BAD BOY ROMANCE: DIESEL: Contemporary Bad Boy Biker MC Romance (Box Set) (New Adult Sports Romance Short Stories Boxset)

by Parker, Kylee

  “Of course not. It’s Badon.”

  Jason choked slightly on his coffee and coughed.

  Taylor and Constantine’s eyes slid to him. His usually alcohol fed red face was redder than normal.

  “Do you…do you know something?” Constantine demanded.

  Jason stared at her blankly before making a fast recovery. “Of course not!”

  Taylor returned her attention to Harrison. “Where’s your mother?”

  “At home…in Louisiana.”

  “I don’t have time for this crap!” She said suddenly and stood. Harrison reached forward and grabbed her by the wrist. “Take your hand off of me.” Her voice was ice, sprinkling its effect on all of them.

  Harrison’s eyes were earnest. “Taylor, I’ve waited a long time to meet you. My mother told me about you, and I obeyed every rule about the trust fund! I just want to know you!”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s only been me and my mother for my whole life.” He replied quietly.

  Taylor stared down at him. Her expression never changed. “That’s your bad luck.” She addressed Jason directly. “Take care of this problem. I need to get back to Namir.”

  Namir turned his head slowly from side to side. He didn’t want to risk opening an eye. He was too afraid of the blinding light. He felt a pressure on the bed beside him, and cool hands touched his face.

  “Namir?” Taylor whispered.

  “Hey.” His throat was still raw, and his voice still came out like gravel. He wished he knew why his lips felt so funny. He reached a hand upwards to try and feel them.

  Taylor placed a hand over his, and gently pushed it back down. He voice was soft, but firm. “Don’t do that.”

  “What’s wrong…with my lips?” He tried to blink his eyes open, but something was preventing him. He could barely make out Taylor’s face. Something was over his eyes. He tried to reach upward again, but Taylor’s hand once again stopped him. “What…I can’t…”

  “It’s ok, Namir. It’s just gauze over your eyes. It’s to protect them for a few days.”

  “Tell me.” He said weakly. He could feel himself fading fast.

  “Do you remember the explosion?”

  “Yes.”

  “You have some damage, but you’ll be fine. Concussion. Burns. Your lips are burned some.”

  “Will…I…”

  “Shhh, go back to sleep. I’ll be here.”

  Taylor listened to his breath become deep and even. She watched him worriedly and willed the tears away again. She didn’t care about the inconvenience of her body guard being out commission for the time being. She cared that Namir was laying in that hospital bed. She brushed a tear away angrily. Movement caught her attention, and she turned her head to see Greta standing in the doorway. Taylor slid off the bed and went to the door to embrace her. She held one of Taylor’s designer bags in her hands.

  “I brought you some things.”

  “Thank you, Greta.”

  The older woman stammered her words. “I didn’t know…I just didn’t know what to do! That young man called, and…and Mr. Breslow confirmed…”

  Taylor took the bag out of her hands. “It’s ok, Greta. I know you didn’t mean to do anything wrong.”

  Greta sighed and held her hands up in a helpless gesture. “I just can’t believe it! Mr. Randall was such a good man!”

  Taylor’s eyes narrowed. “We don’t know for certain that he is my brother.”

  Greta nodded. “Where are the others?”

  “In the cafeteria having a great time.” She said sarcastically.

  Greta took a step towards Namir’s bed. Her face wrinkled with concern. “How is he?”

  Taylor sighed and shook her head. “He’ll be fine, but we don’t know yet if he’ll recover full vision.”

  Greta crossed herself and murmured a prayer. She lowered her voice further, her eyes still on Namir. “The police will be coming again.”

  “I told them to stay away for now!” Taylor said, and placed her hands on her hips.

  Greta touched her arm lightly. “They will take this business serious now.”

  “Good. Maybe they can question Harrison Badon in the process.” She turned her face to Greta’s. “Please take Constantine and Jason back with you.”

  Greta grimaced, causing Taylor to laugh. Taylor covered her mouth with her hand and looked quickly at Namir’s bed as he stirred.

