Biker's Librarian (Lord of Mayhem Book 1)

by Shyla Colt

  “What else could it be?” Exhaling through his nose, he shook his head, nostrils flaring as his jaw turned to stone and his muscles grew stiff.

  “Shooter.” Raising onto her tiptoes, she held his face between her hands. “This is not about you. I’m having a hard time fighting my demons. My heart says this was my fault. I brought this shit onto everyone, and the bad memories are fresh.”

  “Why are you just now telling me this? It’s been two months, damn near three.”

  “I know! But you’re dealing with this too. At night I hear you talking in your sleep.”

  “I’m solid. You don’t have to worry about me.” He shook his head, quick to believe his own denial.

  “Yet I do. Isn’t that what Old Ladies do?”

  He smirked. “Yeah, I guess so… so where do we go from here?”

  “I’m going to see the doctor who helped me last time, talk it out, unscramble my jammed signals, and move forward.” She paused. “Maybe you should do the same.”

  He shook his head, pulling away.

  “P.T.S.D—”

  “I don’t have P.T.S.D.!”

  “Okay, then delayed combat stress. It’s very real. And this situation would be a giant trigger. You lost control, which believe me I know you use to order your world, and whatever Mayhem is in right now it’s bloody. I’ve researched it.”

  “Look, if you need help I’ll back you. But don’t force it on me.”

  The aggressive boom of his voice accelerated her heart rate, and she jumped back.

  “Shit! I’m sorry, baby.” He pulled her into his arms, holding her close. “I’m just on edge.”

  “I know and it’s killing me not to be able to help. We’re drowning under the weight of our own issues. If we want to survive as an us we need to get our heads above water individually.”

  “You want me to move back out?”

  “God, no! You’re the reason I can sleep at night. I haven’t forgotten there are three more of them out of there.”

  “You think they’re that brave?”

  “At this point I can’t discount anything. I’ve tried to figure out who it could be, but he ran with a large crowd. None stick out in my mind.”

  “One thing at a time, okay?” Resting her head on his chest she nodded her head. “From this point on we have to be open and honest. No trying to spare my feelings, okay?”

  “You want me uncensored, you got it.”

  “Good, now go get some rest.”

  “Aren’t you going to tuck me in?”

  His slid his hand lower, cupping her ass, and she whimpered. “I can’t be remiss in my duties, now can I?”

  ***

  Juliette glanced at the sleeping man beside her and knew she had never fully comprehended the true meaning of love until she met him. The things he’d done and continued to do humbled her. With her funds drained, she’d been forced to rely on him to support her and pay her bills while she attempted to straighten things out. It took a hell of a lot of paperwork, running around, and arguing with customer service to prove your innocence when it came to fraud of this caliber. Of course, it didn’t hurt when Shooter walked into the main branch beside you. They’d made things official. When his lease came up two months ago, he hadn’t renewed and moved in.

  She traced the tattoo on his back with the tip of her index finger. His skin was smooth and warm. He’d fought for her and now she’d do the same for him as well as herself. There were plenty of places a veteran could receive help. She’d nudge him gently toward them. Maybe Doctor Alexander could recommend some things.

  ***

  A few days later

  “Juliette, you look well.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Alexander. How are you?” She sat on the dark brown couch, doing her best not to fidget under his assessing gaze. Time had been kind. Grey peppered the fringes of his dark brown hair, and the crow’s feet hadn’t deepened. She felt a strong connection to the slightly overweight man with the kind countenance.

  “Can you tell me why you’re here today?”

  “The man…who I left, Peter. He reappeared and tracked me down before he was incarcerated recently on charges of human trafficking. You may have seem him in the news for his past exploits leaked. It was a rough time. It reopened wounds I thought were healed. ”

  “What do you believe upset you the most?”

  “When he came back around sent me messages, and attempted to threaten me now that I’ve entered a new, healthy relationship this has been a major setback. I’m upset at myself for letting it affect me. My house was also broken into, and it…took me back to that time when I had no control over my life.”

  “I’d say that was perfectly normally. It was an extremely tumultuous time in your life, and his making contact would make the edges of those memories a lot sharper. Add the break-in and his court case, and that’s a lot of stress. Can you give me details about what has you concerned?”

  “Nightmares, hallucinations, which are new, and moments of temporary panic and disorientation. The lack of sleep is starting to affect my life.”

  He placed his fingertips together. “In your personal opinion, what bothers you the most?”

  “His…reappearance in my life at the same time I started my first serious relationship left me feeling…helpless.” She rubbed the hem of her shirt between her fingers and peered down. “I’m ashamed to say this, but I misplaced my anger and took it out on my boyfriend.”

  “And what was his response?”

  “Understanding, he’s been extremely supportive through this entire thing.”

  “So, he knows your history?”

  “Yes, all of it.”

  Dr. Alexander made notes. “That’s very good. I’m pleased to hear you’ve progressed in your ability to connect in a romantic capacity. Can you tell me more about the hallucinations?”

