Buying My Bride: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance (Wild Aces MC)

by Zoey Parker

  “Go away,” I managed to whisper. Remembering how quickly he dismissed me earlier brought a new sort of pain to my chest. The lingering sort that wouldn’t be fixed with a little white pill.

  “I’m not leaving.” I assumed he was smiling by the lightness of his voice, but I refused to look at him again. “Lauren.” His hand touched my arm, sending a jolt of electricity through my skin.

  “Excuse me, but visitors aren’t allowed back here.” A nurse marched into the room, pushing a small cart with her. “Only family is allowed. Are you family?” I looked up at her, seeing her glare down at Michael. The woman didn’t know who she was going up against.

  “Please, go.” I pulled my arm away from his hand.

  “Sir.”

  “Give me a minute,” he growled at the nurse. She probably dealt with a dozen stubborn family members a day, so she didn’t appear to be the slightest bit afraid of his scowl. I had to give her credit for bravery, not many people could say they stood up to him when he had that look on his face.

  “Are you a family member or not?” She placed her hand on her hip and stared back at him. I didn’t turn to see his expression, but I could feel the anger starting to roll off him.

  “He’s not. But can I have just a minute with him before you kick him out?” Who knew why I came to his rescue…maybe because all those years ago he had done even more for me. A lot more. Saving him from the wrath of one overworked and underpaid nurse didn’t seem that big of an act when compared to all the times he came to my aid when we were kids.

  With a raised eyebrow, she moved her glare from him to me. Although her expression softened, the firmness of her tone didn’t decrease. “Fine. Just a few minutes. You got banged up pretty badly, and until that doctor gives the all clear, you don’t need anyone coming in here giving you all sorts of trouble.”

  “I know.” I couldn’t help but smile at the thickness of her attitude.

  “And that one is all trouble.” She pointed at Michael then turned on her heel and marched out of the room, yanking the curtain around my bed to give us some privacy.

  “Battle axe,” I heard Michael mutter, but didn’t respond to him. My shoulder burned when I tried to turn toward him and stilled. He jumped from his seat and hovered over me. “What is it? Where does it hurt? I told you not to move it.”

  If I hadn’t been so mad at him, I would have laughed at his overprotective side shining through. “It’s fine, Michael. I probably just banged it up real good. I’m fine. Really. Sit down.” I tried to shove him away with my good hand, but he captured it and easily pinned it down to the bed.

  “Quit squirming,” he ordered me with a dark stare. Knowing him well enough to know he wasn’t going to release me until I complied, I nodded. Satisfied, he released my hand and sat back in his chair. I did my best to ignore the tingling his touch left behind. “Do you have any enemies? Someone who is trying to get back at you for something?” I didn’t miss the accusatory tone in his voice and it pissed me off more.

  “No, Michael. Making enemies, that’s your MO, not mine.” My little outburst sent another sharp pain through my shoulder. “It was just a hit and run. Why would someone want to hurt me?” I gave him a pointed look. His piercing stare wasn’t easy to hold for long, and I ended up caving, looking away from him.

  “Think about it. Anyone at work? Some ex-boyfriend?”

  Ex-boyfriend? Right. “If anyone were going to run over anyone after my last breakup, it would be me driving over his cheating body.” A flash of anger courses through his eyes, settling in his expression, but I didn’t know if it was the idea of me having a boyfriend or that he cheated on me that pissed him off.

  “Some idiot cheated on you?” The gravity of his tone struck me. Could this man who just tried to throw me out of his life after seven years of hiding from me actually still care?

  “It’s no big deal.” I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the pain in my shoulder. It was getting worse and the pain meds they gave me, if they gave any at all, had worn off. “It’s not an ex. And other than one guy at school being mad because I got the intern placement he wanted, there’s no one at school. I don’t think anyone at the women’s shelter would do something like this.”

  “What women’s shelter? Is that where you’re staying?”

  “I work there. I tutor the residents at night, help put together résumés, babysit some of the kids while their moms go on interviews. That sort of thing.” He stared at me, his eyes softening. When we were kids, he told me time and again to get my mom to leave my stepdad, to run to one of the shelters in town. I even managed to get my mom to think about it once, but Gerald had heard us talking. He promised to stop drinking so much, to get some help for his temper. And for a solid week it was going fine, but then he stopped for a drink with his friends. I heard him come home and I heard him throw his fist into my mom’s stomach. When I tried to intervene, I felt his rage on my back, too. He promised he’d find us if we ran away from him. He’d drag us from the shelter and we’d have more than a few bruises to show for his trouble. Mom wouldn’t listen to a word about the shelter after that.

  “You can’t make much—”

  “Why are you here, Michael? Didn’t you tell me to go home? That it was better for me to stay away from you?” Tears sprang to my eyes remembering his words. He dragged his hand through his hair and blew out a long breath.

  “Whoever hit you did it on purpose. What about the guy from school?” he pressed on, ignoring the topic of him tossing me out.

