by Lane Hart
Still, I’m not ready to leave.
“Go to hell,” I mutter covering my head with a pillow. There’s an extra one since Joanna hasn’t slept in her bed with me since…well, since the day I went to see Giselle and Katrina. For some reason, she’s acted like she’s been mad at me ever since, but she’s still been taking care of me like no one else has ever done before.
“Fine we will, but we’re taking you with us,” Malcolm declares as he rips the pillow away from my fingers and Silas pulls the bedsheets off my body. Thankfully, I’m wearing a pair of boxer briefs or they all would’ve gotten an eyeful.
“Go easy on him!” Joanna warns from the doorway, just the sound of her voice making my dick twitch before I see her beautiful face. “He’s still healing from two gunshots.”
“I’ll take his shit to the car,” Nash says as he throws my clothes into a big bag. On the way out of the bedroom, I see him pull a thick envelope from his back pocket and hand it to his sister. I didn’t know that until Wirth told me. Joanna still doesn’t know they’re related, and I’m not sure if Nash is ever planning on telling her. It’s just another reason why I shouldn’t have missed having her sleep next to me the past few nights.
“You’ve already paid me plenty,” Joanna says to him.
“Take it,” Nash insists. “For the time you missed from work and meds you had to steal. Least we can do.”
Dammit. That makes me feel guilty since it’s my fault she missed work. No wonder she’s so ready to be rid of me.
“Thank you,” Joanna says softly as she takes the envelope.
“No, thank you,” Nash replies before he walks out of the room with my bag of clothes.
“If you all have any other medical emergencies, you know where to find me,” Joanna says, meeting my eyes for a quick second before they’re sadly gone.
“You’re a goddamn saint,” Malcolm says, kissing her cheek on the way out with Silas and Devlin behind him.
“What the fuck am I supposed to wear home?” I ask when I finally look around and remember Nash left with my clothes.
“Hold on,” Joanna says before she goes to the closet. I watch her ass like a hawk, except I don’t think hawks look at women and think about getting them naked and underneath them. She pulls out a blue robe and brings it over as I stand up beside the bed. I let her help pull it on just so I can be close to her this one last time.
“Nice look, man,” Wirth teases. “Now let’s go.”
“At least you’re all covered up now,” Joanna looks up at my face and says when she tries to pull the two sides of the robe together, but my shoulders are too broad.
Fuck, I’m going to miss her like crazy, waking up and seeing her beautiful face every morning. That’s why I do something stupid.
My hands shoot out, cradling her face gently in them to hold her still so I can bring my lips down to hers. I expect her to push me away when she realizes what I’m doing. But she doesn’t. Her lips kiss me back as her hands grab on to my shoulders, and then she opens them for me to slide my tongue inside, tasting more of her, not rushing the kiss but indulging, savoring every second. When she moans, telling me she’s enjoying it as much as I am, I groan into her mouth.
“Fiasco!” Wirth yells my name, making Joanna and I both jump since I didn’t even consider that we may have an audience. Fuck it. I don’t care.
Joanna breaks the kiss first, taking a step backward, but I can’t seem to make my feet leave.
“Come on, buddy,” Wirth says when he comes over and grabs my elbow to urge me to go with him. “You’re still surviving two gunshot wounds. No reason to make Nash add a third or a fourth.”
“It would be worth it,” I say with a heavy sigh.
“What?” Joanna asks. “Why would Nash care…”
“Ah, see ya, Joanna. Thanks again for everything!” Wirth calls back to her before hurrying me out of the house.
Chapter Seven
Joanna
“You’re back!” Casey says when she finds me sitting in the hospital cafeteria pushing my fork around my salad the first day back after Phillip left my care.
“I’m back,” I agree and try to give her a smile.
I haven’t lived in town long, but Casey and I became good friends fast, not just because we work in the same hospital but because we’re both young divorcees who bonded over our pain-in-the-ass exes. Now I guess we both have crushes on bikers.
She pulls out the chair on the other side of the table to sit down right across from me. “Does that mean that your…patient is better?”
“He’s recovering well. The guys came and took him home yesterday.”
“Then why does your tone of voice make it sound like he died?”
“That’s ridiculous. I don’t sound like that.”
“You didn’t want him to leave, did you?” she says with a smirk.
“Of course I wanted him to leave!” I exclaim. Lowering my voice, I tell her, “My job was to make sure he survived, and he did.”
“Yeah, but now you’re missing having a hot blond man in your bed.”
“Casey, you know he only slept in it. Nothing happened.” I remind her.
“He was unconscious the entire time I was there, but even a man like him on his death bed would try and get you out of your panties.”
My face flushes in a rush, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Casey. “What aren’t you telling me, Joanna?”
“Nothing,” I say, but that’s a lie and she’ll know it. “At least not much. He kissed me yesterday before he left.”
“He kissed you? That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“And said he wanted to see you again?”
“No.”
“What?” she scoffs. “Then it was just a quick peck on the cheek to say thanks and goodbye?”
“No, it was not on the cheek, and it wasn’t quick,” I admit, finally laying my fork down, giving up on eating lunch. “It was the kind of kiss that usually leads to much more.”
