Chapter Three
Denver Chapter Clubhouse
Reaper
I’m out of smokes—a situation that always pisses me off—so I head out of the tall, heavy gates and onto the street. It’s dusk and the sky is streaked with lilac and pink clouds coming from the direction of the Rockies.
My side hurts like a bitch and I’m glad I don’t have plans for the next day. I’m gonna sleep in and then watch reruns of The Sopranos. My guilty pleasure.
I buy three packs of Marlboros and shove them into the pockets of my cut, grab some gum for good measure, and a pack of Tylenol to take the edge off the bite.
As I round the corner to the clubhouse I spot someone lurking in the shadows. Instinctively I touch the gun that sits in my waistband. Its presence is reassuring. Whoever it is would be wise to piss off. I’m in no mood for another altercation, and I definitely won’t come off worse this time.
With a grunt I march forward, ready to let someone have the full of force of my temper. Who the fuck do they think they are hanging around the Sons of Sin?
But as I approach, surprise catches a beat in my heart.
It’s her.
The doctor from last night.
Scarlet Mesa.
She sees me and for a moment opens her mouth as if to speak but then closes it again.
I don’t blame her. I look like a man ready to bite someone’s head off.
People generally cross the road to avoid me.
Yet she’s sought me out. It’s no secret where our clubhouse is, most locals would know it, but she’s obviously asked the question. And got the right answer.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I step up close to her, real close. Using my height to intimidate her.
She backs against a wall, eyes wide, palms flat on the brickwork.
“I’m guessing it’s not to check my wound, Doc.” I huff but I can’t deny I’m glad to see her face again.
“Well, I ... no, but how are you? Any bleeding? Any fever?”
The shake in her voice does strange things to my testosterone. It yanks at my protective gene, but I shut it down instantly. She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t be anywhere near me and my club. It’s too dangerous for a fragile female like her.
“I’m breathing, that’s the main thing.” I look into her eyes again, the lilac of the sky is reflected in them and her pupils are wide. “I repeat, why are you here?”
“I’m worried about someone.”
“I told you I’m fine.”
“Not you ... a woman. She came into the ER today, drugged up to the eyeballs.”
“This is Denver, what do you expect, honey?”
She frowns and folds her arms. Puffs up her chest in a tiny gesture of defiance. “I know what to expect. In the dead of night I see the absolute dregs of society, or did you forget that?” Her attention rakes over my face, takes in the spiderweb tat on my neck, and then the badges on my cut.
I laugh, a gruff sound. There’s an attitude in this one, that’s for sure. She’s as good as just told me I’m the dregs of society. Maybe she has a point. I’m a killer and a thief, and that’s pretty scummy by anyone’s definition.
“What’s this woman got to do with me?” I ask with a sneer.
“She’s in danger.”
“She someone’s old lady?” That could change things.
“What’s that?” She frowns.
I place my hands on the wall beside her head, hemming her in. She smells of petals and sunshine and some sweet perfume that fills my nostrils and replaces the constant aroma of oil and tobacco. It’s not unpleasant, her scent.
“An old lady,” I say. “Is she married to a club brother?”
“No, she’s just a kid from Columbia. No wedding ring.”
I frown. “Go on.”
“She’s been used, as a drug mule.”
Now my interest is awoken. I tip my head and study her. “And why do you think I want to know this information?”
“I know trouble when I see it, and last night I patched up trouble and kept my mouth shut. Figured you owe me one.”
I nod slowly. She has a point. She also has the silkiest hair I’ve ever seen. In this light it is the color of wildfire and frames her pretty face, contrasting against her delicate white skin.
“So, say I owe you one. Then what?”
“She’s in danger, one of the bags of cocaine burst inside her, and now the mafia, or cartel, or goddamn Sopranos, I don’t know, are going to be after her because the authorities know she exists and that’s dangerous for them.”
I smirk. “Sopranos aren’t real, honey.”
Her frown is deep. “She’s a loose end, she says they are coming for her.”
“Who is coming for her? Maybe she did this to herself. Shoved the coke where the sun don’t shine to get rich quick.”
“No, poor soul can’t be more than seventeen, and she’s got this ugly tattoo on her right shoulder. A first I thought it was a dog or a wolf but it’s a hyena.”
“A what?” My belly clenches and my mouth dries.
“A hyena, you know, ugly face, snarly mouth, hackles.” She narrows her eyes at me.
“Yeah, I know what a hyena is.”
“And she said she didn’t want the tattoo, it was forced upon her.”
“So, they’d know she was theirs if she ever wound up dead,” I say. “An ownership stamp.”
