Striker: No Prisoners MC Book 1

by Lilly Atlas

  Behind her, Striker laughed. “Ouch, Doc, way to hit the man when he’s down.”

  Lila chuckled. She always had fun when these guys were here. “Okay let’s get down to business so you can get out of here, and ignore my instructions by mixing your pain killers with booze.” She grabbed the bottle of sterile saline off the cart, and irrigated the wound. Gumby hissed out a curse. “Sorry, Gumby. I can’t see exactly how deep it is unless I clean out the blood. There’s a chance you have an orbital fracture. I recommend a CT.”

  He shook his head. “Just close it up.”

  Surprise, surprise. “Sometimes you guys are very annoying.”

  They all laughed, and she used the lidocaine to deaden the area around the wound. When he was numb, she ripped open the suture kit and got to work. Lila could feel Striker’s eyes on her back and she had to concentrate to keep her hands from quivering like a third year medical student. Thankfully they remained quiet, allowing her to focus, and in ten minutes Gumby’s wound was closed, the stitch job quite impressive, if she did say so herself.

  “Okay, Gumby, you are the proud new recipient of fifteen stitches. I’ll have a nurse bring you something for the pain. It will hurt like a bitch when the lidocaine wears off. The nurse will also have your discharge instructions. You can leave when she’s done.”

  Lila knew how they operated, and didn’t expect a single instruction to be followed, but protocol was protocol and she’d obey it. As she turned to leave the room, her gaze collided with Striker’s. His heated stare affected her more than she was prepared to admit so she shifted her gaze and broke the connection. Neither said anything as she left the room, but she felt the lingering effects of having him so near in her racing heart and wobbly legs.

  Her shift was officially over, and she could go home as soon as Gumby’s paperwork was complete. Now she just needed to get Striker off her mind long enough to finish her proposal and still get some sleep tonight.

  Chapter Two

  Striker prowled the half-full waiting room while he waited for Gumby to emerge. He spotted Lila behind a desk to the right of the admissions counter, typing away on a computer that looked like it should have been replaced ten years ago.

  He should leave. Jester could stay with Gumby, and he could go meet up with the rest of his brothers at the party he was missing. The only reason he stuck around was because Lila drew him like a junkie to the needle.

  It was pointless. Lila was the marrying type, not the type to fuck a biker once or twice. And that’s all it would be. Striker didn’t do anything more than that. As vice president of the MC there was no shortage of women eager to bang him, and that’s exactly how he liked it. Someday he’d be president, and maybe he’d consider getting an ol’ lady then, but there was no point in it now. He had all the easy pussy he wanted, but he had to admit the challenge of getting into Lila’s pants was appealing.

  The emergency room at Desert Community Hospital was often surprisingly busy for such a small town, but tonight was a pretty slow night. Taking a rare moment to study the doctor without her knowledge, he wondered, not for the first time, what the hell she was doing in his Podunk town.

  Lila seemed so much…bigger than Crystal Rock, Arizona, a tiny, off the grid desert town known for its one percenter motorcycle gang. True, a portion of the town rested along a gorgeous lake, an oasis in the hot desert that was a tourist attraction. But for whatever reason, possibly the MC, their town wasn’t included in the area where tourists flocked. Hell, Crystal Rock didn’t even boast a motel for travelers to stay.

  The first word that popped into his head whenever he looked at Lila was, classy. Her clothes gave the impression they cost her a good few bucks, and even in her scrubs she gave off an air of sophistication. When she was working, she kept her long dark hair neatly pulled into a tight bun at the top of her head. The look was supposed to be professional, but it exposed the smooth skin of her neck, and Striker wished he could lean in and nibble her elegant jaw. Striker’s fantasies about the sexy doctor often began with him yanking that bun out and tangling his fingers in her thick dark hair so he could pull her head back and feast on her mouth.

  Jester strode into the waiting area, and Striker lifted a hand to catch his attention. Conversation among the five or so patients waiting to be seen came to a dead halt, similar to when he and his brothers first arrived. Jester often had that effect on a room.

