by P. Jameson
His kryptonite.
His Achilles Heel.
The one thing he couldn’t say no to, and it had everything to do with his past. With his reason for becoming a doctor in the first place. He wanted to help hurt women. Women who had been taken advantage of. Women who couldn’t help themselves.
Yeah, he had a real goddamn hero complex, didn’t he?
Shit.
Instead, he had patients like Felix Kennedy. Assholes who hardly deserved to be alive. Hell, for all he knew, Felix might be the reason this woman was in the shape she was in. And if that was the case, then his people could never find out he was in the hospital with memory loss.
Another reason for Logan to stick around.
The woman in the bed let off a faint whimper yet didn’t wake. Logan didn’t even know her name. But the little bit of information she did give him painted an ominous picture. She’d been kept away from a doctor. He knew it by the way she’d cringed when he asked, and the way she was desperate to keep away from the hospital. He’d seen this kind of behavior before.
Logan squeezed his eyes shut, putting a hard fist down on the past that threatened to cripple him. Now was not the time.
Gripping the Alley Cat’s cellphone, he stepped into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. This wasn’t going to be easy, but he’d already come up with a plan to help the woman in the bed. He hadn’t lied to the man, he would probably lose his job. Or worse. But he wouldn’t let her lay there and waste away. He was a doctor, damn it. That fucking meant something.
And if it didn’t, well then he wasn’t the man he wanted to be.
He dialed his veterinarian first. It would be the easiest of the conversations he’d have in the next twenty minutes.
After explaining to her that Rowdy, his golden retriever, was a touch dehydrated from a recent gastric event, she promised to call in some fluid bags for him. Luckily, the Ringers used for pets were identical to those used for humans. It wouldn’t be nearly enough for his new patient but it would help get them through the night until he could figure out how to procure some more.
Next, he dialed HR to let them know about his urgent need to take some personal time. Luckily, he caught them just before closing time.
“An emergency, yes. I don’t wish to specify, Margaret.” He rolled his eyes to the ceiling, praying for patience. “No, I will talk to Dr. Breaver when I get back.” Oh, he’d be hearing about this from the chief but it was better than letting another woman slip through the cracks. “Yes, understood. Thank you.”
He hung up, dragging in a deep breath to steady his nerves. This last phone call was going to be the hardest. And it could send all his plans tumbling to ruin. It all depended on the next five minutes.
“Fuck it,” he murmured, quickly dialing the number.
The phone rang so many times he thought—half hoped—it wouldn’t be answered. His hopes soared and dashed all at once as a soft click connected the call.
“Dr. Crest, here.”
“Toya.”
“Dr. Gregory? Oh, I’m glad you called. Our amnesia patient—”
“Are you somewhere private?”
The silence on the end of the line told him she was confused.
“Give me a second,” she said quietly. Seconds later, she returned. “I am now. Dr. Gregory, what’s going on?”
“I need your help, and it has to be off the record. You have to keep this conversation a secret. Someone’s life depends on it.”
She laughed loud through the phone. “Is this some kind of joke? Something you pull on residents?”
“Toya, I’m serious.”
“Look, I know people like to think I’m an easy fool, but I’m not as clueless as people wish, doctor. Now, if you’re finished…”
Shit. Of course this sounded like a prank. He’d have to make her understand.
“Listen to me, Dr. Crest. I need you to do everything I tell you. Follow every instruction to a T. Do not deviate from the plan. Can you do that? If you can do that, then you might save a life tonight.”
“Save a life? Whose?”
“Mine. Now are you ready for your instruct—”
“Yours,” she croaked out. “Doctor, are you in trouble? Should I call the police?”
“Toya,” he barked, “listen to me. Are you ready for your instructions?”
Another tense silence. He ticked off the seconds in his mind, willing her to go along with this.
“Y-yes.”
He breathed out a sigh of relief.