“Ownership? Owned by who?”
“The Hyenas.” I step away and run my hand through my hair. Squeeze my eyes shut. So, they were doing exactly what we’d suspected and now one of the mules had turned up on death’s door. “Fuck.”
“Who are the Hyenas?” she asks.
“A nasty bunch of bastards by anyone’s standards, and if they stood before me now, I’d take out every last one of them. Happily.”
“Oh, not your friends then.”
“Hell, no.”
I stare at her. She stares at me. Her lips are shiny, as though she’s just licked them and the shadows mean I can’t see her freckles anymore.
“You shouldn’t have come here.” I step closer again, until our bodies actually touch and she’s against the wall.
She hitches in a breath, her breasts grazing my chest through our clothing. My cock responds. Down, boy.
“What are you doing?” she asks breathily.
“You shouldn’t have come here. You’re stirring up a hornet’s nest.” And that nest was stinging me. My stiffening cock was becoming decidedly painful in my leathers.
What is going on with me?
“I didn’t know what else to do,” she says, “I told the ward to call security if she has any visitors.”
I laugh, not a pleasant sound. “You think hospital security guards will be able to stop the Hyenas? Not a fucking chance, those poor guys will be pushing daisies within the week. You should all be scared, fucking terrified, you most of all for digging around.”
She stares me dead in the eye. “I’m not afraid of monsters. I’ve dealt with my fair share of them.”
The determination coming from her hits me in the solar plexus. She should be afraid. Afraid of me and the Hyenas, but she’s got guts. She’s not intimidated. And fuck, that is sexy.
“Help her.” Her jaw tightens. “You just admitted you owe me a favor, and I’m passing that favor on to her.”
“Interesting logic.”
“Makes sense to me.” Her eyes flash. “Are you going to or not? I have a place to be.”
“Where?”
“Home to bed. I’ve been on a twelve-hour shift.”
“Bed.” The right side of my mouth curls into a half smile. Fuck, right now I’d like to be putting her to bed. Naked. Wet. Gasping my name as I sink deep.
Jesus, my cock is at full hardness now and taking charge of my brain.
I curl my hand into the nape of her neck and draw her face to mine. “I’ll help her,” I whisper gruffly onto her lips, “on one condition.”
She sets her hands on my cut, the ends of her fingers curling against the leather. A pulse in her neck throbs onto my palm. “What condition?”
“You kiss me.”
“I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Reaper, as in Grim.” I smash my lips onto hers and groan when the sugary taste of strawberry gloss hits my tongue.
She whimpers but doesn’t resist.
I take that as a good sign and tip my head to deepen the connection. My tongue finds hers and she presses up against me.
We are nothing to each other but suddenly everything to each other. I groan and grind my cock onto her body. What I wouldn’t give to fuck her now, turn her around, strip off those scrubs and sink deep. I’d show her the best time she’s ever had. Ruin her for all other men.
“What are you doing?” She pulls back and shoves me.
I let her have her way and release her.
“Making a deal,” I say and shove my hand into my leathers, adjust my cock.
“You’re very presumptuous.” She wags her finger at me.
The cute gesture makes me laugh. I’m a big menacing guy, yet she dares to do that? She’s really something else.
Her frown deepens. “She’s called Consuela and is on surgical ward three. So, if you can help her, watch over her, get her somewhere safe, do it.” She straightens her t-shirt. “Before it’s too late.”
Her nipples are hard and poking at her top. Good to know. She liked the kiss as much as I did.
“How long does she need to be in the hospital?” I ask and lick my lips, catching the last of her flavor.
“She’ll need medical care for the next couple of days.” She pauses. “Are you going to help her?”
“Dunno.” I shrug.
Her lips tighten and she steps away from the wall and out of my reach. “If you don’t, now that you know about her, that young girl’s blood will be on your hands if these Hyena dudes get to her. Think about that, Reaper. Blood on your hands.”
“You think I don’t already have blood on my hands?”
She turns and stalks away, ass wriggling and hair flowing down her back.
I should spank her for that particular sass and the way she said my name with such sexy attitude.
However, I can’t deny she has a point, and I have an idea forming. But before I do anything else, I need to run this information by Jock. It’s gonna mean bringing an outsider in, a woman, and he doesn’t like that, none of us do.
****
Denver University Hospital
Scarlet
The ER has been extra busy all night. A music festival brought in a stream of minor injuries and drunks. But now, at 5:00 AM, I finally get the chance to eat a sandwich and gulp down a coffee.
