Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
Charm
My least favorite local cops are squared up opposite Tegan in Malachi’s room, and it wasn’t what I expected when I led Hyram and Thyrie down the hallway.
Officers McConnell and Hawley are the worst of the worst. Arrogant and rude.
I’ve always suspected they’re dirty. I know Hyram has the same feelings about the duo, but for now, we have no solid proof.
The fact they always manage to be involved whenever one of our club interacts with law enforcement seems awfully convenient.
It could just be they’ve got hard-ons for Ghost Born or for MCs in general, but it feels personal.
Because of my job, I deal with police as a professional far more frequently than my brothers do, and most of the local cops and I get along fine.
At least, we do when I’m wearing my white coat.
These two, though? It’s always veiled threats and shitty attitudes.
It figures they’re the ones who caught this investigation.
“Officers, I wasn’t aware you two were working this case.” Being mindful of my position as a respectable physician, I temper my dislike of them.
“Charmden. Isn’t it a conflict of interest for you to be the doctor for this guy? Seeing how he’s one of you?” Hawley sneers.
“Not quite how it works, Hawley. And it’s Doctor Charmden.” I can’t resist the small dig.
“Whatever. We’ve got other cases to investigate, so we’ll be on our way. I’ll let you know if we need any further information from you or…” There’s a pause in which I hear his disdain loud and clear. “The victim.”
Both Hawley and McConnell turn to leave, completely ignoring Tegan, the witness, in the process.
Neither bothers to acknowledge Hyram or Thyrie as they blow by the pair on their exit.
They couldn’t be more obvious in their utter disregard for Malachi and what happened to him if they’d actually deigned to use words.
Tegan’s eyes meet mine across the room as I step aside for them to exit, and I can see she’s got questions.
When the room is ours again, I cross to the chair opposite hers, to the other side of where the hospital bed would typically be.
When Malachi’s brought back from surgery, he’ll do his post-op recovery in here.
While Lexan is a large enough town for a trauma center, it’s still a small hospital and spaces frequently multitask.
Besides, as his doctor, I can keep the room for as long as I deem necessary.
“What was that about?” Tegan asks, once the door closes and the clatter of footsteps has gone quiet.
“Those two are the worst of the lot, but law enforcement and motorcycle clubs in general aren’t good matches.” There’s more to it than that, but while she’s smoking hot and I can’t extinguish the spark of chemistry I feel, she doesn’t need to know more.
“That tracks. I take it by they implied you’re a biker like Malachi?” Her voice lifts in question. “And they couldn’t care less about solving what happened to him. Assholes.”
“Exactly. But don’t worry about it. We can keep him safe and sort out what happened.” I don’t explain it’ll all be outside the law because that part’s obvious.
“Good. I want whoever hurt that poor puppy to pay. In pain.” Malice drips from every word and I find myself looking more closely at the curvy bombshell. She’s unexpected, in so many ways.
“Poor puppy?” I parrot. The idea of someone who doesn’t know my close friend being able to see him as anything other than a hulking threat stands out more than even her bloodthirstiness.
“Oh come on, anyone can see your…buddy?…is an overgrown golden retriever in a Doberman body.” She rolls her eyes, and I can’t look away from the way her thick eyelashes frame them.
Dark brown and expressive as fuck, they’re the sort of eyes poets talk about when they reference eyes being windows to within.
Hers definitely are, and I’m falling before I have the chance to register it.
“Most people don’t see that when they look at him. How do you know Malachi again?” From what they both said earlier, they were strangers before this, but he was so taken by her, I have to be sure.
I love Malachi like a brother and have spent the better part of a decade keeping him alive and helping him heal, but he developed some personality hiccups as a result of the traumatic brain injuries he suffered during his time in the military.
One of them being a tendency to hyper fixate on people or things that fascinate him.
Like a child with a new obsession, Malachi could have spotted her and built an entire imaginary world where they’re besties. Or more.
So while part of me angles to find out as much as possible about this woman, another part of me assesses whether there will be a problem. Because if Malachi is hyper fixating on her, he’ll have to quit. Immediately. Because I’m pretty positive obsessing over Tegan Farris is my new thing.
“Like I’ve already said, we don’t know each other.
I just moved to to town. I was leaving work, and when the elevator doors in the parking garage opened, there they were.
And it’s not my fault if people can’t see past your buddy’s looks to see the puppy he actually is.
Now, if you don’t mind answering a couple questions for me, I’d like a turn,” she says primly.
She looks from me to Hyram before finally meeting Thyrie’s stare.
Something unspoken passes between the two of them—some female bonding moment maybe.
Who knows? Hyram, demonstrating a level of perception I’m unaccustomed to seeing from him, wraps his arm around his ole lady’s waist and tugs her back toward the door they just came through.
“We should hit the cafeteria. Get some food and coffee while they’re piecing him back together, yeah? How long you think, Vin?” Hyram asks.
“Probably another hour, maybe a little more. From the reports I’ve looked at, the break is clean, though it’s compound and came through the skin.
” Translating medical jargon into regular person words is a skill I’ve honed over the years, and it’s really handy at times like this.
The others don’t need to know all the precise minutiae, but I know as our prez, Hyram needs the general overview, privacy laws be damned.
“Okay. You’re off duty now, right, Vincent? Can you and the girl stay here? We’ll bring back food and coffee for everyone.” Hyram doesn’t bother looking at Tegan, expecting me to to hear the directive in his question. And to obey it.
“The girl has a name. And you can ask her yourself.” Thyrie elbows Hyram in the ribs, none too gently. His ears go pink, but I know better than to let my amusement show. Tegan, however, has no such limitation, and she giggles at the byplay between my prez and his woman.
It’s a good thing she doesn’t look offended, or worse, scared of my club brother. If I have my way, she’ll be spending a lot of time around him in the future.