Doc T (Macha MC Book 1)

by Skye McNeil

  “Thank God.”

  They both laughed, and then Queenie looked at the large clock on the wall. “You going to be all right down here by yourself?” Isa nodded. “All right. Rubble and a few prospects are over in the tech tower, but they’ll check in on ya. Night.”

  She waved goodnight before returning to her stretches and turning her music to a local pop station. Normally she’d go to bed, but with Doc gone, she couldn’t close her eyelids until he was safely in her arms.

  After another ten minutes of limbering her limbs, Isa made her way to the kitchen. With a catchy Maroon 5 song blaring in her ears, she flicked on the light switch and frowned when nothing happened. She tried it again with the same result. Immediately, she wondered if the storm cut out the power.

  Pulling out one earbud, she listened to her surroundings. A creak of wood sent her heart pumping.

  “Hello?” She poked her nose out of the kitchen and glanced around the lodge. “Anyone there?” Several other lights shone in the darkness, but no response came. Odd. When no other sounds met her, she chalked it up to faulty wiring and her overactive imagination.

  Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, she opened it and turned. A scream caught in her throat at the sight of three bulky men towering around her. She dropped the bottle, water splashing up and hitting her leg.

  “If it isn’t the Macha princess herself,” one of the men said, his Irish accent prevalent.

  Before she could react, a beefy hand clapped over her mouth. Another face came into view, and her eyes bugged. He was so familiar, but she couldn’t place him. That man hoisted her off the ground. She struggled at the sudden restraints on her wrists and bit her captor’s palm to no avail.

  Oh God. This is how I’ll die!

  She couldn’t remember leaving the lodge, but the distinct smell of blood stayed with her long after she passed out.

  33

  Doc

  It wasn’t good. The rain completely washed out the right shoulder of the mountain highway and sent Cueball and Snoopy off the road. By the time they arrived, Cueball had pushed his motorcycle back up on the main highway and a red flare sat next to him. He stood with his hands on his hips, his body completely coated in mud.

  Judging from the matching bike, Cueball was lucky, laying his bike down just before he tipped over the edge.

  “You okay?” Doc asked, hopping out of the pickup, medical bag in hand. Hawk clambered out of the driver side and went to the truck bed for supplies.

  Rain steadily fell as his brother reached him. “Yeah. Got cut up, but I’ll be fine.”

  Doc cautiously touched Cueball’s head. A large gash above his left eyebrow needed stitches, but otherwise he didn’t look half bad, given the circumstances. “Could’ve been worse,” he finally said. “I’ll patch you up when we get to the lodge.”

  They moved closer to the edge, and Hawk whistled low. “Shit, looks like the truck rolled a few times. The windshield’s shattered.”

  Peering through the rain, Doc caught sight of the truck bashed against a fallen tree. One wrong move and both would fall down the side of the mountain to a rocky fate below.

  Hawk hooked up the winch to the truck, then tied the rope around his waist. “I’ll check on Snoop and the kids.”

  “We got your back, brother,” he said, grateful Cueball took over manning the winch. It freed him up to help Hawk with the kids.

  Hawk carefully slid down the embankment, mud clinging to him by the time he reached the red truck. He spoke with Snoopy, their words drowned out by the storm overhead. Doc stood patiently at the top, ready to move when he was called. He’d packed extra medical supplies in his bag, always prepared for the worst. The local ambulance was on its way but wouldn’t get there in time if someone needed immediate assistance.

  Finally, Hawk opened the passenger door, and a small body scurried out before the door closed again. He whistled and tugged on the rope. Slowly the winch started to wind, Hawk carefully walking up the side of the slippery slope.

  When he was closer, Doc saw the issue. The child nestled against Hawk’s chest wasn’t moving. Doc grabbed the rope and met Hawk halfway.

  “Snoop said he ate one of the granola bars in the truck and started blowing up like a balloon. I think it’s an allergic reaction,” Hawk relayed, handing off the boy no older than three.

  Working fast, Doc checked for a pulse and hurried back up the muddy incline while Hawk stayed behind. Reaching the top, he settled the boy on the ground and immediately grabbed an EpiPen.