I check my phone for messages. There’s nothing. Which isn’t unusual. Since I left, I’ve only given my number out to a few colleagues. Keeping to myself suits me. For now, at least.
Todd is dozing on a chair. He’s pulled a double due to staff sickness and is pale with blue-tinged circles under his eyes. For his sake, I hope the quiet spell continues until 7:00 when he can go home and get some proper sleep.
I slip out of the staff room being careful not to let the door bang, and then check on a patient who is receiving clot-busting drugs for a deep vein thrombosis.
Next, I look in on a child with pneumonia who is waiting for transfer to Pediatrics, and then a woman with a gash on her forehead.
Lynette is suturing her with a look of extreme concentration on her face.
“All good?” I ask.
“Yes, long may it last.” She doesn’t glance at me.
I breathe a sigh of relief and head toward a stack of paperwork waiting on the desk.
But as I pass the store cupboard, the door opens.
A huge figure looms over me and then I’m snatched, violently, harshly, into the darkness.
A hand slaps over my mouth and the intense body heat of a huge man slams onto mine.
Terror grips me. I wriggle and try to scream, aim for his kneecap. Son of a bitch.
“Stop it. Fuck. It’s me.”
His deep familiar voice has me freezing and my heart stuttering. I stare into his face.
Reaper.
My eyes widen and I tug at his hand on my mouth.
“You gonna keep quiet?” he asks.
I nod and tug it harder. He moves it.
“It’s literally against the law to say the Q word in the ER,” I snap.
“What?” He frowns.
“Quiet. You say quiet and then all hell breaks loose.” I push him but he doesn’t move. “What the heck do you think you’re doing here?”
“I’m all hell breaking loose, honey.” He nods at the door. “We got to go.”
“What? Where?”
“You asked me to help the girl.”
“Consuela, yes.”
“We’re helping. Right now, my club brothers have her in a cage in the lot.”
“A cage?” I’m horrified.
“A car, chill, woman.” He opens the door and looks out. “Come on.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“You said she needed medical attention for a few more days. You volunteered yourself.”
“But I’m on shift.”
“Don’t look like you’re needed. Now, are you coming willingly or do I have to throw you over my shoulder and kidnap you?” He wraps his big hand around my upper arm.
“Where, though? Go where?”
“We have a safe house out of the city. The Hyenas won’t find her there. Then when she’s stronger, we can get her home or wherever she wants to go.”
“Fuck.” I rub my temple. There is no way I can just leave the ER. I am one of only three doctors on shift. If there is a major incident it would be carnage.
“If you didn’t want to get involved you shouldn’t have brought us this problem.” A tendon flexes in his cheek.
“I didn’t know...”
“You should have. Now come on. Because believe me, I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you kicking and screaming if necessary.”
“No. No, that won’t be necessary. But let me get my purse.”
“Fair enough.” He keeps his hand tight around my upper arm and we step out of the cupboard.
“That way.” I nod at the staff room.
“No fucking funny business.”
He looks so out of place in the clinical setting, all towering muscle and worn leather. And his brooding dark looks would scare any child and most adults if they passed him on a gurney or in a wheelchair. Likely they’d think they were having some kind of drugged-up, hellish nightmare.
I slip into the staff room, grab my purse, and switch my white coat for a denim jacket and then tiptoe back past Todd who is still sleeping with his mouth open.
What the hell am I doing?
Reaper grunts when I return and then heads in the direction of a fire escape. The door is open, which is unusual, and we slip out into the dawn light.
Before me are four Harleys with long chrome handles and flames painted onto the exhausts. Three riders sit astride them, helmets on, cuts all matching. Big menacing shadows waiting to roar to life.
“Where is she?” I ask.
“There.” He nods at a black four-by-four with dark windows.
“Can I see her?”
“We haven’t got time for that. But she’s okay, trust me.”
Reaper guides me to a Harley that has an additional image of a spider on the exhaust. He hands me a black helmet. “Put this on.”
I do as he asks and then watch as he does the same and climbs onto his bike.
“Get on,” he grunts.
Quickly I hop on behind him.
“Hold on here.” He grabs my right arm and tugs it around his waist.
The crinkle of the leather under my arm and the heat of his back on my chest gives me an unexpected thrill, and I lock my fingers together at his abdomen.
And then, with a lion’s roar, the bikes rev to life and we follow the four-by-four out of the hospital loading bay.
I tell myself I’m not going willingly. That I’ve been kidnapped. That I’m going to help Consuela and not because the throb of the machine between my legs is the most excitement I’ve had in a while, and the badass biker I’m clinging to isn’t every sort of trouble I shouldn’t want but do.