleep in my arms. God help me, I never thought I’d be more content holding a sleeping woman in my arms than out in the main room partying, but here I am.
In the morning, well a little closer to afternoon, I call up Caitlin to see if she can check in on Nic today, but she’s got a full schedule. With Caitlin crossed off the list, I begin calling offices closer to Bentley. Most of them aren’t taking new patients. Of the three that are, only one will see Nic without insurance. I’ll pay the bill. She doesn’t need to worry about financial matters while recovering from the shit she’s recovering from.
The bitching about going to get checked out I could do without. I’m literally carrying the woman to my bike kicking and complaining until I drop her on the back, gently shove the helmet down over her head, then give it to her straight. “Nic, baby, you want to fuck. I want to fuck. We can’t fuck until you get the okay from a medical professional.”
Never saw a person go from whiny-ass bitch to ready to ride so fast before. It takes twenty-five minutes for us to get out to the developments outside of Bentley where they’re expanding the town by putting in all the new restaurants, the Sam’s Club next to the new Walmart Super Store, and brand-new subdivisions. The office is located at the far end of a strip of offices, right next to the one that wouldn’t see Nic without insurance. That office reads, Edgar Brand, D.O. That’s an actual doctor. The office we’re heading to reads, Dusty Brand, P.A.
Is she a doctor? They have the same last name, so they must be related. “A P.A. is a physician’s assistant,” Nic, who must’ve read my face, says. “They don’t get paid as much as a physician because they didn’t go to med school.”
“Fuck that, I’m not taking you to some quack who hasn’t gone to med school.”
“No. The P.A. program is medicine without all the extra shit you don’t need. They have degrees and everything. It’s cool. My guess is Edgar there”—she tips her chin up to point at Edgar Brand D.O.—“is the licensed supervising physician. That’s why their practices are next door.”
“You know a lot about physician’s assistants.”
She shrugs. “In another life, when I was in college, one of my roommates was in a program. I learned a lot from her.”
Goddamn, she’s been through more than any one woman should have to. Her answer is good enough for me. Nic trusts a P.A., we go see the P.A.. I pull open the door, waiting for her to enter first, and then I grab the second door, holding that one open for her, too.
“Such a gentleman,” she murmurs, causing me to outright laugh. I’m a biker. A Horde. This is probably the first time in my life I’ve been deemed a gentleman.
We get Nic checked in and I hand over my debit card before they ever see her, ensuring they get paid. Then we wait. The waiting room isn’t busy, which makes me wonder if I made the wrong choice by agreeing to come here. After about fifteen minutes of Nic resting her head on my shoulder while I fill out the medical forms for her with the information she gives me, the door opens and the nurse ushers us back. Nic doesn’t argue.
The nurse has her stand on a scale before steering us into a room. She takes Nic’s blood pressure, looks in her eyes, takes her temp and finally snatches the clipboard from my hands. To say I’m glad that bitch left us would be an understatement. Only a few more minutes pass before the door opens to this fucking hottie with a capital H. Light brown skin, curly brownish hair wrapped up in a bun, and the most vibrant blue eyes. In my single days, I’d have had this woman in the office.
“I’m Dusty Brand, P.A.”
“Nice to meet, you. I’m Nicola. This big guy is Vlad.”
She sort of bursts out a laugh. “As in the Impaler?”
I shoot her the smile. “Something like that.”
“Wow,” she says. “You are everything they say.”
The comment takes me aback. I thought she was talking about the dead Romanian guy. “You know me?”
“Yes, definitely. A couple of girls in my apartment building have gone to Horde parties. Women talk when you’re the subject.”
Nic clears her throat.
“Oh.” The PA sucks in her breath along with her bottom lip as she looks between Nic and me. “That was completely unprofessional. I’m terribly sorry.”
“S’okay,” Nic mumbles. “He wasn’t a virgin waiting to be deflowered when we met.”
“But I’m a hundred percent her man now. There’s no pasture greener than the one I’m in.”
The pretty PA smiles at us. “You just made my heart incredibly happy. Anyway, let’s talk about your head. You were seen by Dr. Brennan-Ellis?”
Nic nods.
“She’s wonderful. You were in great hands. So what brings you to my doorstep today?”
“Caitlin’s a friend,” Nic says, “but she lives over in Thornbriar. It’s a bit of a drive and she has a full schedule today.”
“Nic has a concussion,” I speak up because god knows if she’ll try to downplay her condition. “Her head’s been aching and she’s still pretty tired. We need to make sure shit’s still okay. She wants to fuck, but I say not yet.”
Nic kicks my shin. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you put it out there like that. What is wrong with you?”
“Please.” Dusty places her hand on Nic’s arm. “I’ve only just met him and I’d jump him like a kangaroo. You’re sharing his life. I can only imagine how hard it is to stay away.”
For a second, I think Nic is going to freak, but she doesn’t, smiling at the pretty woman instead. I don’t know why talking sex embarrasses her, but crisis averted.
Dusty gives her a full workup and determines that sex is still off the table for at least the next two weeks.
My dick hears the news, processes it, and still doesn’t care because it’s for Nic and fuck, the woman totally owns me.
