Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
Tegan
Nothing much happens in the hours following the arrival of Malachi and Doctor Charmden’s friends, Hyram and Thyrie.
The doctor also tells me to call him Vincent.
He talks with Hyram, who he calls Prez, about what information he knows.
I talk with Hyram’s girlfriend—wife?—about what I remember happening.
When Malachi is wheeled back in, groggy and disoriented as the anesthesia wears off, Hyram and Thyrie step in to keep him entertained while subtly pumping him for what he might remember. Vincent clears his throat, and I find he’s watching me instead of the patient.
“You said earlier you might be able to give a description of the men who hurt him?” He nods toward the bed.
“I can do better than that. I can show you this.” The decision to show Vincent, and by extension the rest of them, my drawings feels right. My gut is saying it’s safe to trust Vincent, just as clearly as the same instincts warned against trusting those cops who were here.
“You drew these? Can I show them to Hyram and Thyrie?” His eyes are wide with shock as he flips through the comic-style pages that lay out the scene I witnessed before landing on the portraits of the assailants.
“Fuck. I think I know these guys. At least…this one, maybe?” He flips the spiral cover back gently and turns the drawing to face me. I know I’m the one who drew the face, but the cold, dead stare of the man in the picture has goosebumps prickling over my skin.
“You’re sure this is one of the men?” he asks, his eyebrows nearly disappearing behind the dark, tousled hair that’s lost any attempt at whatever style it might usually hold.
In the short time I’ve watched him, I’ve seen him card his long fingers through the shining curls enough to know it’s a habit he must do when his emotions run hot.
I just nod because obviously, I’m sure. How else would I have known to draw the guy? I already told Vincent I just moved to town and started a new job.
“Hy, come look at this motherfucker. Tell me where you know him from because I’ll risk my medical license if I say his name.” Vincent and Hyram stand shoulder-to-shoulder staring at the image I drew until Thyrie tugs it from Vincent’s hands to get her own peek.
“That bastard. Did you draw him like this because he looked at you this way?” she asks me.
I nod again. While the comic style I used to remembered the scene might include some artistic license to make a point, I drew the portraits like photographs.
They’re realistic enough that just seeing them now gives me anxiety.
“That means he looked at Tegan this way,” she says to the men. Her words are slow and deliberate, as if she’s explaining something to a preschooler.
“Which means he got a good look at her,” Vincent drawls, slowly, as her point dawns on us all.
The three of them turn to stare at me, and I glance down at myself. Through the spatters of Malachi’s blood and who knows what other grossness on me after everything that’s happened, we all take in the art store’s logo over my right breast, and the nametag still pinned over my left.
“Tegan,” Vincent says.
“They know her name and where she works,” Hyram adds.
“And she sprayed this guy with bear repellant—badass move, by the way, new friend. So she’s not safe,” Thyrie finishes.
Fear rushes through me so fast it takes my knees out. Vincent catches me before I hit the floor, cradling me in his arms and moving back to the chair where I’d been sitting earlier. He sits, still holding me, and stares at Hyram.
“Then she’s coming back to the clubhouse with us,” he says firmly.
“Of course,” Hyram agrees. Thyrie nods as if it’s a foregone conclusion.
“Um, guys? She’s right here and probably should have a say in what happens to her,” I say because, afraid or not, I can’t just let these strangers take control of my life.
“You’re the only witness to what those fucks did to our brother. And I can assure you, they won’t forget you saw them, either. You’re not safe. If you have a boyfriend or husband or something, he’s welcome to come to the clubhouse, too. At least, until we can take care of the problem.”
Vincent’s body gets more and more tense with every word Hyram speaks after ‘boyfriend’. I get the sense that if I had one, Vincent would absolutely not welcome him to their clubhouse.
Still, the three of them are strangers. If I go with them to their clubhouse, there’s nothing to say they won’t be as dangerous as the two they claim they’ll protect me from.
It’s not as if I have anyone in town who would look for me if I disappeared.
Obviously, the cops don’t care much about the MC or the people in their orbit.
“I’ll only agree if my dog likes you. He’s the best judge of character I know.
If Fenny doesn’t hate you, then I’ll agree.
But he comes, too.” That’s nonnegotiable.
Fenrir, Fenny, was a gift from my aunt when I graduated from high school four years ago.
Aside from my clothes and my art supplies, he’s pretty much all I brought with me when I moved here.
“You can bring the dog. Let’s go get him and whatever stuff you need for a week or two before Malachi fully wakes up from the anesthesia.
The dog can go with Thyrie and Hyram to the clubhouse while you and I come back here.
If Malachi wakes up again and doesn’t see you, it’ll be bad.
” Vincent shakes his head as he finishes the plan, clearly rueful about the way his brother has latched on to me.
“As long as Fenny’s okay with it, so we’ll see.
” It’s the best I can promise. My giant boy is a Boerboel, an enormous breed my aunt and her husband are obsessed with, and he weighs as much as I do.
If he decides we’re not going with them, it’s not as if we’d be able to crate him and bring him along under protest.
“Guess I better make sure he likes me,” Vincent says with a wink. Thyrie snorts and throws an elbow at her man jokingly.
“A dog in the clubhouse? Does that mean I can have one next?” She bats her eyelashes and makes kissy lips at him. He looks poleaxed, and it’s adorable how obvious his adoration is. I’ve never had a man look at me like that, and my fingers twitch with the urge to draw the two of them.
“I can already tell you’re gonna be a handful. I love it.” Vincent squeezes me affectionately, the move a surprise considering how intimidating he looks, even wearing a fancy doctor’s coat that should make him look boring and staid.
“We’ll see,” I warn again before a jaw-cracking yawn catches me by surprise.
My adrenaline spike is waning, and exhaustion is setting in.
Though I know there’s still a ton of stuff up in the air, I can’t deny I’m less afraid of what will happen since I know Vincent and his club will look out for me.