  “Should be about fifteen minutes. Nurse Cammie got stuck bringing Gumby his pills and showing him how to take care of his boo-boo. I figured I’d step out and give them a few minutes alone.” He grinned and rubbed his hands together as though Gumby’s further discomfort pleased him.

  “Not sure who will hate you more for that one, Gumby or the redhead.”

  Jester snorted. “Gonna go out and have a smoke. You coming?”

  “Nah, I’ll hang here.”

  After shooting him a curious look, Jester shrugged and made his way outside. Striker saw him through the window, near the bikes.

  Striker turned his attention back to Lila. Damn she was just plain hot as fuck. There hadn’t been a legitimate reason to stay in the room while she stitched up Gumby, yet as soon as she bent over the table to work on his face, Striker got a close up view of her tight ass and decided to stay for the show.

  Even the baggy lab coat and scrubs couldn’t disguise what a luscious ass it was. Lila was tiny, couldn’t have been more than a few inches above five feet. They teased her often about her miniscule stature when she was fixing up one of his guys. Most of them were fairly big men, and she looked like a child when she was surrounded by them.

  Maybe child wasn’t the right word, seeing as how he never failed to notice she was all woman. Despite the fact that she was short, she had a banging body, with a tight, curvy figure he wanted to run his hands, and mouth, over. The few times he’d seen her out of scrubs, he’d had to clench his teeth to keep his tongue from lolling out and panting after her like the dog he was.

  What was new for him was the fact that he admired her, as a person, not just her body. She was intelligent, quick witted, and, in the few months she’d lived in Crystal Rock, her combination of compassion and skill as a physician had earned her the respect of the entire town. Striker didn’t meet many women of her caliber; the ones he met were in the market for a good party and a good fuck.

  From where he sat, Striker could see Lila’s face, drawn in concentration. She shook her head at the computer before a smile lit her features, and she increased the speed of her hands on the keyboard. She was probably putting the finishing touches on her upcoming proposal for the school board.

  As he watched her type, he couldn’t help but check out her breasts in the snug black shirt she had on. It was warm in the ER, and she had shed her white coat and rested it on the seat back behind her. For some reason tonight she had scrub pants on, but not a scrub top. Her breasts were just the size he preferred, slightly more than a generous handful, and he had to bite back a groan as he imagined what she had on under her professional attire.

  Fuck, another second of those thoughts and he’d be stuck standing in the waiting area with a telltale tent in his jeans. Striker decided he’d stroll over to the desk, and see what trouble he could get into with the doc.

  “So, Doc, you think my boy’s gonna live?”

  Lila jumped when the deep voice rumbled above her. She was two sentences away from completing the in-depth proposal documents, and had been so focused on her task, the rest of the room blurred into background noise. Concentration broken, she peered up at Striker, and there was no way to miss where his gaze was directed. He slowly lifted his eyes to meet hers. Not an ounce of repentance showed on his face for the fact that she’d caught him blatantly checking her out.

  Unfortunately, instead of feeling insulted, her body reacted to him as it always did, growing warm and flushed. Her breath caught as she looked at his handsome face, and his question fled her brain.

  Lila saved her document and closed out th
e program, using the task to buy her a moment to remember what it was he asked her.

  “Doc?” Striker lifted one eyebrow and smirked. “You okay?”

  She coughed in an attempt hide the chuckle that escaped at her teenage behavior. Thankfully Anna was focused on assisting a patient with their paperwork, and didn’t seem to be aware of the awkward conversation taking place just ten feet away. Lila could feel her face heating, and knew it had to be red. The way she flushed was the bane of her existence, always betraying her emotions. “Oh, um, yes,” she sputtered. Smooth, very smooth. He’d find her inarticulate ramblings attractive for sure, not that she was trying to attract him. “Gumby will be fine. Back to normal in no time, and ready to have his face smashed in all over again.”