  “He wanted the intern spot I got. Of course he’s pissed, but I doubt he’d try to kill me. It was an accident, Michael. It happens.” Where the hell was the doctor? I needed to get home and get ready for work. Marnie at the shelter needed to get her resume finished so she could take it to the job placement center in the morning. I couldn’t spend all night in the hospital, and getting Michael away from me would help me focus much better.

  “Ms. Robertson, I have your test results here. Nothing broken, thankfully.” The distracted doctor said as he walked in, keeping his face buried in the chart in his hands. He hadn’t even looked up at me yet. “Just a terribly banged up arm. You may have torn your rotator cuff, but without an MRI I won’t know for certain. I’m going to give you some pain medications, and a sleeve to keep your shoulder stabilized to give it some time to heal on its own. If you still have pain after a week, you should see an orthopedic surgeon.”

  “Why not do the MRI now?” Michael interjected. I shook my head. My insurance wasn’t the greatest, and I wasn’t even positive it would cover the emergency room visit. The last thing I needed was more bills.

  “We can if you’d like, but there are a few patients a head of you, and I really do think it can wait.”

  “It’s fine. Thank you. So, I can go home now?” I put my hand up to keep Michael from interfering again. I knew where his thoughts were headed, and if we didn’t get out of there soon, he’d be demanding the doctor wheel me down to the MRI room immediately and personally.

  The doctor looked up from the papers, eyeing Michael, and gave a nod. “Yes. The nurse will be in with your prescription. You should rest today, no heavy lifting for two weeks.”

  “I have work.”

  “He just said you have to rest. You’ll call in, or I’ll call for you.”

  “It would be best. If you have any questions, the nurse should be able to answer them. Excuse me.” With that, the doctor whooshed out of the room.

  “Well, he was a real jackass.” Michael sat back in his chair.

  He’d aged, not just physically, but I could see in his eyes the amount of years that pulled at him. Far more than seven from the looks of it. I tried so many times to get to him while he was away at juvie, and when he was released. It was as though he fell off the face of the earth.

  I didn’t blame him, not then at least. It was my fault he was sent away. If I had just listened to him, stayed in my room until he pulled up to pick me up, it wouldn’t ha
ve happened. I wiggled my way to sitting and swung my legs over the side of the bed so I could face him, completely ignoring his demands for me to stop moving. “I’m sorry, Michael.” I reached over to him and grabbed his hand. “I’m so sorry for what I did.”

  He searched my face, his brow furrowed in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “The morning with Chad. You were right, I should have—”

  “Don’t.” He shook his head.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. I’m sorry you had to help me. I’m so sorry you had to go away. You have every right to be mad at me. I…I messed up your life.” Of all the reactions I expected, him erupting into laughter wasn’t one of them.

  “You messed up my life?” He sobered up and grabbed both my hands. “Listen to me, Lauren. You didn’t do shit. It’s not your fault. None of it was. I’m not mad at you. I wasn’t then, and I’m not now.”

  “You ignored every letter, every call. You refused to see me when I went to visit. I sat on that hot bus for two hours to see you, and you refused.”

  “Yep, and I’d do it again. The last thing you needed then, and the last thing you need now, was a guy like me.” He pushed the chair away from the bed and stalked to the curtain, throwing it open. “Where the fuck is the nurse?” Before I could ask him what he was talking about, or to tell him that she was walking right toward us, he walked away.

  “I see Prince Charming went for a walk.” The nurse rolled her eyes when she entered my room.

  “Yeah. Guess so,” I whispered.

  She patted my leg softly. “Don’t worry, baby. Sometimes them walking away is the best thing they could do for you.” I didn’t tell her how wrong she was, or correct her that Michael wasn’t trouble.

  “Sometimes.” I nodded, then met her gaze. “But not always.”

  Chapter 4

  Michael

  No way that car charged at her accidentally. I already called back to the garage and asked Tony to go out to the street and check the street marks from the Charger, and, of course, I was right. That car took off, gunning for her from a standstill. That squealing I heard wasn’t just her turning too fast; it was that fucking asshole going after her.

  Lauren still saw the world through a rosy hue. I didn’t want to pull her out of that fog, but she needed to understand she might be in danger. If the guy from school was really pissed about not getting something he figured he should have had, and he was some rich asshole who’d never been told no before, there was no doubt he could have been the one behind the wheel.

  I walked out of Lauren’s room to cool my head and figure out the next best move. She blamed herself for what happened all those years ago, or, at least, she believed I blamed her. Nothing could have been farther from the truth. True, she didn’t listen to me, but fuck, I barely listened to me back then. It was my decision to beat that asshole to a bloody mess, not hers. If I had used my head that morning, I would have just grabbed her, thrown her on the back of my bike, and peeled out. Beating him senseless didn’t need to happen, but it did.