  “C’mon, little guy,” he urged, jabbing the pen in the boy’s leg. Rain dripped down his face, blurring his vision.

  Finally the boy gasped a lungful of air, and Doc sighed with relief.

  “Hey, buddy,” he said softly. “You’re gonna be all right. Let’s get you in the truck, okay?”

  The child’s bright blue eyes shone back at him with a mixture of panic and uncertainty. He didn’t utter a word, merely nodded his understanding.

  Once Doc stabilized the youngster in the truck, he returned to the real issue at hand. Mud slid down the hill at rapid speed now, and Snoopy’s truck creaked with movement. Jumping into the middle of the problem, he raced down to the truck and helped Hawk secure the winch.

  “Hit it!” Hawk called amid a thunderclap.

  The winch groaned at the heavy load, and he started to panic when Snoopy’s truck barely moved. “Try the engine again.”

  Snoopy cranked the key, but only sputtering echoed among the raindrops. “Shit!”

  Doc exchanged a worried glance with Hawk. If they couldn’t get the truck back on the road soon, the mudslide would take it down the mountain instead. Snoopy kept trying, but the only sound that came from the truck was the biker’s cursing.

  Waving to Hawk, he waited until the other man neared. “We gotta evacuate them or they’re not making it to breakfast.”

  Hawk’s eyes snapped between the truck and the steep incline. “We can’t unhitch the truck or it’ll slip.”

  “Then we need Cueball to keep the winch on and we’ll take the kids up one at a time.”

  “All right, let’s do it.” Thunder boomed overhead, and Hawk wiped rain from his brow. “And fast. I don’t like how this night’s going. I’ve got a bad feeling.”

  “Same, brother, same.” Doc took the first child and scaled the slope, keeping a steady grip on the winch’s rope. Once he safely handed off the little girl to Cueball, he met Hawk halfway up with a boy in his arms.

  Ten minutes later, Hawk was on the last run, and Doc patted the truck hood. “You’re up, Snoop.” He frowned when the man didn’t respond. Rounding the truck, he checked for a pulse and gritted his teeth when a weak one met him. He opened the door and immediately saw the issue. After the truck rolled, a piece of the dash broke, and a shard stuck in Snoopy’s leg. Blood dripped down the chair and pooled on the rubber mats below.

  “Fuck.” Doc reached over and grabbed a towel from the passenger side, then followed the blood to its origin wound. He swore again at the recognizable femoral artery. Medical training surged in his mind. Untreated femoral injuries could lead to death, and he wasn’t about ready to let that happen on his watch.

  He rummaged through the glovebox and found a box of bullets. This’ll work. Fixing it wouldn’t happen then and there, but he could plug the bleeding until the ambulance arrived. Moving fast, he whipped out his knife and cut the jeans around the wound. The plastic sticking in Snoopy’s leg was plugging the artery and limiting blood loss, but it needed to be removed in order to get him out of the truck.

  He broke open the bullets and poured them in the empty box. Recalling his emergency training, he searched the cab for a lighter. “Of all days to forget your light,” he muttered, checking Snoopy’s pockets only to come up empty.

  Stepping away from the truck, he whistled and waved at Hawk to help him. Within a few minutes, the two were ready for the cauterization.

  “And you’re sure this’ll work?” Hawk asked
, hands ready to pry the shard out of Snoopy’s leg.

  He flicked on the lighter. “It’s the best shot he has.”

  Hawk paused, then nodded. “All right. Here goes nothing.”

  In one swift movement, Hawk yanked the plastic out of Snoopy’s leg, causing the man to jerk to consciousness. Doc moved fast and poured a thin layer of gunpowder on the wound, then held the lighter over the powder. Hawk held Snoopy down when he started to thrash against the pain. Once the powder sealed, Doc quickly placed a damp rag over the wound to put out the flame.

  Snoopy’s body went slack, and they carefully pulled him out of the truck. The wind picked up, and Doc held tight to the winch rope as Hawk slowly carried Snoopy up the slope on his back.