  “Please?” She whispered.

  “Ach!” The woman threw her hands in the air and lifted her eyes to the ceiling. “I’ll see what I can do.” She became serious. “What about you? Your guard isn’t able to guard right now. Who’ll keep you safe?”

  Taylor jutted her chin towards the bed. “Right now, that’s the least of my concerns.”

  Greta tilted her head to the side, her eyes inquisitive. “This young man has become more than just an employee?”

  Taylor couldn’t keep her face neutral and nodded vigorously. “But don’t tell my mother.” She whispered.

  “Oh no! I wouldn’t!” Greta glanced at Namir. It hurt her to see his head bandaged, and two IV bags hanging over his head. “He’s special. I hope he feels the same towards you.”

  “I’m pretty sure he does.” Taylor smiled.

  Greta’s face became serious again. She hesitated.

  “What is it?”

  “I just wonder…” She began. “If he can’t recover his sight fully?”

  Taylor nodded and pursed her lips. “Will I be the bitchy celebrity, counting my losses, and cutting him loose?”

  Greta nodded silently.

  “I’m turning a new leaf, Greta. My bitchiness is reserved for only the deserving.” She looked at Namir, but spoke to Greta. “I’ll take care of him.”

  Greta looked at the young woman’s profile and wondered when she had finally grown up. She imagined it had happened these couple months with the arrival of Namir Stone into her life.

  “I put a few special things in your bag.” She said hurriedly. “I hear your mother’s voice. I better intercept.” She turned at the door. “Don’t worry about Lancelot. I’m taking good care of him.”

  Taylor nodded and shut the hospital room door behind her, returning to Namir’s bedside. A few minutes later Jason stuck his head in the door.

  “Greta has insisted we need baths and a hot meal. Do you mind?”

  “Nope. Make sure Harrison not really my brother Badon leaves too.”

  Jason frowned. “He has already, but I’m sure he’ll be back.”

  Taylor glared at him until his head disappeared and the door shut again. She took the bag Greta had brought and unzipped it. Greta always got things right. She had packed two clean t-shirts, jeans, and yoga pants. There was also a small makeup bag, deodorant and a new toothbrush. The bag was still heavy and she reached into the bottom moving the underwear and bra to pull out her copy of Wuthering Heights and a crossword puzzle book. There was also a brand new journal style notebook and a pack of pens. Taylor frowned as she looked at it. She opened the front cover and saw where Greta had written a note on the first page.

  Write and write some more. You’ve loved books, now it’s time to write something of your own. With love, Greta.

  Taylor ran her hand over the page, a surge of emotion running through her. No one had ever stopped to encourage her to do something just for herself before. Excitement began to build in her stomach and chest. With a smile she tore open the pack of pens and took the notebook to the chair by Namir’s bed. She opened the blinds just enough to give herself extra light. She poised the pen over the next clean page. Her mind was racing. She finally settled and calmed her thoughts, placing the pen on the paper.

  Once there was a girl with flaxen hair, and she roamed the woods everyday with her pet wolf, searching for true love….

  Namir felt like his body was on fire. His head felt better, but there was a burning from within. He didn’t know if he were actually awake or dreaming. His mind began playing a memory
from Afghanistan. He wanted to stop it, but didn’t know how to.

  “I don’t understand! He was thrown over twenty feet! I saw the damage to his skull!” The field doctor touched Namir’s neck. “He’s burning up too!

  Sergeant Murdock leaned over Namir and frowned. His eyes lifted to the doctor. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying when he was airlifted out, he should have already been dead!”

  Namir’s memories changed and his eyes moved under the lids rapidly as he was suddenly sitting next to a field full of deer, orange, yellow, and red leaved drifting out the ground around himself and his father.

  “Never kill, Namir, unless you have to.” His arm swept towards the deer grazing in the field. “Even one of these should only be taken for food, and nothing else.”

  His father grabbed his arm and opened a pocket knife as thirteen year old Namir’s eyes widened and he tried to pull away. The blade punctured his skin and blood rose to the surface of the cut as his father pulled the blade opening a two inch gap in his skin. Tears welled in Namir’s eyes as he looked at his father in disbelief.