“So why didn’t it? Was he too sick to get it up?” She props her chin in her palm. “You know, Hunt had the same problem at first, but it was nothing a little enthusiastic oral couldn’t fix…”
“Casey!” I chastise her as I glance around to make sure no one overheard. I would prefer that our coworkers not find out that she came to my house to help with our biker patients the night of the shooting, and then helped Hunt with more than his injury in my bathroom.
“What? I could’ve said blowjob instead of oral.” She laughs at the shocked look on my face. “You take sex way too seriously, Joanna. Trust me, it was fun, and I have no regrets at all. Hunt even invited me to come visit him in Wilmington…”
“He did?” I say in surprise.
Casey rolls her eyes at me. “I know that doesn’t mean much given the source. He’s an outlaw biker who nearly had his head blown off in a shootout with some rivals. Still, at least he offered to see me again.”
“Yes, at least he offered,” I agree. “One of the other guys interrupted me and Fiasco saying something odd about how Nash would be pissed at him. Then, Fiasco just walked out without saying another word to me!”
“If you want to see Fiasco, you know where to find him,” Casey points out. “Everyone knows about the Dirty Aces pool hall.”
“I can’t just show up there.”
“Why not?”
I shake my head. “I’m not going to pursue him. That’s too…desperate.” Casey shrugs and looks around the cafeteria, avoiding my eyes. “What?” I ask her.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“But you were thinking it. Just tell me.”
“Fine! I was considering going to see Hunt, even if it makes me look desperate.”
“Really?”
“There are some benefits to having no-strings attached, crazy hot sex with an attractive man.”
“And what would that be?”
“The crazy hot sex part,” she says with a grin. “Women have needs too. My e
x-husband spent the last few years telling me that I wasn’t pretty or sexy and that no other men would want me. It’s nice to finally have a little male attention, someone who thinks I’m everything he said I wasn’t.”
“Then maybe you should go…”
“Will you come with me?” she asks.
“No,” I say without even needing to think about it. “Sorry, but I don’t think I could do that. Hunt invited you, not me.”
“You know Fiasco probably won’t be in Wilmington. I’m sure you could find another pretty biker boy to tend to in your bed.”
“I wish I was confident enough for a one-night stand, but I’m not that kind of girl and you know it.”
“If you say so,” Casey replies. “That will leave more bikers for me.”
“More bikers? I would think that you would have your hands full with Hunt,” I tell her with a grin.
Flashing a smile that would rival the Cheshire cat, she says, “Oh, Joanna. You have no idea what a handful or mouthful Hunt is!”
I hold my hands up in front of me in protest while laughing. “Nor do I ever need to know either.”
She laughs and then gets up. “I’m going to find something to eat. Will you at least consider coming with me on Friday?”
For half a second, I consider getting dressed up and going with Casey to a biker bar full of rowdy men, but I just don’t see that happening. I’m too shy and self-conscious. Besides, there’s only one biker I want to see, and Casey’s right, Fiasco probably won’t be there.
Chapter Eight
Fiasco
“You’re looking pale, man. Maybe it’s time to take a break,” Devlin says when his shadow moves over me on the part of the roof where I’m working.
“Can’t,” I tell him, reaching for another nail. “Need the money.”
“You also need to not pass out and break your fucking neck when you fall off the roof, Fiasco!”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine! You just got shot less than two weeks ago!”
I stop hammering to look up at his face, not because he told me to take a break but because I honestly don’t know if I can raise my arm again at the moment to hit another nail. “That’s right, I haven’t earned a paycheck in almost two weeks! I have to keep going whether or not my body wants me to.”
“At least go get some water,” Devlin suggests. “Please? I’ll take over here until you get back. You know, with your luck, you’ll end up in the hospital with broken bones if you fall off here, and that’ll be more weeks you’ll miss.”
“Fine,” I mutter when he kneels down and takes over the hammering.
I crawl over to the ladder on my hands and knees because I honestly don’t know if my legs will hold my weight. And jeez, I’m dizzy as fuck as I climb down. I swipe my water bottle from the cooler, a big yellow monster, and sit down on the ground with my back against a tree to drink it down.
Never in my life have I felt this weak. It makes me feel like a fucking pussy. The goddamn bullet wounds are still draining me while they heal, or at least that’s what Joanna told me would happen. I believe her too since she’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. She also told me I shouldn’t go back to work for at least four to six weeks, but that’s not exactly an option.
Damn, I miss waking up in her bed that smells like lavender, seeing her beautiful face and having her take care of me all day and night. Nobody has ever done that for me before. When I was a kid, if I got sick, I had to stay home by myself while my mom and her boyfriend were at work, which meant I still had to feed myself and I was fucking lucky if we had any meds. Even the over-the-counter shit is expensive. My mom used to tell me that it would pass, whatever hurt me. Sore throat? It’ll pass in a few days. Throwing up? It’ll be gone in twenty-four hours. A cold? Get your ass out of bed and get to school, Phillip. You know you can’t afford to miss a day, or you won’t pass this year either!