  Lauren thought she ruined my life, but she didn’t get it, didn’t see that going to juvie didn’t ruin anything. I finished school with decent grades, and if I had made the right choices when I was released, I would have gotten ahold of my own garage years ago. My choices put me in bad places. I ran with the wrong people. I looked for the quick fix to all my troubles. It was because of that I landed back in jail for a year. Whether I went to juvie that day or went to prison after high school, it wouldn’t have mattered. That was me. A fuck up.

  Owning the garage helped. Kept me on the straight and narrow. Finally brushing off most of the old crew, I managed to keep my nose clean and work my ass off until I scraped up the money to buy the garage. But the guys I worked with now, they weren’t gentle. A few of them still ran with the club I walked out on after my last trip to the joint. They weren’t sweet and caring. And that was what she deserved. Someone to bring her flowers and chocolates. Not someone who wanted to tie her down and fuck her senseless. Hell, if she saw the way Teddy worked his magic with his girls, she’d probably pass out from the shock.

  I needed to get her home and settled. Then we’d figure out who was behind the accident. Once I was satisfied she was safe, I’d leave her the fuck alone.

  When I walked back into her room I found her struggling to get her t-shirt on. She had poked her head through, and one arm had made it, but the arm with the busted-up shoulder wasn’t making the cut.

  “Fuck, Lauren. Hold on.” I tried to ignore the generous curve of her breast that peeked out from the shirt. She tried to argue with me, but one good glare and she shut her mouth. I’d never had to be firm with her before. But she grew up in the last seven years. The sweetness apparently held some bite to it now. If she thought she was going to sink that attitude into me, she had another thing coming. Yet another reason she needed to steer clear of me.

  I took her shirt off, which earned me a shocked gasp and the sexiest damn blush I’d ever seen on a woman. Damn, she really had filled out. Not that she ever let me see her tits when were kids, but I’d manhandled her enough to know what she had, and she didn’t have those. Leroy had been right. Nice tits.

  “I’m not looking, sweetheart, don’t worry,” I lied. She kept her face turned away while I worked the sleeve up her hurt arm, more from not wanting to see me see her than to hide the pain she was in. I’d hurt my shoulder enough over the years from a brawl or two to know it burned like hell to be moved the way I was working it. As gentle as I was being, there was no soft way to get that shirt over her shoulder. Once it was in place, I got her head back through and let her work her other arm in the sleeve. “There. Did Nurse Ratchet come back with your meds?”

  “Yeah, they’re there.” She pointed to a bag on the bed. “Don’t worry about it. Asya can come get me; she should be home soon.”

  “Who’s that?” I swiped the bag from the bag and checked out the meds. Narco. Shit, she’d be flat on her ass with that stuff. A half dose of Nyquil knocked her out cold when we were younger.

  “My roommate. Can you hand me my purse?” She stood from the bed and waved at the bag on the floor.

  “You mean the backpack? No. I’ll carry it. Where’s that sling the doctor told us about.” I found it on the bed and moved to help her with it. Again, she tried to push me away, but I didn’t take no from her. Never would.

  By the time I had the sling in place, the hospital valet arrived with the wheelchair. I picked up the phone in the room to call the carport and have my car brought around, again ignoring her telling me not to bother. I shooed the candy striper away and held the arm rests of the chair, lowering myself until we nearly nose to nose. “I’m taking you home. I don’t want to hear one more word from you about it. Got it?”

  Her eyes narrowed. Some smart-ass response lingered on her lips, but, at the last second, she decided against it. “Fine.”

  I swung around and grabbed the handles behind her, nodding to the surprised kid. “I’ll follow you.” He scurried around her and started walking down the hall, only giving me side glances over his shoulder as we made our way through the halls of the ER and headed out to where my car sat waiting for us.

  “Tell me about this guy at school. What’s he like?” I broke the silence in the truck. She kept herself pressed up to her side of the truck, like I was gonna reach over and pinch her. I would have if she didn’t start talking, but she really had no way of knowing that.

  “He’s just a guy. We were both up for the internship, and I landed it. He’s mad. Said I got it on account of me being a girl.”

  “What sort of guys does he hang out with?”

  “I don’t know. Normal guys.” She yanked her bag with her good arm closer to her and dug around until she found her phone. “He’s just a spoiled kid who didn’t get what he wanted. He had nothing to do with this. There’s my apartment.”

  I pulled into the open spot and told her stay the hell in her se
at when she tried to open her door. I decided to ignore the eye roll and the huffing she responded with.

  “Where’s your key?” I held out my hand.

  “I can—”

  “Look, I know it’s been a long time since you’ve known me, so let me get this one thing real clear with you: when I tell you do something, you do it. You don’t argue, you don’t pout, and you sure as fuck don’t tell me no. Now. Where is your key?” I hadn’t planned on laying it out quite like that, but her reluctance was starting to wear on me.

  She stared at me, her pink lips parted, her blue eyes searching me to see if I meant what I said. She must have figured out I wasn’t playing because she pointed to the front pocket of her bag. I unzipped the small compartment and retrieved the silver key.