Vengeance (Steel Kings MC Book 3)

by Jamie Garrett

  Doc smiled back, leaning forward to assess Shakespeare’s wound, in part to get out of having to answer. The comment was having a laugh, a good-natured ribbing at a brother’s expense, but Doc had no doubts as to Grady’s abilities. The man could put an enemy down from across town, let alone in his own backyard. There were likely more Jokers out there with bullet wounds, ones that hadn’t survived long enough to make the trip to the hospital. Given they’d attacked the club in broad daylight in retaliation for the Steel Kings rescuing someone they’d kidnapped, Doc couldn’t bring himself to feel sorry for them. Looking at the long gash across Shakespeare’s arm, though, he couldn’t suppress a chill. They’d been lucky—very damned lucky—that this was their only significant injury.

  He pulled out a suture kit from his box of treasures, holding it up for Shakespeare to see. “Want to do this here or downstairs?”

  Shakespeare shrugged. “Here’s fine. Would like to stay with the boys. The women are due back as soon as this place is cleared up.”

  Doc nodded. He didn’t particularly want to venture back down to his basement surgery right now, either. Normally, it was a good place to be alone, but alone was the last thing he wanted to be right now. If he was honest with himself, the confrontation with Ava had shaken him, more than he’d been in a long while. Spending time with his club brothers seemed like a damn good antidote. Most of the guys were busy, cleaning up broken glass and securing doors and walls that had been damaged. It would take a while to get everything back to how it was before, but they could at least make the place secure again quickly enough with the talents and contacts the club had.

  With a little more rummaging through the box, he found everything he’d need to treat Shakespeare right there, entirely avoiding the need to visit his makeshift office. They continued chatting while Doc prepared the local. The only sign that Shakespeare had felt anything was a small wince as the needle penetrated the wound. He’d just started tying off the second stitch when a loud noise came from down the hall that led to the front door. “Levi Wilder! Where the fuck are you?” Looked like the day’s drama wasn’t over yet.

  With a quick wave from Levi, Seth grabbed whatever they’d been studying together and ran off to the back room with it. That room was their meeting room, the place they held church, and also where they stored the club’s arsenal. Doc recognized the voice echoing down the hall as quickly as Levi obviously had, and wasn’t surprised at all that Levi had sent Seth off quickly. Whatever it was, it was club business, and nothing to do with the local Sheriff currently striding into the main room.

  The room went quiet, club members stopping in their tracks, as Levi turned and tipped an imaginary hat to the man. “Sheriff. Why are you here? Come to visit on this fine day?”

  The man rolled his eyes, resting his hands conspicuously on his waist, his fingers brushing over his service weapon. “You know damn well why I’m here, Wilder. In the middle of the damn day?! Innocent civilians could have been killed or seriously injured.”

  Vlad faced the sheriff, his stance wide and arms crossed across his chest, likely with the glare switched to high beam. “First, Jack, it wasn’t like we had any say in the matter. Second, I assure you no one innocent was hurt.”

  The sheriff peered over Levi’s shoulder at Doc and Shakespeare and echoed Shakespeare’s earlier snort. Doc kept stitching, though he could feel the man’s gaze burning into the back of his head. “You know I do what I can, Levi, but I can’t condone this. Even if you didn’t instigate today, there’s no way in hell this was out of the blue. You had to know it was likely. You’re smarter than that.”

  Doc waited to see how much the King’s president would share, not surprised at all when Levi kept his mouth shut. He knew exactly why the Jokers had attacked their compound—they all did. But not a soul moved, even as the sheriff’s gaze returned to roaming the room. The may have a tenuous peace accord with the local cops, but they were still the Steel Kings, and club business was club business. They’d handle their own.

