by London Casey
8
HUDSON
I felt like my fucking leg was being ripped off. I looked at Cora and wondered how a woman as small as her could cause so much pain to my body. I made fists and pressed them against the floor as I forced myself to stare at the ceiling and breathe through the pain. I’d felt worse in my life.
“Just tell me if it’s too much,” she said, her words so soft and smooth.
Her voice was almost angelic as she played with the devil’s beat-up leg.
“I need to ride, sweetheart,” I said. “Keep going.”
She bent my knee some more and pushed at my leg. A sudden jolt went up into my stomach and exploded into my chest. I fought the pain, but my body’s instincts took over. Next thing I knew, I was grabbing at her arm, pulling her away from me. I sat up and turned my right shoulder to shield myself.
“What the fuck?” I growled.
My voice boomed through the room. I looked around and saw that there was nobody else in there with us. That was a good thing. Cora had been purposely scheduling me as the last appointment of the day. She had asked me to keep the cursing to minimum but that wasn’t how I rolled.
“I told you to tell me,” Cora said.
“I’m fine,” I growled.
Cora then touched my shoulder. I could feel the heat of her hand burning through my t-shirt. I glanced to the floor where my leather cut lay peacefully. I curled my lip as she squeezed at my shoulder.
“You can do this, Hudson.”
I shook my shoulder away, out of her reach.
I rolled to my stomach and put my chin to my hands. “Keep going. Work as much as you need.”
“I normally don’t do this much this fast,” she said. “There can be damage…”
“I’m up against time,” I said. “I have nothing else to do but heal. So either fix my leg or kick my ass out of here.”
There was a pause between us, the only sound the faint buzz of a light. She then lowered herself to her knees as I looked back at her. Fuck, she was really pretty. Her auburn hair, which was actually let down for once, fell forward, touching her face and shoulders. A few lucky stray strands cut down into the front of her shirt. The top of her shirt pinched together, opening, leaving plenty for my eyes to gaze at. I adverted my eyes, gritting my teeth, pissed off at myself for thinking anything about Cora. She was here to mend broken limbs, not broken men.
I put my head forward. “Get to work, sweetheart.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Cora retorted. She grabbed my leg and bent it fast. I groaned in pain. “Whoops.”
I shook my head, smiling, making sure she couldn’t see my smile.
She had her moments where she showed she could be fierce, and I respected that.
“Tell me when,” she said.
She leaned forward, twisting and adjusting my left leg. Her left hand came forward and went right next to my elbow. I swore I could smell her. Something sweet and fruity enveloped me. I was used to the smell of leather, grease, booze, and blood. This was something new and welcome. Almost like a splash of innocence in a world overrun by wild sin.
I took a deep breath when I felt like my knee was going to pop apart.
Cora then put her hand to my arm. “Sorry,” she whispered. She eased back.
I used my right hand to reach over and touch hers. I didn’t know what the fuck I was trying to accomplish at that point, but the sad truth was that I had spent more time with Cora in the last week than I had with my club. They were meeting, talking, voting, out riding. I was left to hang back either in the clubhouse or my apartment. I had actually spent more time in my apartment than at the clubhouse. It was almost torture to be there without being able to do much.
“How’s the doc?” I asked, breaking up our silence.
“The doc?”
“Pencil neck.”
“Oh, Derrick.”
“Whatever. How is he?”
“Why does that matter to you?”
I turned my head. “You ever hear of conversation, sweetheart?”
“Why do you want to know about Derrick?” she asked, suddenly a little confrontational.
I liked it. I grinned.
I playfully slid my fingers up and down hers until she took her hand away from me. She then moved to my left side and was on her knees, focused on my leg.
I let uncomfortable silence fill the room until she spoke.
“He always asks me out,” she said. “I have no real interest, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“I don’t know. I don’t see him that way.”
“That you aren’t interested,” I said. “That’s a good thing. Doctors are assholes.”
“They are?”
“They’re not like outlaws, sweetheart. We have more fun in life.”
“I’m sure you do,” she said. “Getting hit by cars. That’s pretty fun. Sign me up for that.”
I looked back at her again. Then I rolled to my side and sat up. “I didn’t ask to be smashed into by a SUV. Know that, Cora. There are circumstances in life that just happen. I think you know that too.”
She swallowed hard.
Damn, there was some serious guilt hidden in those sweet brown eyes of hers.
“I think we’re good here tonight,” Cora said. “If you do too much, you’ll hurt yourself worse. I know it’s not what you want to hear but you need to rest. The body heals while you’re resting.”
“Thanks,” I said. I grabbed for my crutches and swung one toward my leather cut.
Cora then moved forward and lifted the leather cut off the floor. Now that was a sight to see. This pretty woman standing there holding my leather cut like it was a ticking bomb.
“Here,” she said.
“Thanks, sweetheart,” I replied.
I put my leather cut on and then stood up, using the fucking crutches once again.
“Just for the record,” Cora said. “I’m not the kind of person who sees a cute doctor and thinks payday. I’ve told Derrick several times that I’m not interested. Not that he does anything wrong. Can’t blame him for trying.”