  “Sometimes I’ll be out and look over and believe I see my ex out of the corner of my eye. I know it’s not rational, but the fear remains.”

  “Everything you’re describing seems well within the parameters of normal. You seem well adjusted, invested in the present, and enthusiastic about your future. The events triggered a wound that, though healed, still aches from time to time. I believe you’re rallying the best way you can, and the things you’re feeling will lose their intensity as time goes by. I think it’s important you express your feelings in a safe place. I’d like to keep seeing you if it’s agreeable.”

  “Please.”

  “I think this is a good stopping point for today. If you feel the need, I can prescribe you with something to help you sleep. If any major issues come up before the next visit I want you to call me immediately.”

  She felt lighter as she exited the office and made an appointment for next week. Opening up and talking with a professional who thought she was completely normal put her concerns at ease. Being afraid to leave the house and having panic attacks at the drop of a dime, had begun to take a toll on her.

  Getting into her car, she smiled as she pulled out of the parking lot. Today she had a wine date with her girls and she was sorely in need of some tough love and real talk.

  Seated in their corner of Corked, Juliette couldn’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu.

  “Crazy how much can change,” she whispered.

  “Right?” Joey shook her head.

  “So what’s going on? You’ve been distant lately. I wasn’t even sure if you’d come out today.” Hil cut to the heart of the matter, per her style.

  “I’ve been having nightmares about Peter. Guilt issues, slipping back into old habits.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” Evonne asked.

  “I didn’t want to worry anyone and I was embarrassed. It felt like a rehash of things I already put behind me. Today I broke down, called Dr. Alexander, and he fit me in.”
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  “What did he say?” Joey asked.

  “What I’m experiences is normal. Having Peter contact me and then stalk me, tugged at the wound I stitched up years ago. He encouraged me to be open and honest with the people I care about and trust. Keeping it to myself, allowing it to become a secret I was ashamed of, gave it power.”

  “Girl, you know you can always tell us anything!” Joey placed her hand on Juliette’s and squeezed.

  “I know, and I love you for it.”

  “Is that the only thing?” Hil arched a brow.

  “No… Shooter’s been having a hard time dealing with it too. I think it triggered some unresolved issues from his time in the service.”

  “Affecting him how?” Evonne pursed her lips.

  “Nightmares, and a short fuse. Nothing dangerous. It’s just like he has a non-ending case of male P.M.S. He’s short when normally he’s a fountain of patience and his snark…” She gritted her teeth.

  “Did you bring it up to him?” Joey asked.

  “I did. I told him he had P.T.S.D. or at the least combat stress. He didn’t take it too kindly. It was like a do not enter door slamming in my face.”

  “I interviewed soldiers with P.T.S.D. for my last book.” Hil frowned. “If he doesn’t get a handle on it, things are only going to get worse.”

  “I’m not ready to give up. Maybe now that I’m getting help he’ll be encouraged. We agreed to be honest. Trying to tiptoe around the elephant in the room does nothing but push us farther apart. We’ve gone through too much shit to let that happen now that things are settling down.” Juliette took a sip of wine. “Enough about me. Tell me what’s going on with all of you?”

  “My publisher accepted the latest book, so I’ll soon be diving into more research for my next book and the dreaded edits.” Hil laughed.

  “She acts like she doesn’t love it!” Evonne snorted, and they all laughed.

  “I landed a new client. I’ll be totally swamped making heads or tails over his books. He fired his bookkeeper when he realized she wasn’t up to snuff.” Evonne grimaced. “But it wasn’t soon enough. It doesn’t hurt that he’s sexy as hell.”

  “Oh my God! You have a crush!” Joey covered her mouth.

  “No… I just admire nice things.”

  “Details!” They chanted.

  Evonne laughed. “Tall, and I mean giant, he’s six-foot-five with dark hair and the most amazing set of green eyes I’ve ever seen.”

  “Sounds yummy!” Hil whistled.

  “What’s his name?” Joey asked.

  “Levi,” Evonne practically purred.

  “Damn, that even sounds sexy.” Hil winked.

  “Mhmmm.” Evonne nodded.

  “Are you going to pursue him as something…more?” Juliette asked. Evonne wasn’t normally such a smoldering sex pot.

  “That’s the thing, girls. Unless I’m misreading the signs… Levi is very interested in me.”

  “Go girl!” Joey held up her hand and they high-fived. “Well now Hil and I are the boring ones.”

  “Speak for yourself! I have some sexy men to interview soon.” Hil wiggled her eyebrows.

  Juliette laughed. “Have I told you ladies I love you?”

  “Aww, we love you too, bestie!” Hil squeeze her hand as the others agreed.

  These women were her sanity savers. Between them, Dr. Alexander, and Shooter she’d weather yet another storm and come out stronger for the journey.

  Shooter ran a hand over his face as he peered at the building across the street. He hadn’t talked to a shrink in a long time. But he wanted to make things work with Juliette. Knowing he scared her sickened him. With his lifestyle, he couldn’t afford to be off his game. It could mean the difference between life and death.