“Okay. Here’s what I need you to do…”
Chapter Five
What the fuck were you thinking?” Skittles hissed, looking over his shoulder as if someone would hear him. “You kidnapped a doctor?”
Smoke sniffed. “No. He’s not a kid, so I didn’t kidnap him.”
Skittles looked like he wanted to burn him to ashes. Fine, as long as he helped him get what Janet needed first.
“You abducted a doctor. Do you know what kind of felony that is? Fuck, man. We’re supposed to be getting better, not worse. And we don’t need this kind of thing right now, when everything is so… fresh.”
For the first time, Smokes felt a twinge of guilt over what he’d done. It was true that if things went sideways with the doctor, it would cast a shadow on the entire clan. With Bastian out of the picture, new assholes would be moving into position to take his place. Between that and the FBI scrutinizing all of the crime lord’s dealings, it meant the Alley Cats needed to stay under the radar.
Not to mention the fact that they were missing a huge piece of what made the clan work.
Felix.
Him being gone left a big hole in their world. Even with Ratchet in charge, clan dynamics were all off kilter. Just last night, there’d been a challenge to his authority. Shooter was having trouble seeing Ratchet as capable of leading the clan the way Felix could. Firecat, or not.
“You have to get him out of here,” Skittles said. “Now. And make sure he can’t find his way back.” He turned to leave, but then doubled back. “That didn’t come out the way I meant it. Make sure he gets home safely and remind him he should keep quiet about this accident. I’ll have Nyla dig up some dirt on him in case he decides to go to the police.”
Smokes huffed out a long breath. He could use a cig right about now.
“He’s not going anywhere. I brought him here for a reason.”
“I can’t imagine a reason good enough. Shit, Ratchet is going to have your ass for this.”
Smokes stared at the ground. His ass was definitely on the line. He was going to have to get real clear with his brothers… and quickly. Damn it, he didn’t want to confess the things that had happened since freeing the Dolls. Didn’t want anyone knowing that Janet was important to him.
But there was no getting around it, was there? She would start showing soon, and people would wonder why he was sticking so close.
It was time to come clean.
“It’s… it’s Janet. She’s sick.”
Skittles frowned, his chin dipping low enough that the bright tattoos on his neck were obscured. “Sick. Why hasn’t she told anyone?”
Smokes brushed his hand across his jaw, trying to form the words. “She’s uh… she’s pregnant.”
He looked up in time to watch Skittles’s eyebrows lift into his forehead. “She’s with child? Fucking hell, man. What were you thinking? Is she yours or did you just…?” Smokes could feel the hot blast of anger as Skittles’s eyes flickered with the evidence of his Firecat. The Firecats protected the females. All of them, even if they only bonded to one. “Tell me you didn’t force yourself on her.”
Smokes saw red. Red like the color of a burning ember. And before he knew it, he had Skittles by the throat, pressed against the wall, eye to eye so he could see the truth for himself.
“I would never fucking do that,” Smokes snarled, his voice sounding distant and barely human.
Skittles’s gaze narrowed and Smokes could feel the Fi
recat in him writhing beneath the surface, wanting out, wanting to fight. Good thing Skittles was smart. Think first. He’d been trained to do that.
“Are you at least bonded? Shit.”
“No. Luckily.” Smokes released him, to pace the small hallway. “And I don’t ever plan on it.”
Skittles went still. As if Smokes’s declaration shocked him to the core. “You get her pregnant and you don’t want to bond with her?”
Smokes jerked to a stop to stare at the cat. “I…” The asshole thought the baby was his? He thought Smokes had carelessly taken one of the Dolls and used her and left her with his child inside her. Fuck… didn’t Skittles know him better than that?
No. Skittles did know him. That was the problem.
He knew that Smokes had done a lot of fucked up things in the past. He’d hurt people. Hurt his brothers, in the name of clan. He’d threatened helpless females. He’d taken part in the ruin of others. He’d stolen, used, abused. He was a grand piece of shit, even if he hadn’t started out that way.