  Besides, Doc got the feeling that the last thing Levi wanted was to give law enforcement any reason to look at them more closely, even in a non-official light. Their president’s past was locked up in a vault nearly as tight as Doc’s was, and the man clearly liked it that way. All Doc knew was that Levi had the same contempt as he did for those who used innocent women and children as pawns, and he would suffer no one who treated them badly. He kept out of the way of the local law to keep their operations running mostly unimpeded. Levi didn’t want the man’s help, and he sure as hell didn’t want the attention. “Sorry, Sheriff. Can’t help you. It was a surprise attack, and we had no idea what instigated it or who the perpetrators were. Perhaps a vigilante group who doesn’t like bikers.”

  The sheriff’s hand that lay over his gun twitched, but he otherwise didn’t move, save the smallest tilt of his lip. You couldn’t call it a smile, even a little bit, but perhaps the beginning of a wry grin. The man likely knew before he’d walked through the door what kind of response he was going to get from Levi. “Just promise me, no more public shootouts for a while. Otherwise it’ll be out of my hands.”

  Levi held his arms wide, palms up in acquiescence, before giving a small shrug. “Can’t promise what I can’t control, Jack, but I’ll keep our part of it private.”

  The sheriff’s eyes hardened. “Stay out of it, Levi. For all our sakes.” Levi’s hands moved to his hips, echoing the sheriff’s stance, but he didn’t say another word. The sheriff let out a small breath, dropped his arms, and turned, leaving as suddenly as he’d arrived.

  Doc watched as Levi continued to stand stock still for five more seconds, then he broke the silence in the room. “Church, now!”

  5

  Ava

  Ava gathered her things from her locker, rubbing at her neck. She hadn’t felt much at the time, from an adrenaline rush probably, but now, an hour after the confrontation in the waiting room, the abraded skin around her throat was starting to give her hell. A strong, deep ache had settled in, and every breath or swallow spiked a sharp reminder of exactly how lucky she’d been. Despite a plethora of TV shows that made it seem simple, strangling someone was actually pretty damn difficult. Sure, you could render someone unconscious in probably just a few minutes, if you had the physical strength and a size advantage on the victim, but most strangulation victims actually died of asphyxia—they simply ran out of oxygen. That didn’t mean you couldn’t get into some serious shit quickly; broken hyoid bone, damage to the larynx. Of course, going unconscious also made it that much easier to finish the job without all that nasty thrashing about.

  A shudder ran through her. Where the hell had the security guards been? If it hadn’t been for Connor showing up when he had, she’d have been toast. Lights out, the final sayonara. She shivered again. Thoughts of her death terrified her, but she had no clue what she felt about Connor showing up out of nowhere. She shook her head. It hadn’t been out of nowhere. It had been a biker that had threatened her, a biker that had attacked her, and there he’d been, wearing the same leather jacket with the sleeves cut off as the rest of them.

  Except it hadn’t been the same. Not exactly.

  She leaned forward, her forehead thumping softly against her locker. The change rooms were in the basement, dingy and poorly lit, and so most of the staff spent as little time as possible in the space. Today, that was perfect. It meant no one else was going to witness her losing her shit.

  She rubbed briskly at her arms, trying to dispel the goosebumps that refused to quit. Damn, why was the room so cold? Dying had always scared her, just a little. Her family had thought it was all a big joke, a doctor creeped out by death. They hadn’t seen what she had, though. Even when she was still in med school, she’d see the damage done to cadavers brought in for practice, then on live, still-screaming humans when they’d come through the hospital doors. Then again, it’s not like the quiet ones were any easier. The ones who had long ago expected death, even welcomed it.
>
  She could understand, intellectually, but in her heart the idea of giving up, of not fighting . . . a memory swam into her mind. It had been a long labor, nearly a full day of excruciating pain. She’d squeezed the hand of her nurse and good friend so hard she’d nearly broken a finger, but other than that, she’d been alone. After the doctor had placed that squirming, crying little bundle in her arms, though, Ava realized she’d never be alone again. Emily had looked up at her with wide eyes, grabbing onto Ava’s finger for dear life when she’d brushed her touch over the tiny fist. Suddenly, life was wonderful again. Amazing. Emily was her greatest work, her heart, and her responsibility. How could she not fight for every single second of time she got to spend with her?

  But Connor . . .

