Moto

by M. Never

  “Back so soon, Kayla?” Dr. Hale asks as we wheel the unconscious patient down the hallway. She’s a well-kept, middle-aged woman, who quickly became a role model for me when I started at Mercy.

  “You know me.” I smile at her. “I just can’t stay away.”

  On the way to the exam room, I grab a fresh gown and a pair of gloves. No way am I not seeing this through.

  Once in the room, we transfer the unconscious man from the gurney onto the bed and immediately X-ray him. He’s still fully dressed—helmet and all—minus the huge rip in his pants. We can’t remove the helmet until we know he has no spinal injuries.

  Dr. Lipschitz enters the room as Dr. Hale examines the X-rays. Dr. Lipschitz is the trauma surgeon on duty and immediately begins to close the gaping wound in the man’s thigh. It takes several heart-pounding minutes to sew it shut, but he does so beautifully. He’s a brilliant doctor, but a grade-A, Ivy League asshole. We all keep our distance. Once he’s done, he drops the instruments and leaves the room without so much as a word.

  Freddy and Lex—the two other nurses—and I all exchange the same communicative glance. Douchebag.

  “Spine and CT is clear!” Dr. Hale suddenly announces. “But his leg is seriously messed up.” She places the films up on the screen.

  Ouch. Both bones in his lower leg are broken and wrapped around each other.

  “Get that helmet off, and let’s wrap this guy. Lex, twenty of morphine. Unconscious or not, this is going to hurt.”

  Lex, Freddy, and I all take on our respective roles. Lex administers the ordered meds, Freddy cuts the man out of his clothes, and I remove his helmet. After which I nearly drop it.

  “Dev?” I gasp.

  “That’s not Dev.” Freddy looks at the man on the table, almost star-struck.

  “Then who the hell is it?” Dr. Hale demands.

  “It’s the phantom.”

  “Who?” Dr. Hale and I both respond in unison.

  “That’s Reese Dane. Dr. Dane’s twin brother. He’s a legend, on and off the track,” Freddy divulges.

  “Track? What the hell are you talking about?” Dr. Hale asks, utterly confused.

  “He’s a motorcycle racer. World famous, badass, Moto Grand Prix champion.”

  “Why do you call him the phantom?” I ask.

  Both Freddy and Lex look up at me and smirk. “Because you never see him coming, baby.” Lex flashes an overconfident smile. “He sneaks up on you just like a ghost.”

  I roll my eyes so hard they nearly get lost in my head. Just what the world needs, a second Dane with an even bigger ego.

  “Contact Dr. Dane,” Dr. Hale instructs Lex. “I’m sure he’ll want to know his brother has been in an accident. As for you two, let’s get Mr. Dane patched up and into recovery.”

  We all nod at the doctor’s orders.

  It takes close to an hour to reposition the bones in Reese’s leg and then cast him. On top of his injured lower extremities, he also had a dislocated shoulder that needed to be popped back into place. All in all, it wasn’t the worst motorcycle accident I’ve seen. He managed to hang onto his life.

  “Mr. Dane won’t be doing much racing.” Dr. Hale pulls off her gloves and discards them.

  “No, he won’t.” I look down at the unconscious man. The resemblance is uncanny. Every feature the exact same as Dev’s. Dark wavy hair, high cheekbones, strong jaw, long thick eyelashes, and tons of ink. The most intricate designs I’ve ever seen. The entire right side of his body is covered—arm, chest, torso, thigh, calf. It looks like he’s half machine. Just like the Terminator when his fake flesh was pulled off his body.

  “See something you like, Nurse Kincade?” Dr. Hale teases me.

  “Huh?” I look up realizing I’m inspecting Reese a little too closely. “Oh.” I step back and clear my throat. I feel like I was just caught with my hand in the cookie jar. “I’ve just never seen a tattoo like that before.”

  “You’ve never seen Dev without his shirt off then,” Dr. Hale purrs.

  My face drops. “Not you, too.” I thought she had more respect for herself.

  “Oh, God no. I have my own bad boy at home. I saw Dev changing his shirt in the parking garage after work one night. Lord.” She fans herself. I can’t even. It’s like Dev emits pheromones. “It’s definitely at least worth a peek.”