  “Just wait.” His father said gently.

  They watched as the blood flow slowly stopped and the cut shrank in on itself slightly. Namir could feel heat radiating from the wound.

  “What’s happening?”

  “You’re body’s healing itself. It’s one of the many Werewolf gifts.”

  “I’m invincible?” Namir smiled shakily.

  “No, not invincible. Minor injuries will heal very quickly. More serious ones will take longer, but your body will be able to sustain far more than a human.” He held up a finger, his dark eyes stern. “You can still die, Namir.”

  Namir gasped and blinked his eyes rapidly. His body was drenched in sweat. He reached up and tried to pull the gauze from his face.

  “Hold on! Don’t do that!” Taylor’s voice was urgent. Namir thought he heard something fall as she sat beside him. “Why are you trying to take these off, huh?” Her voice was exhausted, but not unkind.

  “I wanted to see you.”

  Taylor smiled at how much better his voice sounded, and his lips weren’t as puffy. “Feeling better?” She touched his face. “You feel hot. I better get the nurse!”

  Namir reached for her as she darted off the bed. He could hear her tennis shoes squeak slightly as she halted to open the door.

  “I’m fine!” He tried to call after her.

  “Well, well, let’s see what’s happening.” Cool hands touched his wrist for several seconds. “Pulse is a little high. Were you having a bad dream, Mr. Stone?”

  Namir nodded. He didn’t know what else to call it.

  “I’m going to take your temperature, Mr. Stone.”

  Namir felt her hands touch his ear as the thermometer was placed just inside his ear. It only took a few seconds.

  “Hmm. 102. Mr. Stone, are you feeling nauseated?”

  “No. I actually feel better.”

  The nurse spoke briefly to Taylor. “I’m going to get the on call doctor to come in.”

  “What time is it?”

  He felt the pressure as Taylor sat back down. “2:30.”

  “A.M.?”

  “Yes.” Taylor touched his forehead and wiped sweat from her hand discreetly on the side of her pants leg. “You really are hot.”

  “I’m fine, trust me.”

  The nurse returned with the on call doctor, a young man that looked barely old enough to be past his internship. Taylor looked doubtfully at his tightly curled blonde hair and blue eyes.

  “Hello, I’m Doctor Grant.” He smiled at her. “Mr. Stone, how are you feeling?”

  “Better.”

  “I understand you want your bandages off.”

  “Yes.”

  Namir felt warm hands on the sides of his head and the bed began to move his upper body into more of a sitting position. The gauze was pulled away from his eyes.

  “Now open them slowly.” The Doctor Grant said.

  Namir blinked and felt only the mildest pain as the dim light of the room penetrated his eyes. Only the edges of his vision was blurry. He could see Taylor rocking back and forth chewing on her thumb. Her large gray eyes worriedly watching.

  “Mr. Stone, I want you to focus on my pen and try to follow it with your eyes as I move it.”

  The doctor held up a blue ball point pen in front of his face and began moving it from left to right.

  “Good. How’s your headache?”

  “Dull.”

  Doctor Grant glanced through his chart and smiled. “Well, that’s an improvement.” He looked at the nurse. “Let’s go ahead and give him two Tylenol, and see if he’ll drink at least four ounces of water.”

  The nurse nodded and left the room. Namir saw that she was a heavy set African American woman with gold and brown corkscrew curls on her head.

  “Alright, Namir. I’ll let Doctor Curtis know and maybe you can have some breakfast in the morning.” He smiled and nodded his head at Namir, and then at Taylor.

  “What about the fever?”

  “I’m going to order some more blood work, just to make sure there isn’t infection or some other problem. It could just be his body healing itself.”

  Taylor looked at him doubtfully again.

  If you only knew. Namir thought.

  The nurse returned with the water and two white pills that Taylor assumed were the Tylenol.

  “Try to get some more rest, Mr. Stone.” She said. “Just come get me if he needs anything. I’ll check his temperature again in an hour.”