22
Nicola
Three weeks later…
Today is the first day I could get an appointment with Dusty. She had to go out of town for a conference, thus Vlad and I had to push our sexathon back by a week. He would’ve joined me today, but the brothers are busy building the foundation for the home we’re having delivered. Although we looked into places off the Horde property, he decreed it wasn’t safe enough and that we’d live next to the compound.
It keeps him happy, which means I don’t complain. Whether we’re in town or next door to his brothers, we’re still getting the hell out of that clubhouse. I like the club, but I don’t like living with bikers who aren’t as clean as my man and eat the groceries I buy before I get them put away. Those men like to get their party on, too. It gets loud and wild and I’m not really into loud or wild. Some days a girl just wants quiet and subdued. A time to sit around in a tank top with no bra and ugly kitten sleep shorts while indulging on a tube of raw cookie dough. Sue me.
He’s sent the noob with me because with Rage out there somewhere and the still unknown threat that forced us out of Texas, I’m not allowed to go out alone. Nurse Betty, the old bitty who works for Dusty, whom I’ve un-affectionally dubbed “Nurse Bitty,” calls me to follow her back. The noob stays in the waiting room.
When I step on the scale, it says I’ve gai
ned two pounds. “Uh, you need to take that again. Let me take my shoes off.”
“It’s two pounds,” Nurse Bitty replies, rather snidely, I might add.
“Exactly. two pounds to you is like five hundred when you’ve got a man as hot as my man in my bed. Women circle him like vultures.”
“That man only has eyes for you, and you know it.” Dusty walks over to greet me with a half-hug. She and I talk all the time because for some reason I trusted her with the knowledge that I’ve been running a safehouse for abused women for the past several years and that I’m moving the operation here.
“You’ll need a medical professional,” she said. “Someone to check them out, someone not a man.”
The woman wasn’t wrong. I sucked it up and asked her. “Would you be interested in working with me?” She smiled, pet my arm, and blew my mind by saying, “Fuck yeah.”
Now I’m here wondering if I get to finally bed my sexy biker again. After a thorough checkup, I get a smile and the words I’ve been waiting to hear. “I’ll warn against going right for the sex swing or going at it in a truck bed while speeding down the road. Otherwise, go forth and copulate.”
Yes. Yes, and did I say yes?
As we shoot the shit, Dusty walks me to the door to the waiting room, but we both pause when we hear a chilling sound on the other side. I’d know that sound anywhere. It’s funny, people tend to think that because it’s called a silencer that there’s no sound when the gun is fired. Not true. There’s no loud pop or bang, but there’s a definite thwarp as the bullet passes through the chamber. An unnerving sound, that thwarp.
Dusty’s eyes grow wide. I hate seeing the fear in them. “Do you have a backdoor?” I ask, whispering.
She nods instead of answering and gestures with two fingers. Quiet, but with my heart pounding, she leads us to the back, where I crack the door, peeking to the left and right. There doesn’t seem to be anyone keeping guard back here. We slip out just as another couple of thwarp, thwarp sounds disturb the silence behind us. We hide behind the dumpster.
Usually dumpsters have this greasy film covering them which pairs well with the rotting refuse smell of the bags within, but considering this strip is all offices, the clear bags are filled mostly with shredded documents. Luckily for us because without knowing the enemy, it’s safer to stay hidden.
The enemy reveals himself soon enough. Rage. I figured as much. I broke his nose that day, that much is clear by looking at the man. He glances around the space, then starts walking toward us. I pull Dusty back, pushing her down to cover her with my body. The next sound is of a man rummaging around inside the dumpster. I peek again. He stops digging to lunge to the left as if he thinks he’ll catch us there. I push Dusty to the right end of the dumpster. He’s going to find us if I don’t do something.
The gravel has cracked and chipped into tiny pea-size pieces. I pick one up and toss it to the far end of the back area where the dump truck enters and leaves. Honestly, I didn’t think it would work. Maybe I knocked a few more brain cells loose than I originally thought because the guy actually stops the hide-n-seek at the dumpster to sneaks over that way. “Go,” I whisper to Dusty, indicating getting back inside the office. It’s our only shot. Bad choice of words. No shots. I put that vibe into the universe. We do not want to get shot.
She makes a run for it. Unfortunately, Rage spins at that moment, freezing her in place with the weapon he has pointed at her. “Who are you?” she asks.
“Shut the fuck up, cunt. I ask the questions.”
Dusty stands there, looking scared, but her head high.
“Where’s Vlad’s bitch?”
“Vlad?” she asks.
“Answer me, cunt!” he screams, raising the dull steel to eye level.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
Bless her heart. She keeps him talking. Calmly.
“Vlad’s bitch. Dark hair. Followed her here.”
“If you mean Nicola, I don’t know. I heard a sound in my waiting room and saw you through the reception glass. I ran back to the room and she was gone.”
While he’s got his attention firmly on Dusty, I sneak from trash bag to trash bag, keeping low, and pick up a plastic shopping bag to keep from stepping on it and making noise.
“Not the right answer, cunt,” he bellows.
“It’s the only one I got,” she replies.