  “I’ll remember that.” I scrunch my nose. The last thing I need is to be looking at Devlin Dane without any clothes on.

  We walk out of the room together as Reese is wheeled into recovery. I can’t believe Dev has a brother. An identical twin. He never even hinted he had a sibling. I can’t get over the craziness of it all.

  Dr. Hale makes her way back into the ER as I escort Reese. I’m not technically on duty, so there’s no place pressing I have to be. Except the gym. It’s close to ten p.m. by the time everything settles down. It’s a slow night in recovery, so I figure the nurses are probably catching up on charts—or chitchatting. Take your pick. It’s just me, a comatose Reese, and the guy snoring across the room.

  As hard as I try, I can’t bring myself to stop looking at Dev’s twin. It’s like I’m staring at a carnival attraction.

  I lean in closer without even thinking and inspect the mechanical tattoo some more. It’s so detailed. Not one centimeter of skin is showing. I touch the lifelike metal gears and springs, marveling at the 3D effect, when Reese suddenly wakes with a start, latching onto my arm.

  “Ouch!” He squeezes so hard I know I’m going to bruise.

  “Where am I?” he demands in a panic.

  I struggle to get free but his hand is like a steel vise. Maybe he really is part robot.

  “Where. Am. I?”

  “The hospital.” I jerk my arm. “You were in an accident. You sliced your thigh and broke your leg.”

  “Who are you?” He looks directly into my eyes, his hand still clamped around my bicep. He’s holding me so tight, my limb is starting to go numb. If he didn’t just sustain life-threatening injuries, I would punch him just so he’d let go.

  “I’m Nurse Kincade, and Mr. Dane, you’re fucking hurting me,” I grind out.

  He releases me immediately. He may be Dev’s brother, but he definitely doesn’t share his bedside manner.

  “Where’s my brother?” He looks around the room, skittishly. Geez, wake up on the wrong side of the bed, did we?

  “He’s on his way,” I assure him in a calm tone.

  “He’s right here.” Dev’s voice echoes behind me. “It would behoove you to be nice to Nurse Kincade. She saved your sorry ass.”

  We both look up at Dev.

  “You heard about that already?” I ask.

  “I think the whole hospital heard, superstar.” He nudges me.

  I bite my lip. I wasn’t trying to do anything heroic, just my job. “Say thank you, you schmuck.”

  Reese sneers at Dev. “Thank you.”

  That was heartfelt.

  I look back and forth between the two of them in awe; it’s like gazing into a mirror.

  “You’re welcome.” My response is actually genuine.

  Reese glares at me circumspectly, as if he doesn’t know what to make of me. It’s a little unnerving. And frankly, rude.

  “What happened exactly?” Dev asks.

  “We were stopped at a red light. A drunk driver just barreled into him from behind. He went flying into some oncoming traffic and slammed into a car. He flew over the hood, but I didn’t see him land.” I reiterate exactly what I saw, leaving out the engine fornication moments before.

  “Wow. You’re lucky, bro. I swear, it’s like a four-leaf clover is shoved up your ass with all the crashes you’ve lived through.” Dev crosses his arms and shakes his head incredulously.

  “Yeah, real lucky.” Reese drops his head on the pillow and stares up at the ceiling.

  “Can I have some alone time with my brother?” Dev asks.

  “Absolutely.” I immediately start to walk backward. I can imagine the emo
tional trauma Reese is probably experiencing right now. It has to be disconcerting to wake up in a hospital bed with a cast halfway up your thigh and have absolutely no recollection how or why you got there.

  “See you tomorrow,” I tell Dev. “Feel better,” I throw out at Reese. They both reply with the same answering head gesture, and my tailbone tingles unexpectedly.

  Holy shit. Not one Devlin Dane, but two.

  Have. Mercy.

  I watch Kayla hurry out of the room. She’s still wearing her pink scrubs from earlier with my brother’s blood smeared all over the front. I’m glad it was her. The girl is smart as a whip and knows what she’s doing. It’s probably why she stays the hell away from me.

  “Got a crush or something?” Reese asks snidely.

  I turn to face him. “She’s a colleague.”