  “Thank you.” Taylor said, as the nurse left again.

  “She’s been one of the more competent ones.” She said, taking her usual spot on the bedside.

  “How long have I been here?”

  “Almost three days.”

  “So, it’s Tuesday?”

  Taylor smiled, pleased that he was so sharp. “Yes. At approximately eight in the morning, you will have been here for three days.”

  “How’s Lancelot?”

  “Greta’s taking good care of him.” She casually took his hand in hers, locking her thumb over his.

  Namir looked at her with concern. “You have dark circles. You haven’t been home have you?”

  Taylor shook her head.

  “You need to get some rest. Go home.”

  “I will not.”

  “I’m sure Jason can look after you until I return.”

  Taylor’s face stiffened, and she slid her hand from his. “You think I’m here because I’m too scared to go home?”

  Namir widened his eyes and ignored the pain that slight movement caused him. “No! I just see you’re tired!”

  Taylor considered his words, deciding he was telling the truth. She took his hand again.

  “Is something else wrong?” Namir asked, his words beginning to slur as he began to feel sleepy again. “Damn, Doctor. I think they gave me something to sleep too.”

  “No, you’re body just still needs to.”

  Namir tried to focus. He could tell that something was wrong. “Really, what else is going on?”

  “Isn’t this enough?” Taylor tried to smile, having no intention of telling him about Harrison right then.

  Namir’s eyes began to flutter. “No…something’s wrong…I can…smell it.”

  Taylor frowned as Namir once again drifted into peaceful sleep. He can smell it? She shook her head and snickered. He says weird things sometimes.

  Harrison held the hotel to phone to his head a little too tightly and felt pain shoot up his ear and into his head. His mother could be an intimidating but also infuriating woman.

  “I think you need to try harder to convince them of who you are.” Her voice was smooth. Harrison supposed that to a man’s ear she would sound alluring.

  “Taylor has some stuff going on right now. I’ll just give it a few days.”

  “She’s a spoiled brat!” His mother snapped.

  Harrison closed his e
yes. He’d heard that mantra for twenty one years. “I’ll call you later, Mom.”

  In an instant she was back to her in complete control voice. “Alright, son. Make sure that you do.”

  Harrison sighed at the click on the other end. He hated disappointing his mother, but this wasn’t something he could force. All great plans take time and patience. A lot of patience.

  Doctor Curtis came in just before nine and was happy to see Namir sitting up in bed. He flipped open the chart, his eyes moving quickly.

  “Well, you’ve made quite an improvement.” He stepped beside the bed and shone a pen light in each of Namir’s eyes. “Does that hurt?”

  “No.”

  “How’s the headache?”

  “Almost completely gone.”

  “And your vision?”

  “As clear as it ever was.”

  Doctor Curtis tilted his head with the slightest furrow to his brow. “Really?”

  Namir nodded.

  “Impressive. If I didn’t know better, I’d say we were witnessing a miracle.” He winked at Taylor.

  “Can I eat?”

  “I’ll have the nurse bring you some crackers and ginger ale. If you hold that down ok, I’ll let you have something else.”

  Namir was positive he could eat the left side of a cow right then, but he didn’t complain. “When do you think I can get out of here?”

  Doctor Curtis put his hands behind his back, holding the chart against his lower back. “If you continue to improve this rapidly, I think maybe tomorrow or the next day. Eat your crackers, and I’ll the nurse get you up and test your walking skills. Three days is a long time to be in bed.”

  Namir sighed. “I wish I could get out of here now.”

  “I know. Me too.”

  The door to the hospital room opened and Constantine waltzed in with Jason.

  “Yeah I really wish we could leave now.” Taylor mumbled.

  “Namir! You’re up! Fabulous!” Constantine gushed, seating herself in the chair under the wall mounted TV. She looked like she was ready to go to some kind of Gala premiere.

  Jason on the other hand looked like he had slept in his clothes again. His light tan shirt was wrinkled and Taylor was sue there was a coffee stain on it. “Jason, go home and change.” Taylor said disdainfully.