I just nodded, smirking.
Finally, Cora stopped and asked, “What’s so funny?”
“You,” I said. “Justifying yourself. I just asked a question to break up the quiet. I really don’t care who you like and don’t like. I bounced from high school a long damn time ago.”
“Then why even ask?”
“Just good to know what I’m up against.”
“Up against?”
“I’ll see you for our next appointment, Cora.”
I turned and started to move.
“Hey, Hudson?”
I paused and looked back. “Yeah?”
“Can you wait five minutes? Walk me to my car?”
“You afraid of the dark?”
“No, I…”
“Sure thing, sweetheart,” I said as she hesitated.
I waited outside and lit up a fresh smoke. Now, I wasn’t born yesterday, and I wasn’t in the outlaw life by being dumb. Cora could have been afraid of the dark, sure, but she was afraid of something else. And who was I to turn down a woman in need?
Cora came walking out the building with a large bag slung over her shoulder. I reached for it, taking a hold of the strap of the bag.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Carrying your stuff.”
“You’re on crutches.”
“I’m not dead.”
I threw the bag over my shoulder, resting it to my back. I took one last drag of my smoke and flicked it away.
“You know, that doesn’t help the healing process,” Cora said.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said. “Where’s your car?”
“Around back.”
We walked side by side along the side of the building. There were two cars in the back lot. When I saw the car she was driving, it sort of struck me as odd. It looked a little beaten up. I figured a single woman like her making th
e money I assumed she was making would have something a little newer and nicer.
I kept my mouth shut, but Cora now had my full interest. I opened the passenger door to the car and put the bag on the seat.
“Can you put it on the floor?” she asked. “The bag is so heavy it triggers the seatbelt alarm.”
“I can fix that,” I said. I grabbed the seatbelt and pulled it around the bag and clicked it shut. “There. Now your work is safe.”
Cora let out a giggle.
It was nice to hear her laugh a little.
I wasn’t the easiest guy to deal with, and I’m sure her day was made up of people bitching and complaining about pain and wanting to get back to their lives.
I walked around to the driver’s side of the car.
“Drive safe, sweetheart,” I said.
“Thanks for walking me out here. I don’t like walking alone in the dark.”
“Something happen?”
“You ever watch the news?”
I laughed. “The news has nothing on my life, Cora. I’ll see you around.”
There was a moment’s hesitation, so I stole a few more seconds of her time. I reached for her face with my right hand and gently touched her cheek. To my utter shock, she grabbed at my leather cut with her right hand. She took a handful and held a firm grip. I leaned forward, balancing on my crutches. My hand touching her face stayed there while my other hand slid around to her back.
I lived on the edge and always crossed the line. So I pulled her toward me and kissed her. My lips to her lips, there in the dark that she was so afraid of. Damn me, but I wanted to know why she was so afraid of the dark.
I broke the kiss and had nothing else to say to her.
Her lips tasted as sweet as she smelled. She left me wanting more.
I found myself a new craving…and things were going to get dangerous.
A prospect held the door open for me. I didn’t need anyone to hold a fucking door for me. I hobbled my way through, and everyone in the clubhouse stopped to stare at me. It was like all the life was suddenly gone. All eyes staring at me. I grabbed my right crutch and threw it as hard as I could. It whipped through the air. Austin and Xavier ducked out of the way. The crutch hit a pool table and bounced off, hitting the floor.
“What the fuck are you looking at?” I yelled.
“Easy, brother,” Tristan said. He grabbed my crutch and walked it to me. “We just haven’t seen you in a while.”
“It’s good to see you,” Austin called out.
“Here, here!” someone else shouted.
The entire clubhouse started to cheer for me.
Trev came barreling from the conference room, rage in his eyes. “What’s with the fucking noise?”
Then he looked at me.
Everyone shut up again.
Behind him, coming out of the conference room came the President of the Reno charter, Villie. He was tall, skinnier than Trev, tattoos running up his neck to his chin. He had a short beard, all gray, his hair pulled back tight in a ponytail. His hair was black and gray and went down almost to his ass.
His eyes were a bright blue color, but he was a vicious man.
He stuck his hand out for Trev to take. “Good talking to you, brother.”
“You too,” Trev said. “Thanks for holding the line from here to Reno. A lot of uncertainty, but good to know we have our brothers at our back.”
“Always,” Villie said.
He then walked through the clubhouse, his big-ass cowboy boots thudding against the floor, step by step. He walked right up to me and paused. His eyes looked me up and down. Then he nodded.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
“How’s the peg leg doing?” he asked.
I flared my nostrils. There were some serious punishments if I put my hands on the President of another charter. I wanted to knock his fucking jaw off his face, though.
“I’m standing,” I said. “Walking. Moving. I’ll be back on my ride before you know it.”
“Good. We have quite the overflow, and my guys would kill to sit at a table. Especially this one.”
“Nobody’s getting my seat,” I said. “Not until my heart stops beating.”
Villie made a gun with his fingers and touched my chest. “Pow, pow, brother.”