  Once they were at the top, he waited for a signal from Cueball to unhook the truck. After trying for five minutes, he cursed at the tight rope. It wouldn’t budge. Rain slicked his hands and he shook his head. The winch wouldn’t come loose.

  “Doc, the mud’s getting faster,” Hawk yelled from the ledge.

  His eyes flicked to the hill and he gritted his teeth. The mudslide was quickly picking up speed. If he didn’t hightail it to the road, he may never make it.

  Abandoning the truck, he grabbed the winch and trudged through the mud. He lost his footing a few times but managed to crest the hill. Cueball and Hawk grabbed his hands and pulled him the rest of the way.

  The truck on the road groaned at the winch, and Cueball hurried over to it. Grabbing an axe from the bed, he swung hard, and the thick rope flung out noisily.

  The three peered over the edge and watched the fallen tree give way. The truck slipped next, slowly moving toward the edge. The loud crash of metal echoed alongside the thunder, and a strike of lightning flashed as the truck came to a stop at the bottom and burst into flames.

  “Shit, that was a close one,” Hawk stated, clapping his back.

  The flashing lights of the ambulance reached them, and they all sighed at the sight. “Let’s get back to the lodge,” Cueball said, smiling for the first time that night. “I think we’ve earned a drink.”

  Doc grinned, and after filling in the paramedics on Snoopy and the small boy, he jumped in the truck and they started the trip back to their haven. He’d cheated death once more.

  The night can’t get worse.

  He buckled his seat belt and smiled. Isa’s pretty face was the only one he wanted to see the rest of the night.

  34

  Doc

  The storm tapered off slightly by the time they reached the lodge. Walking up the driveway, distant rumbles told Doc the night hadn’t seen its last flash of lightning. Cueball and Hawk joshed with each other, the mood light. After the near-death experiences earlier, he was all for a good vibe. One of the nymphs collected the children and hurried them in the side door, promising chocolate ice cream after baths.

  As he neared the front door, the light above it flickered. His gut dropped at the sight. He’d helped Rubble replace all the bulbs last week, and they had two backup generators. There was no reason for the flashing unless something happened. He eyed the rest of the lodge but didn’t spy any other flickers.

  The front door swung open, catching the trio off guard. Reaper filled the doorway, brows furrowed and gun drawn. He eyed his men and lowered the gun.

  “She’s gone,” he shouted, his loud voice booming across the open air.

  For a moment, Doc’s brain didn’t compute the words.

  “Who?” Hawk asked, his gun in his hand.

  Cueball glanced around the darkness. “What happened?”

  Reaper bounded down the outside steps and placed both hands on Doc’s shoulders. “The Twelve Brothers have Isa.”

  A wave of nausea pounded Doc, and his dinner threatened a reappearance. He swallowed it and tightly clenched his jaw. “No. She was safe here. We made sure,” he said through his teeth. He wouldn’t believe his MC failed to protect someone.

  Patches and prospect alike poured out of the house from all exits. Rubble looked ready to kill someone, blood streaming down the side of his head. Evidently, Doc wasn’t the only one who wanted to commit murder in that moment.

  “What the fuck happened?” he barked, breaking out of Reaper’s grip. He stalked over to Rubble and swung hard. His fist connected with the bigger man, and he cursed at the pain.

  Brewer and Boulder pulled him away before another punch could be handed out.

  “Calm down, Doc,” Brewer said, fighting to keep him from the sergeant at arms.

  Rubble wiped blood from his mouth, his eyes fierce. “They jumped us in the tower. Two prospects are still out. I fought them, but they had more muscle than we did.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Doc. This is my fault.”

  “How did they get in?” Reaper asked.

  By now the entire Macha crew stood in the driveway, rain spitting on them. They exchanged glances, no one uttering a word. The fact that another MC infiltrated their haven unsettled every last one of them.

  Finally, Klink piped up. “Where’s Shovelhead?”

  Each member perused the group, but their VP was nowhere to be found.

  “Is he with a nymph?” Hawk asked.

  Dolly shook her head. “The girls and I searched the house with Queenie. He wasn’t there.”

  Reaper let out a low growl and pulled out his gun again. “That’s how the Twelve got in so easily. They had an inside man.”