  They’d been good, once. Amazing, too. It often was, at first, she assumed. She looked up at the bare bulb swinging lightly in the light fixture above her head. How long had she been standing there lost in thought? It probably wasn’t a good idea to stand around in an empty room, paying absolutely no attention to her surroundings. You didn’t often see civilians in the locker rooms, but she’d never been strangled in the damn waiting room before today, either.

  She threw on a sweater, dumped her lab coat in her tote bag, and hurried out the door, turning left. She should go back to the elevators, back up to the wards and out the main door, where there were people. But there might also be Connor, or worse, more members of the gang who’d attacked her. She’d take her chances with the smaller staff exit, the parking lot being not too far away.

  The sunlight surprised her when she stepped outside. Somehow it seemed like hours and hours had passed, when in reality, it was barely the end of her shift. She’d started early that morning, requesting the shift so she could be at home to cook Emily dinner and spend some proper time with her before the toddler was sound asleep. Today she’d even be a little early, her supervisor telling her to leave early after the . . . incident. That was one good thing, but she’d have to find some sort of scarf before she got home, lest she scare Emily and her babysitter. Ava wasn’t in the mood to share the whole sordid story.

  Connor. Yep, because then she’d have to say his name again, out loud, and that was something she swore she’d never do. It was too damn painful. She should have seen the end coming, of course, but somehow it had still blindsided her. Life had been great, in the beginning, and for most of the middle, too. They worked long hours, both being third year residents, but they understood. Unlike colleagues, who were always complaining their partner got angry when they were delayed for an emergency, or couldn’t understand when you came home with a bad mood, they got it, and they were always there for each other. Until that one night, Connor had come home with a bad mood she couldn’t shift.

  They’d made a promise early on that they wouldn’t talk about whatever horrors they’d seen on their shift. Then it would just be in both their heads. They could understand, yes, but that also meant they understood the madness. Why have the bad case haunting them both all night, when it was easier to fuck each other’s brains out instead? That visceral touch, skin sliding against skin, his touch, and his cock, both reaching deep inside her, all encompassing, taking over and making her feel everything—and anything other than the hard day she’d had. So that night, she’d drawn down his scrub pants with a twinkle in her eye and wrapped her lips around the head of his dick. He’d been hard, flush with blood, and his moans and groans had all been in the right place as he’d shot his load across her tongue. He’d even made sure she found her pleasure after, fucking her with his fingers until she came apart. Then he’d stood and walked into the shower, then bed, when he’d drawn her into his arms. She’d fallen asleep quickly, oblivious to Connor’s insomnia until she’d woken hours later to find him still staring up at the ceiling. She’d rested her head on his shoulder and he’d seemed to settle. Had she been wrong about that, too?

  It had happened again the next night, and the next, until by the end of the week the bags under his eyes were obvious from across the room. Even then, he hadn’t snapped at her or lost his temper due to what must have been sheer exhaustion. But he’d fallen further and further away from her, until the morning she’d laid in bed in his arms and realized he was a million miles away. His body may have been there with her, going through the motions, but his mind was elsewhere, and had been since that night he’d come home, looking pale and worn out, as if he was carrying the weight of the whole world on his back.

  She’d said as much over breakfast, and he hadn’t said a word, but that night he’d dragged her underneath him, his hand squeezing her breast hard enough for a small thrill of pain to shoot through her as his talented lips and tongue found her pussy, licking her to multiple orgasms. He’d kept going, pulling wave after wave of pleasure from her body, until she was too exhausted herself to realize that he hadn’t said a word to her. Not that night. Not even that day. No silly texts or flirty comments over lunch. Not a single word from the moment she’d accused him of pulling away from her that morning. She’d asked him if he even still wanted to be with her, and there’d been no response.

  By that next morning, she had her answer. Ava woke up in a cold bed and a quiet apartment. Connor was gone.