He remembered a time when he had tried to defend. Protect ones younger and more innocent than him. Ratchet and Fang and Weaver and more. He’d tried to be a shield against the Fathers’ cruel claws. Lied for them. Taken beatings for them. Given his skin to try and spare them.
He’d never succeeded back then. Why would it be any different now?
Why would Skittles see him any other way?
He stared at the man. “It’s my business. She is my business. Not yours. All you need to know is I will do whatever I must to take care of her. She needs a doctor, I brought her one. That doctors says he needs things to help her, you will help me get those things.”
Skittles looked down the hall, thinking. Smokes knew by the way he ran his tongue over his front teeth. He wondered if Skittles was even aware of the tic. “We need to tell the others. Can’t keep a secret like this.”
“I promised Janet I wouldn’t say anything until she was ready.” And he didn’t like the idea of betraying that vow. She depended on him. It wasn’t right to not be… safe for her. Even if it was in this way, with his words.
“I get it, man. But this affects us all. With everything the way it is now… fuck, we can’t put the clan in this position blindly.”
Smokes lifted his chin. He wouldn’t betray her. Not her.
“I will take her from here then. We will leave and find help another way.”
Skittles held up both hands in a placating gesture. “Whoa. Slow down there.” His eyes narrowed in a knowing way. “I understand. Talk to her. Tell her the clan needs to know. Get her permission.”
Permission? Fuck that. Smokes didn’t ask permission for anything. “I don’t need permission—”
“Really?” Skittles smirked, one eyebrow quirking in humor. “What’s the holdup then?”
Smokes opened his mouth to answer… but he came up with nothing. Fucking nothing.
Smartass had him. He needed Jan’s permission before he could tell the others. Why? Because he had promised to keep her secret, and that promise meant something to his fucked up heart.
He couldn’t break it.
With a frustrated growl, he turned to stomp down the stairs, passing Weaver along the way.
“Gonna need your help tonight,” he snarled, not stopping to measure the man’s answer.
“Nope. Not getting my hands dirty for you.”
“I outrank you, fucker,” Smokes called over his shoulder. “So that’s an order. Also, fuck you.”
“No thanks,” Weaver muttered. “Not my type.”
At the end of the hall, Smoke’s slipped into Janet’s room, finding her alone there. He was about to tear the place apart, looking for the doctor when the man exited the bathroom, cell phone in hand.
Shit.
Smokes sucked in a breath to cover up the panic that lived in his blood.
“It’s done,” Dr. Gregory said, handing the phone back to him. “My shifts are covered, and I know a way to get us through until your man can get what we need.”
“Which is what exactly?”
The doctor sighed. “I’ll make a list. But we have to start her on IV fluids as soon as possible.”
Smokes swallowed the lump those words left in his throat and let his eyes roam over Janet where she lied on the bed, limp and pale. “How do we do that?”
“I called my vet. Gave her a story about my dog being dehydrated. She bought it.”
Smokes scowled. “Your dog? You’re going to give my mat—” No. Don’t use that word out loud. “Janet. You’re going to give Janet dog medicine?”
“Relax,” Dr. Gregory said. “It’s not medicine. It’s Lactated Ringers. Fluids. Electrolytes and stuff. To take care of the dehydration from the vomiting. And it’s the same solution whether it’s used for dogs or humans. It’s going to hydrate her, not turn her into a werewolf.”
Werewolf. How ironic. If the doctor only knew he was in a building full of werecats.
“It’s safe?”
“Perfectly so.”
“Fine.”
Smokes went to stand over Janet’s bed. He needed to wake her. Ask her permission to tell the others that she was sick and carrying a young. Damn, he didn’t want to have this conversation. Not the one with her, and not the one he’d have with his clan.
Eventually, he’d have to tell them he wasn’t responsible for her pregnancy, but the idea frustrated him. Sure, he didn’t like them thinking he had taken advantage of her. But he also didn’t want them knowing her baby wasn’t his.