I hated both times that I had to repeat the same grade in elementary school. Everyone in the old class made fun of me the next year when I was with the smaller kids. And the new kids picked on me for being bigger than they were because I was too stupid to move up a grade.
When I was sixteen, I finally dropped out of school. By then, my mom was never around, so she didn’t know or care. Even if she did, it’s not like she could’ve physically dragged my ass to the high school when I was a foot taller than her and outweighed her by fifty pounds. The worst part of dropping out was no more free meals. I had to get a job at a fast-food restaurant working long, shitty hours, but at least I could sneak and eat as much food as I wanted.
“Fiasco!” Mike, our foreman, calls out, snapping me out of the daze I was in.
“Yeah, boss?” I ask when I pull myself to my feet and they actually are strong enough to hold me.
“Stop daydreaming and get back to work!” he says. “Dev is good, but he can’t do the work of two men and there’s rain coming tonight.”
“Yes, sir,” I reply, taking one last sip of water before I head back up the ladder.
After the longest twelve-hour shift of my entire fucking life, I find myself driving past the street to my rundown apartment complex. I keep right on going, which I know is an idiotic move. I need to be in bed sleeping off this fatigue, not stalking a gorgeous woman.
I really don’t know what the fuck I’m doing riding down Joanna’s street. No matter how badly I want to see her, I doubt she wants to see me. The Dirty Aces were nothing but a burden on her, one that Nash said he regrets, but they didn’t have any other option when I was dying.
I shiver at the reminder of the pain and then the days of a high fever, how it felt like I was drowning in darkness until my eyes finally opened. That’s when I saw Joanna for the first time taking care of me. Kissing her before leaving yesterday was idiotic, because now I just want to do it again and I can’t. She’s Nash’s sister, and he wants us to leave her alone.
I slow down on my bike enough to see a light on in her living room, but I don’t catch even a glimpse of her as I drive by. Did I really think she would be taking out the trash or checking the mail at the exact time of night I drove by? I’m so dumb.
I turn right at the stop sign, heading for the highway, finally ready to get a shower and get to bed when a dark shadow suddenly darts in front of my bike. I hit the brakes hard to try and stop myself, but it’s too late. I hit whatever it is hard enough that I go flying through the air, landing on my back with a hard thud.
It takes several long moments for the air to return to my lungs from the impact. When I can breathe again, my fingers reach out to my sides as I try to push myself up into a sitting position and I feel grass. Guess I was lucky I didn’t land on the pavement or in the middle of the road. I manage to roll to my uninjured side and then push myself up to my knees, removing my helmet and tossing it down beside me to gasp in more oxygen. A few feet away from me, my bike is laying on its side in the road, the headlight shining in my direction. There’s something in front of it – a large mass bigger than a cat but smaller than a person.
Shit! What the hell did I hit?
My legs are still too weak to stand on yet, so I crawl back onto the road toward the injured animal, afraid of what I’ll find. Please let it be a deer or even a skunk.
When I hear a high-pitched whimper, it’s an all too familiar sound. I know without a doubt what the hell I hit. My chest aches as if my ribs have been cracked wide open. I touch a puddle of liquid that smells like pennies, glad that it’s dark and the light isn’t shining directly on it.
Reaching forward, my fingertips touch soft fur, and the dog whines again either because it hurts or it’s scared I’ll hurt it again.
“I’m sorry, so sorry, girl,” I say as wetness trickles down my face. I stupidly try to wipe it away which only adds the sticky substance to mix with the tears. “Fuck!” I scream not knowing what to do.
All I know is that I can’t just sit here and let the poor thing die because I hit it.
Now what the fuck am I going to do?
I’ve got to get us off the road, but I can’t carry the dog in my arms on the bike, even if it’s drivable, which I’m guessing it’s probably not. Later, I’ll get Wirth to come round it up, but right now the dog’s life is more important than the damn bike.
I look left and right on the quiet stretch of road before my eyes are drawn back to the stop sign I just came from.
Could Joanna help? She’s a nurse, and right now that’s better than nothing. I start walking back in the direction of her house. And when I know I can move faster without falling, I pick up my speed until I’m jogging.
I make it up her porch, then bang my boot against the door since I can’t knock with my hand without dropping the dog that feels a lot heavier than it was a few seconds ago.
The main door opens, and then she’s standing there – a sight for sore eyes. Her dark hair is pulled up all cute and messy, and she’s wearing a pink, spaghetti strap satin top and matching shorts. For a second, I’m so distracted by her beauty that I forget why I’m here. Then her eyes widen, and she slaps a hand over her gaping mouth in horror.
God, she must think I’m a monster for hurting an innocent animal.
“Please help her,” I say through the glass door.
Joanna finally unlocks and pushes the glass door open for me to come inside.
“Phillip…what happened?”
“I hit her with my bike,” I admit. “She ran right in front of me. I tried to stop. I swear I did!”
“Oh no. That’s awful! Are you okay?” she asks, searching my face. “You’re bleeding.” Her fingers swipe my cheek and come away with a pink tint.
“I think it’s all her blood, not mine,” I explain. “Please, Joanna. Can you save her? You have to help her!”