  Adrenaline coursed through Doc’s body, but he tampered the urge to body-slam someone. He couldn’t lose control.

  “The Twelve Brothers won’t kill her,” Rubble stated, stepping into the middle of the group. “She’s too important.”

  He nodded, no words forming to fit the situation. Losing Isa would destroy him. He wouldn’t let it come to that. “What do we do?”

  Reaper exchanged a glance with his sergeant. “They’ll contact us soon with their demands,” the president stated. “Rubble’s right. Isa is too important to harm.”

  “Klink, Cueball, search the lodge and make sure it’s airtight. I don’t want another motherfucker sneaking in here ever again,” Rubble shouted. “Hawk, check on the kids you brought in and make sure the old ladies are taken through the north tunnel to the safe house on the other side of the mountain. Take a prospect with you to stay there with them until you’re relieved.”

  Reaper pulled Doc aside while Rubble barked orders. When push came to shove, the big man wasn’t to be trifled with, and they all knew it.

  “Are you okay?”

  Doc shot him an incredulous glare. “Am I okay? How the fuck do you think I am? My club failed tonight.” He broke away from Reaper and ran his hands through his hair. “Our VP sold us out, and for what? We don’t know.” He shook his head, face screwed. “And I might lose… Macha might lose their first client ever, and under my watch too. She was mine to protect, and I failed her.”

  Reaper sighed and laid a fatherly hand on his shoulder. “I know what Isa means to you. Hell, she means a lot to all of us, but we can’t let emotions drive us tonight. Isa needs us to figure this out. That won’t happen if your heart controls your actions.”

  Lifting warring eyes, Doc saw the shimmer in the other man’s gaze. He wasn’t the only one in pain. The betrayal of a brother cut the deepest.

  “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  “Yes it will, but for now, keep it together.” Reaper offered a small smile. “You’ll get Isa back, and Macha will get revenge.”

  Doc watched his brothers disperse to ready themselves.

  The Twelve Brothers brought their battle from Ireland to the States. Macha would end the war. He’d make sure of it.

  35

  Isa

  A bright beam of light woke Isa. Lifting her hand to stop the intrusion, she slowly opened her eyes. Head pounding, she struggled to sit up. It hurt more than her binge weekend after graduating university. “What the bloody hell happened?”

  Eyes finally open, she looked around the small room. It held
a twin-sized bed, the four walls cement. The only sound was the rush of blood through her veins. In an instant, her memory flooded back to her. The power outage. The spilled water bottle. The clammy hands over her mouth. The familiar face. She quickly stood and winced at the pain.

  “Well, you took your sweet-ass time waking up,” a rough voice stated from the door.

  Isa whirled around and gasped when she read the name on his leather cut. “Shovelhead?”

  The short man stepped fully into the room and crossed his tattooed arms over his chest. He hadn’t even had the decency to remove his Macha vest. “The one and only.”

  “It was you.” She shook her head and backed up against the wall, finally placing the man from her abduction. The cool slab did nothing to alleviate the heat coursing through her at the blatant disregard of Macha. “But you’re VP. Why would you do this?”

  “Money.” He leaned against the door and studied her. “The Twelve Brothers offered quite a bit of money to get the upper hand against Phantom. No one even knew you existed until your mother died. They reached out when they couldn’t find you, and I filled them in on your whereabouts.”

  Bile rose in Isa’s throat. Her mother was right to keep her away from the MC life, though a small part of her didn’t agree. There’d be no danger if her father had been a mechanic instead of MC man. “What do they want with me? My—Phantom barely knows me.”

  “You know the details already. The Twelve want to expand in Ireland, and that includes Macha territory. Phantom refused the monetary kickbacks, so the Twelve Brothers had to get inventive.”

  “Why wouldn’t Phantom work with you?”

  Shovelhead smiled coldly. “The Twelve Brothers MC isn’t like Macha, sweet thing. They’re violent, they run drugs, and they don’t give a shit about what happens afterward.”

  Isa crossed her arms over her breasts, a sudden chill tickling her spine. “Then why would you want to go into business with them?”