  “And that’s stopping you why?” he grunts.

  I shake off the idiot remark. Who I want to fuck is irrelevant at the moment.

  “How do you feel?” I redirect.

  “Like I just got hit by a car.”

  I peer down at my snarky brother.

  “Seriously.” I pin him with a stern glare.

  “A little bit of pain,” he discloses.

  “Where?”

  “My leg and shoulder.”

  “What about your chest?” I narrow my eyes.

  “No, none there,” he grumbles.

  “Perfect. Just what I want to hear.”

  “Where’s my stuff?” Reese asks tensely, possessively.

  “Relax, your precious backpack made it through the accident unscathed.” The fucking thing is like his security blanket. “I can’t say the same for your clothes, though.”

  “I don’t give two shits about my clothes. My backpack is all that matters.” He settles down a bit. “How long am I down for?” he cuts to the chase.

  It’s my turn to grunt. “You broke both bones in your leg. You’re out for the rest of the season, man.”

  “What?” Reese nearly jumps out of bed. “Isn’t there anything we can do to speed up the healing process? Cortisone injections? Hydrotherapy?”

  I shake my head vigorously. “This isn’t a torn muscle. I know you understand that. It’s highly unlikely you’ll race again soon.” I deliver the bad news.

  Reese punches the mattress. I know how devastating this is for him to hear. Ever since I can remember, racing has been his life. It’s like he breathes it, and this year, he was a shoo-in to take it all home, again. To defend his Grand Prix title. Winning is what drives him. “Recover the right way and go back even stronger next year.” I place a consoling hand on his shoulder.

  Anger radiates from his body. I know if he could get up, he’d wail on me. And I’d let him.

  “I want a second opinion. What the fuck do you know anyway? You’re a cardiologist.” He lashes out, jerking his arm.

  I huff. “You forget my first concentration was sports medicine. I’ve seen this. And I know how long the healing process takes.”

  He bristles, fighting back the bubbling emotion.

  “I’m going to get you set up in a private room. A little peace and quiet and some rest will do you good.”

  “I don’t want peace and quiet. I want fucking fast.” He pulls on his hair with both hands.

  I sigh sympathetically. “I know you do. But that’s not an option at the moment.”

  Reese makes a sound in this throat like a perturbed cat. This is killing him.

  “Want me to stick around a while? Keep you company?”

  “Nah, I’m good.” He turns his head away petulantly. For a world famous motorcycle racer, who is a pillar in the Grand Prix community, he can act like a sulky child sometimes. I’ll let it slide this time. His season, and whole reason to be, just went up in smoke.

  “How come you never told me you had a brother? A twin brother?” Kayla asks as I exit the hospital room. She’s leaning against the wall, obviously waiting for me.

  I shrug. “Subject never came up.”

  “Bullshit. You know I have no siblings. You know my aunt’s a detective, and my parents are divorced.”

  She’s got me there. “I don’t know why I never brought it up.”

  “Are you not close?” she snoops.

  “We’re close. We’re just . . . different.”

  “I noticed.” She pushes off the wall. She’s adorable in her bright pink Nikes and messy bun.

  “What are you still doing here?” I snoop back. “Waiting for me?”

  “Waiting for my ride,” she sets me straight. “I sort of had to abandon my truck on the side of the road to save your brother’s ass.”

  “I can give you a ride if you need one.” I slide closer to her. “Maybe help you clean up. Get you out of these dirty clothes.” I tug on the hem of her shirt.

  Kayla shakes her head flirtatiously. “My aunt is on her way. She heard about what happened. Said someone will be here tomorrow to take your brother’s statement. She’s going to take mine.”

  “You sure?” I press.

  “I’m positive.” She looks me directly in the eyes, steadfast.

  One day, I’m going to break right through that resolve, but tonight, I’ll let her be.

  Someone suddenly clears their throat behind me. I glance back to see Sam, Kayla’s hard-ass aunt, standing there authoritatively. She’s an older version of Kayla, dark-brown hair pulled back into a tight bun and big brown eyes with flecks of gold. The fact that she packs a piece makes her ten times more the MILF. Well, AILF.

  “If you don’t step back, Dr. Dane, I’ll be forced to handcuff you.”