  He’d made an appointment for two o’clock. But going to it proved to be harder than he expected. This stirred up memories of his time in the service he tried his best not to think about. Back then had been different. P.T.S.D. was a foreign concept most people thought was synonymous with cowardice. You kept your mouth shut so you held your position and avoided being called a bitch.

  When his contract expired he’d become a civilian. He self-medicated with alcohol, women, and living on the edge. Then he’d stumbled into the Lords and found a home. He’d harmed people since, fired a gun with the intent to do bodily harm, but never with his sniper rifle.

  Something about it had knocked him for a loop.

  He walked over to the brick structure, heart in his throat. After all of this, Juliette and he really ought to make shit more official. The Midwestern in him balked at the thought of others thinking she could be removed from his side.

  The waiting room was full of veterans ranging from old to young. The sterile environment made his skin crawl. Last time he’d been in a hospital he’d escaped life-altering news by the skin of his teeth. Walking up to the front desk, he smiled at the elderly woman with salt and pepper hair.

  “How can I help you, young man?”

  “I have an appointment with Dr. Richards.”

  “Oh you’ll find his office on the third floor.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “You’re quite welcome. Thank you for your service.”

  A lump formed in his throat, and he nodded his thanks. It’d been a long time since a person had spoken those words to him. He was proud to have served his country. He just didn’t talk about it because of the bad memories.

  Finding the right room, he walked inside before he could change his mind. He entered the small room and glanced at the seats along the wall. Nervous, he took the seat beside the door and looked around. The office was bland with white walls, generic paintings, and motivational posters.

  His throat dried, and anxiety set in. Would he make him talk about the torture? The thought of spilling his guts to anyone about the things that happened made him sick to his stomach. It’d be like inviting someone into the room to witness the worst event of your life. Reaching up, he rubbed the back of his neck. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. The door opened, sealing his fate.

  “I’ll see you next week, Brian.” The tall man in blue jeans and a polo shirt nodded, and his eyebrows flew up. Dr. Richards was a woman. Dressed in a navy blue skirt, white button up blouse, and pumps, she had her blonde hair pulled back in a bun. Something about her stance screamed ex-military.

  “Mr. Nash?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Richards.” She held out her hand, and he shook it.

  “Nice to meet you too.”

  “Would you like to step inside?” She gestured toward the room, and he nodded, preceding her inside. A small white couch with a few pillows and two end tables with plants greeted him. After sitting, he explored the interior. Her desk was just to his right against the wall. On the far side of the room, there was a bookshelf.

  She shut the door and took a seat at her desk.

  “Since this is our first day together, it’ll be informal. I want to ask you a few questions and find out what you’d like to get out of our time together. Is this your first time seeing a psychiatrist?”

  “Since I left the Marines, yes.”

  “It says here you were a sniper in the Special Forces. That in itself is a lot of pressure.”

  “Yes, ma’am, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle…until the capture.”

  She nodded. “You’ve been out of the services for a long time. What brings you in now?”

  “Recently I was forced to face issues in my past directly related to that time.”

  “That could certainly be a trigger. Can you tell me what’s been happening?”

  “Nightmares so real they border on night terrors and anger that’s always present. I’m on edge, snapping at my girlfriend and losing my temper, which isn’t like me at all.”


  “When you say you say you lose your temper…what happens?”

  “Yelling, being surly, things that generally happen when you’re irritated, and it bleeds over to someone else. My girlfriend has a history with an abusive man. So this is causing…issues between us.”

  “Yes, I can see how that would be true. Does she know your situation?”

  “Yes, ma’am. She actually pushed me to come here today.”

  “Wonderful! It sounds like you have an extremely supportive person in your life.”

  “I do. I didn’t want to admit I was having issues.”

  “I understand. It can be hard to speak out about it and break the initial silence. We’re doing our best to erase the stigma attached to it.”

  “Yeah, it’s come a long way since I was an active service member.”

  “Good. I have to warn you. This may not be the easiest thing in the world. You’ll have to delve back into some painful moments in your life. But I know we can help you put this to rest for good if you work with me.”

  “I think it’s past time I do.”

  Dr. Richards smiled. “Excellent. How about we make an appointment for the same time next week?”

  “Sounds good, Doc.”

  He’s survived his first session, and he didn’t want to put a fist through the wall. It was a good day, about to be made better by the visit to the jewelry shop for a ring.

  She’d be Juliette Nash by the end of the year.

  Chapter Eighteen

  A knock came at the door. Juliette glanced up from the box she was packing and frowned. She’d been enjoying the peace. With Peter in jail, and their issues sorted, she and Shooter were both in good places. They’d made the decision to move in to a new place together, and she was in the process of moving them both out of their places. After the break in and stalking, it held bitter memories. Besides, after the weeks spent on the road, she realized how little she truly needed to be happy. She walked toward the door. Probably one of the Prospects who forgot something. She set the newspaper aside and rose. A glance through the peephole made her heart race.