  Striker barked out a laugh. “Bit of a smartass there, aren’t you, Doc?”

  “Well, I call it as I—”

  An eager voice Lila knew well interrupted them. “Oh, Doctor Emerson, I’m so glad you’re working tonight.”

  She sighed, and couldn’t hold back a tiny groan of annoyance. Would she ever get out of here tonight? Embarrassed by the unprofessional reaction, she glanced at Striker to see if he’d noticed her blunder. If the grin on his face was any indication, he had. There probably wasn’t much that slipped by him.

  Lila slid her professional mask on, and looked at the man who had stepped up to the desk holding a bag of ice and a towel over his left hand. Mr. White was about forty, average height for a man, which was much taller than Lila’s five-foot-two, and he was a bit overweight. Despite his larger size, his clothing always looked too big for him. Greasy, mud-brown hair sat atop his head, and thick glasses rimmed his eyes.

  White was a frequent flyer, a patient who visited the ER nearly once a week for myriad complaints, many of which proved to be benign. Each time he came in he refused to be treated by any doctor other than Lila. In fact, he basically refused to speak to anyone in the ER aside from her, including the receptionist. Everyone who worked there was familiar with him, and gave his eccentricities a pass. He may have a little crush on her, and Lila tried to be sweet to the man who was often so alone.

  The problem was, his visits often proved to be a waste of her time and he tended to drag out each encounter, adding extra concerns to his initial complaint once she was ready to discharge him. It was almost always a Friday or a Saturday night that he came in, and she had the impression the poor man used the hospital as a way to have the attention and social interaction he probably lacked otherwise.

  “Yes, Mr. White, I’m working tonight. Looks like you hurt yourself there.” Lila tried to be patient and keep the frustration out of her voice. The evening had been pleasant so far, and she just wasn’t in the mood to deal with what had the potential to be hours of Mr. White. As usual, he’d avoided the receptionist and ignored the other staff in the hospital.

  “Oh yes, Dr. Emerson, I did indeed. I was making dinner for my mother—you know how I do that every Friday because her hands aren’t what they used to be—and the knife slipped.” His green eyes welled and his lower lip quivered. “I think it needs stitches, and I’m so worried they’ll hurt, but now that I see you’re here I can relax. You’re the best, and I know you’ll take good care of me. I’ve never been to a doctor as gentle and skilled as you are.”

  Lila resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Mr. White was the polar opposite of her previous patient. Gumby hadn’t flinched when she’d injected the anesthetic right into his open wound, and Mr. White was as fearful as a young child. He might even expect a lollipop before he was discharged.

  The overblown compliments only served to embarrass her, especially since Striker failed to give them any kind of privacy. She risked a glance in Striker’s direction, and found a wide grin on his handsome face.

  “I agree.” His eyes glittered with mirth and he did a poor job of steeling his features. “While I can’t comment on all the doctor’s skills…I can say she’s an excellent physician.”

  Okay, time to end this encounter before her face caught fire. Striker’s teasing did not help the situation. Right now she was sure her face could have passed for a tomato, it was so warm. Lila narrowed her eyes at Striker, and shifted her attention over to Mr. White. His pupils were dilated wide, and his body was rigid as he stared at the taller man adjacent to him. Striker hovered, muscular, handsome, and very alpha male. Humble Mr. White probably felt inadequate in his presence.

  “Mr. White, why don’t you wait in the first treatment room over there.” She gestured in the direction of the room as she spoke. “I’ll be right in to examine your hand.”

  With a last, timid look at Striker, Mr. White thanked her profusely, and made his way down the hall, cradling his injured hand.

  Lila turned her attention back to a snickering Striker. “You need to behave yourself,” she admonished, but couldn’t keep her own smile off her face.

  “What can I say, Doc? You’re fun to tease. You better go. You wouldn’t want to keep the president of your fan club waiting. I’m gonna go check on my boy. See you around, Doc.” He threw a wink her way as he ambled off.