He takes aim and I see red. There’s no way I’ll let him hurt her. Where my fortitude comes from, I have no idea, but it’s him or us and I choose him to die today, leaping from my hiding spot to land on his back.
“Drop.” I yell to her. Dusty drops to the ground while he turns the gun over his shoulder to shoot. The bullet clips my shoulder and I cry out. It takes his attention off Dusty enough to allow her to rush at him, catching him in the gut and knocking us both to the ground. I hit the ground hard but have enough sense to lift my head to keep it from cracking against the asphalt.
She jumps on him, keeping his hand holding the gun pressed to the pavement and I do the only thing I can think of, draping the plastic bag over his head and twisting to tighten the bottom, keeping any air from getting inside. Between his need for air and killing me, air wins out, which means he drops the gun to claw at the bag.
While I’m busy choking the man, Dusty picks up the hateful weapon and points it at him.
“Call the cops,” I yell to her. She pulls her cell from her white coat pocket, but it’s not 9-1-1 she dials.
I know that when she shouts, “Vlad, we need you.” When did she get my man’s number?
Rage continues to flail, but with me cutting off his oxygen and Dusty sitting on him, he can’t get the bag off his head, though he does manage to puncture a small hole with his fingernail. It’s not enough for him to regain enough strength to take the upper hand.
Vlad rushing through the opening with Sarge, Reaper, and Dark on his heels is probably the most wonderful sight I’ve ever seen. How did he get here so fast? Dusty, apparently thinking the exact same thing, asks the question out loud. “How’d you get here so fast?”
“Wasn’t far away. Needed more mortar,” he answers as he charges us.
Reaper helps Dusty up while at the same time pulling the gun from her fingers. “Get Nic inside. We got some brothers in the waiting room.” Dusty nods. “No. What I’m saying is don’t go in there, yeah?”
“Okay,” she answers. Dark and Sarge lift Rage’s mostly limp body off of mine, allowing her to help me up.
I get Vlad’s eyes, but no kiss or words of comfort, as we pass by him. The bullet graze stings and burns like a mother. Dusty holds my arm, helping me back inside. We walk to the nearest examination room. She quickly cleans and stitches up the wound. Dirty with tear-streaked faces, we wait.
When Vlad finally comes to collect me, my nerves are frazzled. He engulfs me with his large body. Strangely, I’m not shaking from fear, but a combination of agitation and anger. I hate that asshole got to me and I need to know what’s going on out there.
Before we leave, Vlad leans down to whisper against the top of my head. “That fucker will never hurt you again.” At those words, I sink against him.
Rage will never hurt me again.
Rage would never hurt anyone again.
We almost lost the noob. Shot in the back. If it weren’t for the actions of Nurse Bitty, we would have lost him. She hid under the desk behind the partition glass until Rage left through the rear exit, then she sprang into action. As it turns out, Bitty was a surgeon in her native Russia but was in hiding over here after escaping what she called, “bad business.” Thus, becoming a surgeon in the U.S. was off the table. Too easily tracked.
Though, because of that same “bad business,” calling in the police didn’t sit well with her. A good ally for an MC to have.
Bitty and Dusty along with Vlad and his brothers helped me ready the cabin to begin receiving women in need. I’m glad to have a team rather than doing it alone again. I
tried through various means of temptation to get Vlad to send out a search party of our own for my missing girls, but using every glorious skill in his repertoire, he let me down gently.
“Rage is gone but that doesn’t mean the club is safe yet,” he told me as he sucked on the highly sensitized skin below my earlobe, priming me for the rapture I was about to experience by his mouth, fingers and his legendary dick. His best brothers for the job are the brothers he needs here for the time being, to keep me and the club safe. To keep any new women brought to the cabin safe.
I agreed, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t do it without tears in my eyes. Post mind-blowing, life altering orgasm, that is. His skills were legend for a reason.
Tonight it’s been a month since the attack at Dusty’s office and the noob is getting his patch. The brothers said he’s proved his mettle but they refused to go easy on the kid, granting him the official road name of Green, which in my opinion is only slightly better than just christening him Noob. It basically means the same thing, that he’s young and inexperienced, but with a sexier ring to it.
Green is all smiles, drunker than I’ve ever seen a man get and still be standing. It’s a good thing both Dusty and Nurse Bitty are here to celebrate. I mean, in case of his liver shutting down or something. Bitty’s busy flexing her muscles for the brothers by powerlifting one of the club… I can’t call them pussies like the men do. I’ll call them biscuits because they come around to sop up any attention the brothers give them and go along with anything.
Vlad sits on a stool at the bar shooting the shit with his friends when I saunter past and he snakes out a hand to wrap around my waist, pulling me onto his lap. I throw my head back laughing and loop my arms around his neck to keep me from spilling down onto the floor.
“Nic needs a beer,” he says to Lil’ Boy, who is back playing bartender again for the night. Lil’ Boy turns to the small fridge to grab me a cold one. What a great night. Everyone is having fun.
I feel Vlad’s phone buzz in his pocket. He pulls it out still laughing when he answers, “Yeah?”
Devil's Advocate: Vlad (The Bedlam Horde MC Book 1) Page 18