  I smile. Did I mention she has a wicked sense of humor, too?

  “My apologies, Detective Kincade. I know how protective you are of your niece. I was just keeping an eye on her.”

  Both Kayla and Sam laugh animatedly. They don’t buy my shit for a second, and I think that only makes me respect them more. The Kincade women share the same traits: beautiful and no bullshit.

  “I appreciate that, Dev, but I think Kayla can look out for herself.”

  “There’s no doubt in my mind.” I back away reluctantly from Kayla.

  She shoots me a cutsie grin over her shoulder as she walks off. “Later, Dr. Dane.”

  “Later, Nurse Kincade,” I mutter under my breath as I watch her hot ass stroll down the hallway. One day, one way or another, I’ll have her more than just passively saying my name. I’ll have her moaning it, screaming it, dreaming about it. I’ll have her living for it.

  One day.

  One way or a-fucking-nother.

  I melt into Sam’s front seat. Exhaustion suddenly hitting me hard.

  “Scottie drove your truck back to the station. We can pick it up tonight or grab it in the morning if you’re tired?” Sam suggests as she pulls out of the parking garage. Bed sounds so good right now.

  “You don’t mind picking me up in the morning?”

  “Nope.” She glances over and smiles.

  “Bed sounds awesome.” I make my choice.

  “I thought it would.” She chuckles. “It’s been a hectic day.”

  “One of the craziest. I can’t believe Dev has a twin brother!” I stretch my legs. “I had no idea! I nearly fell over when I pulled his helmet off.”

  “What’s the superstar like?”

  I think back to our several short encounters. “He’s a show-off, annoyingly cocky, and has zero personality. He can use a lesson in manners, too.”

  “That’s quite an evaluation.”

  “He makes quite an impression. I’ll give him that.” I grimace.

  “Sort of like his brother?” she prods.

  “Sam.” I cut her off right there. Geez, I casually mention I met a hot doctor at work, and she latches on like a pit bull with a death grip.

  “I regret ever telling you about Dev and regret even more introducing you to him. We’re friends.”

  “Whatever you say, Kayla,” she pacifies me.

  “I mean it. You know
how I feel about bikers.”

  Sam frowns as she pulls into my driveway. “You say that, but it didn’t look like you two were just friends in the hallway.” She eyes me. “And he is a doctor . . .”

  “Sam, enough.”

  I love my aunt. She’s my best friend and a damn good cop. When my mom decided to follow deadbeat number five to Florida when I was thirteen, Sam stepped in to raise me. Let’s not even get started on my father. He was deadbeat number one.

  There was no way in hell I was going with my mother and the man who drank more than a fish and called her wench as a pet name. I would have lived in the street first, and Sam knew it.

  As much as I’m thankful for it now, I definitely didn’t make things easy on Sam. I went through a bit of a wild child phase. But she made sure I survived adolescence in one piece. There was a time we both worried I wouldn’t.

  “I’m sorry. I just want you to be happy and taken care of.”

  “Taken care of? What is this? 1960?” I ask appalled.

  “I don’t mean like that. Taken care of emotionally. A woman in any era needs that.”

  “And you think a tattooed, playboy doctor is going to do that?”

  She shrugs. “I think he just might. I see the way he looks at you.”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen it, too. Like I’m just another mile to ride.”

  “Sometimes a single mile can turn into a thousand.”

  I curl my lip. “We’re still talking about motorcycles, right?”

  Sam laughs. It sounds just like mine, a little rough and throaty. “Yes.”

  “Good. Because bouncing sexual innuendos back and forth with my aunt wouldn’t be weird or anything.”

  “Nah.” She pulls the spare key to my condo from her key ring. My backpack with all my personal belongings, including my keys—is still in my truck. “Call you before I come?” she says as I open the passenger side door.

  “Yes, please.” I give her a swift peck on the cheek before I slide out of the unmarked cruiser. “See you in the morning.”

  My mattress is virtually calling my name as I drag myself inside and straight to the bathroom. As much as I need sleep, I need a shower first. I’m still covered in Reese’s blood. I pull my scrubs off, trying my hardest not to think of Dev or his identical twin.