  This was the first time she had really spoken to Striker one on one, and she got the distinct impression he was flirting with her. That could pose a big problem. Despite what her rational side told her about not getting involved with a bad boy with whom there was no future, he’d be nearly impossible to resist if he ever decided to act on those smoldering glances.

  Chapter Three

  Lila stood, and slipped her lab coat back on. Might as well get on with it, the sooner she tended to Mr. White, the quicker he’d be gone, and she could finally conclude this never-ending night. Her shift had been officially over twenty minutes ago. Such was the life of an ER physician.

  When she reached the treatment room, Lila raised a fist and placed a soft knock on the door. “Mr. White? It’s Dr. Emerson. May I come in?”

  “Oh, of course, Dr. Emerson.”

  She entered the room, and found him seated on the plinth, tapping his foot against the leg. The towel, loosely wrapped around his hand, remained stark white, without a trace of blood. As she approached him, Lila indicated the towel. “May I?”

  He nodded his consent and gave her a beaming smile. After she pulled on gloves, Lila peeled the towel back from his hand. A clean slice split about a half-inch length of skin across the hairy knuckle of his middle finger. Lila probed around the wound, and asked Mr. White to flex and extend his finger. The joint moved fluidly, all tendons intact. The wound itself was shallow, and there was minimal edema of the knuckle. It was as she expected, the laceration was no longer bleeding, and hadn’t warranted a physician’s attention.

  “I heard about your idea to implement a concussion and safety program for the high school sports teams, Dr. Emerson. I think it’s such a wonderful idea. With all that you already do for our community by working here and being the best doctor in town, I can’t believe you have the time for extra selfless projects. When the school board gives you the green light, and I know they will, I’d like to be on the team that works with you to implement the program.”

  The idea of Mr. White on her task force was not an appealing one, but she didn’t have a clue how to discourage the notion without insulting the poor man. Thankfully he didn’t seem to notice her predicament and continued speaking. “It’s a bad cut isn’t it? I knew I did the right thing by coming straight here. How many stitches do you think it needs?”

  Her head spun at his rapidly fired questions, and Lila did her best to humor him. “It’s a doozy, Mr. White, however I don’t think it will require any stitches. I’ll get it cleaned up and bandaged, and you can be on your way.”

  “Oh, okay, Lila, if you’re sure that’s all it needs.” He frowned as though disappointed with the news. “Hey, is everything all right with you tonight?”

  Taken aback by the change of subject, and the use of her first name, Lila stopped working and looked at him. “Me? I’m great. Why do you ask?”

 
His face flushed, and he twisted the towel in his uninjured hand. “Well, I saw who you were talking to. Do you realize who that was?”

  “Do you mean Striker?”

  “Yes, he’s the vice president of that motorcycle club. He’s not a good man. That gang is a bunch of dangerous criminals. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “It’s nice of you to want to look out for me, but don’t worry. I’m perfectly fine.”

  He took a deep breath in, as though gathering courage, and looked directly into her eyes. “Would you like to go to dinner sometime?”

  Lila swallowed the groan that threatened to crawl from her throat. The man was all over the place tonight. This was not what she wanted to deal with, but she had been expecting it for a while. He never spoke of any people in his life besides his mother, and she knew she had to tread carefully to avoid hurting his fragile feelings. “Mr. White, it is so sweet of you to ask, but you are my patient, and it would be unethical.” There, that was succinct, clear and professional.

  A look of sadness crossed his features, but the conversation couldn’t be continued because shouts from the lobby diverted their attention. Agitated male voices filtered through the door causing Lila to grow concerned. What the hell was going on? Was it a patient hopped up on drugs? She hoped not, those situations were always precarious, and tended to unnerve staff as well as other patients. “Mr. White I need to check on all that noise. Please sit tight for a few minutes, and I’ll be back to get you fixed up so you can return home.”

  Lila swung the door open, and marched toward the waiting area, only to come to a dead stop at the scene before her.