I made fists.
I was close to snapping.
Tristan grabbed my shoulder and shook me. “Nothing to worry about here. This asshole is the toughest guy I know.”
Villie looked back at Trev and nodded.
Then he walked out of the clubhouse.
It wasn’t until we heard his loud-ass motorcycle firing up did the tension in the clubhouse ease up a little.
I went right to Trev, maybe breaching respect a little. “What the hell is this about?”
“You want to put a few more inches between us, Hudson?” he asked. “Or should I?”
“Prez…”
Jasper entered the frame and put a hand to my chest. “Hudson, take a breath. We’re meeting with Presidents and VPs, trying to coordinate and communicate what’s happening.”
“What is happening?” I asked.
“Bryant called me,” Jasper said. “He said they have no beef with the MC. He and Garvan are over in Ireland right now settling up on business. They have members here in the States, but nothing near us.”
“So what does that mean?” I asked.
“Means either you didn’t see an Irishman, or something else is going on,” Trev said.
I looked at Prez. “You don’t believe me?”
“I didn’t say that, brother. We have multiple eyewitnesses on what happened and who was there.”
“Bryant wanted to know if there was a problem here,” Jasper said. “I told him to hang back for right now. Last thing we need is those fuckers sticking their heads into this mess.”
“Christ,” I said. “So we’ve got nothing.”
“Nothing is something, Hudson,” Prez said. “Now we just have to use what we know.”
“What did Villie say?” I asked.
“His boys are running back and forth from Reno to Oregon, helping move product into Canada. They’re holding a strong line on the major roads and have made calls for the back roads to be covered tight. I hate to say this, but we need something to happen. Just to get another whiff of what’s going on.”
“What if it was a once-and-done?” I asked. “I’m sure I’ve pissed off enough people that someone would want to take me out.”
“Shit, there’s probably a handful right in this clubhouse that want to take you out,” Prez said with a grin.
“Including you, Prez?”
“Only sometimes,” he said.
“Ah, fuck,” Cash said. “Prez, check the cameras.”
We all looked at the cameras and saw Chief Danielson pulling into the lot.
That was never a good thing. He didn’t just stop by to check on the club and see how things were going.
“Fuck,” Prez said. “Let’s see what this asshole wants.”
I took the crutch I’d thrown from Tristan and hobbled my way outside. Chief Danielson climbed out of his SUV with a folder in his hand. That was definitely not a good sign.
Prez took the lead, offering his hand, which Chief reluctantly shook.
“What do we owe this honor to?” Prez asked.
“Fuck your honor,” Chief said. Then he looked at me. “Heard about you. How’s the leg feeling?”
“Still attached,” I said. “Are you here about what happened to me?”
“No,” Chief said. “Sorry. A couple bikers getting run down by a SUV isn’t high on my priority list.”
“What about the store the two assholes shot up?” Jasper asked.
“I have a couple guys working it.”
“Look, we’re very busy right now,” Prez said. “I don’t see any backup with you, so I assume you’re not here to arrest us.”
“Don’t go that far ahead of yourself, Trev,” Chief said. He opened
his folder and looked down at the contents. “Got a call about a body found in a shallow grave. His feet were sticking out of the ground. A couple of runners found him.”
“Runners?” Cash asked. “What were they running from?”
“Heart problems and getting fat,” Chief said.
“Oh, those kinds of runners,” Cash said. “I get my cardio in a different way.” Cash grabbed his dick.
“Congrats to you,” Chief said.
“Why’s this any of our business?” Prez asked.
“Body in a shallow gave not too far from here,” Chief said. “Seems to be something you’d like to know about. Maybe make my life easy and admit to it.”
“Ah, come on, Chief,” Prez said. “Anyone who puts a body in a shallow grave wants it to be found. You and I know that.”
“Well, we found it,” Chief said. “Trying to pull up a name still. Want to see a picture and let me know what you think?”
“Sure,” Prez said. “We just work on motorcycles and help the town out. But why not put on our detective hats for a sec?”
“Don’t give me your bullshit, Trev.”
Chief Danielson turned the folder around and showed him the picture of the body found in the shallow grave.
“Means nothing,” Trev said. “I’ve never seen him before.”
“Pass it around.”
So the folder went around the guys. When it came to me, I damn near dropped the folder. It was a dead guy for sure. More than that, I knew who it was.
It was the guy with the sawed-off shotgun - the guy I shot twice.
I sat on the table outside and looked at everyone.
“That was the guy?” Prez asked.
“That’s the one,” I said. “He took a few shots at me. So I got him in the shoulders. Left and right. You saw that in the picture.”
“They can’t tie that to you, though,” Jasper said. “You know how we operate.”
“I’m not worried about that, VP,” I said. “His fucking throat was cut. That’s what did him in.”
Jasper nodded.
“That’s why he wasn't given medical care,” Cade said.
“His own guy took him out,” I said. “And purposely put him there as a message to us.”
“Fuck me,” Prez said. “He wanted him to be found. Wanted us to see he was capable of killing his own guy.”