  She slammed the door to her car. Somehow, she’d walked across the entire parking lot and fished out her keys, all without noticing. She really did have a death wish. She turned on the heating, rubbing her hands up against the vents to disperse the chill that didn’t seem to want to leave her alone. She fished around in her tote bag, grabbing a silk scarf when her fingers brushed against it. There. That’d help keep her warm and hide the evidence, from others and herself.

  She was done with this day. Thinking about Connor was going to get her absolutely nowhere. He’d made his decision a long time ago, and so had she. It was done. Wallowing in self-pity wasn’t something she had the luxury of doing anymore. The corner of her lips turned up when she remembered who was waiting for her at home. Ava dropped her bag in the passenger seat, switched into drive, and pulled out of the parking lot, refusing to look back. She couldn’t. Not anymore.

  Twenty minutes later, she pulled into her drive, only to be accosted by a small human. Emily, curls still wet from her bath, flung herself at Ava before she could even climb the front stairs. “Mom!” Her daughter called loudly enough for the entire neighborhood to hear. “There were giraffes, and meerkats!” Her eyes were wide with excitement as she grabbed Ava’s hand and practically dragged her up the walk, chatting happily about all the different animals she’d seen at the zoo.

  Her neighbor, Mrs. Bryan, smiled over Emily’s head, and the little girl continued with the excited chatter, seemingly not caring if Ava was still listening or not. “Emily had a wonderful time. I hope your first day was just as good.”

  Ava forced a smile to her face. “Just perfect,” she replied, then changed the subject quickly. “Thanks so much for taking her out today. It really isn’t necessary.”

  Mrs. Bryan waved away the comment. “We both had a great time. She makes me see it all through young eyes again.” She turned, walking down the steps. “Dinner’s in the oven, dear. I thought you could do with a night off.” She was gone before Ava could break herself out of her stupor enough to reply. Thank God for Mrs. Bryan.

  She moved into the kitchen, pausing only to double-check the deadlock and extra latch on her front door. There was no harm in taking precautions. “Emily. Come and help me set the table.” Ava handed her daughter two plates, along with the silverware, reminding her to be careful. The brand promised to be break-resistant, but who knew with her kid? Emily was a tomboy crossed with a ballerina—she’d be up the tree in seconds like a monkey, but doing it in sequins and sparkles. At least Ava had gotten good at stain removal. Who knew kids could be so damn messy? Her patients had nothing on an impatient three year old.

  Ava grinned, carrying in the lasagna to the table and grabbing a salad she had in the refrigerator. Yep, life was pretty damn good. She smiled
at Emily, sitting in her booster seat, wearing an expression of great concentration, and she twirled a stray piece of stretchy cheese around her fork, refusing to take a bite until it was completely wound up. Her daughter finally shoved the large piece in her mouth, talking around the gooey, cheesy pasta. “Mom, if we find my dad, could he come to the zoo too?”

  Ava’s fork dropped to her plate, the clatter echoing throughout the room.

  6

  Doc

  Doc tossed and turned, not bothering to looking at the clock for the thousandth time. The sliver of moonlight crossing the floor was enough to tell him dawn was still hours off. He’d been trying to sleep for what felt like years, but he was no closer. Scattered thoughts of both past and present flew through his head, merging and twisting together in some kind of macabre dance.

  It had taken all of ten minutes after Levi called for an urgent meeting for a vote for retribution to raised, and another five seconds for the result: unanimous. The Jokers were already trying to take over their territory. No way was anyone going to stand for an attack on their home turf. Merc had wanted to ride out on the spot, take care of the problem before the Jokers had time to regather, but thankfully Levi—and surprisingly, Seth also—had been more restrained.

  The sight of Ava in the hospital waiting room, pinned against the wall with a Joker’s hand around her throat, still chilled Doc hours later. He hadn’t dared bring up in front of everyone the real reason for his delay at the hospital, but he’d summarized the Jokers’ part in it, at least, for the club. He hadn’t been lying—not entirely, anyway. A Joker attacked an innocent doctor at the hospital after she couldn’t save his fellow club mate. He just didn’t reveal that he knew the doctor in a previous life. That was exactly what it felt like—a whole other lifetime.