Why?
Fucking why did it matter?
Because you wish it was. You wish you could have a family with her.
No. No, it wasn’t that.
It couldn’t be.
It was… it was because if they thought the baby was his, he could better protect her. Yeah, that made more sense than the alternative.
“Jan,” he tried quietly. “Jan, wake up.”
But she didn’t respond.
He looked to the doctor, who responded by rolling his eyes. “Louder. She’s exhausted.”
Smokes frowned. The last thing he wanted to do was startle her.
He lowered himself to his knees beside the bed, easing as close to her as he dared.
More, his animal whispered.
No.
But his hand ignored his mind and drifted up to sweep the long black strands of hair from her cheeks. “Jan. Wake up now. We need to talk.”
Slowly, her eyes came open to focus on him. He’d give anything to not have to do what he was about to do.
“We need to tell the clan about the baby.”
Her expression crumpled with shame but he charged forward.
“We need help, Jan. And having the doc here is dangerous. We have to tell them, so they can help. There’s no other choice. Unless… unless you want to try the hospital.”
She shook her head, tears already forming in her eyes.
“What will they think of me?” she cried. Smokes watched a single tear make a track down her cheek, and somehow, it was sadder than if there’d been a thousand.
“They’ll think nothing bad,” he vowed. “They will think the baby is mine, that we’ve mated. They won’t know the truth.”
Shit. What was he doing? He hadn’t meant to say that. The clan would learn the truth when he didn’t mate her. Eventually their lies would unravel, as all lies do.
“You would do that for me?”
If it meant she received the help she so desperately needed, then hell yes.
Instead of trusting his voice or words, he only nodded.
“I don’t know…” her voice drifted out as her eyes rolled backward.
“Janet.”
When they opened again, it was like she’d never left. “I don’t know if this is a good idea, Smokes. What if… what if…”
He curved his hand around her cheek, partly to keep her head from lolling, but mostly hoping he could comfort her. Give her peace the way she did him, wit
hout even knowing.
“I need you to trust me right now, dove. I won’t let anything happen to you. But you have to trust me. We will tell the others about the baby and then Dr. Gregory here can get the supplies he needs to help you. Got it? Do you agree?”
Her eyes rolled shut again as she gave a slight nod. “Yessh,” she whispered.
Then she went limp once more.
And the strange beast inside him roared in the distant places of his mind.
Smokes ignored it.
Chapter Six
The rumble of frustrated males filled the room until Smokes was forced to grind his teeth to keep his own mouth shut. His brothers weren’t happy that another of the Dolls was pregnant. They were even more pissed that she was unmated. And thoroughly riled that he’d kept the information a secret from them.
Oddly enough, they hardly cared about him abducting the doctor.
“Oh, fuck off,” Smokes snarled. “Would any of you have given away a secret that could weaken your—” Mate. He’d almost said it. Almost claimed her before the entire clan.
Shit.
The room quieted and he couldn’t escape Ratchet’s piercing scowl. “Is she yours?” he asked quietly. He didn’t need to raise his voice to demand an answer. He was the most powerful of them all.
But Smokes didn’t like being pushed around. Never had.
“I don’t know yet.” Lies. But his secret had to stay locked inside him.
“Your baby is in her,” Ratchet snapped. “You’d better fucking figure it out.”
“Fine,” Smokes gritted. “But in the meantime, can I get some fucking cooperation? The doctor—”
“The one you and Weaver kidnapped.”
“Excuse the fuck me,” Weaver interrupted. “I didn’t kidnap no-fucking-body.”
“You were driving the truck,” Ratchet snarled.
“What was I supposed to do? Get out and make Smokes drive back to the warehouse so I couldn’t be implicated? As the asshole has already reminded me, he outranks me. Besides what kind of pussy move is that?”
“You trying to tell me you let Smokes push you into stealing the doc? Bullshit.”
