Four
I t had been a fucking week since I saw her. A week of me trying to figure out how the fuck to cross paths with her, the whole while feeling like if she didn’t even care enough to come and say goodbye that day, maybe I should just cut my losses and move on.
Was I dreaming about her? Of course I fucking was. Was I fucking my fist in the shower every fucking night, picturing her spread out in various positions, taking my dick in all of her holes? Obviously.
There was something about this woman, and I couldn’t get her out of my head. Even finally getting my bike back, and getting out for a ride, hadn’t pushed her out of my thoughts. In fact, the whole time I was out, all I kept wondering was how she’d feel wrapped around me while I rode.
“Hey, you wanna hit the pub?”
I stopped in my tracks as Micro caught up with me.
“What pub?”
He shrugged. “Dunno. Just it’s a bit like a morgue here, man, and I’m bored. This lockdown shit is so boring. I need pussy. You must need pussy. I mean, it’s been like a month for you, right?”
“Lockdown is lockdown, man. I only got to ride because there were a bunch of us going, and we can’t give up the life entirely, but Jesus, some fucker out there wants me dead. I can’t keep pretending like that’s not fucking with my head big time.”
“Hey, why don’t you book an appointment with Lissa? She’s still working on the outside, as long as Ice or one of the others hangs there with her.”
Therapy? He thought I needed therapy? What the actual fuck.
“You think I’m so fucked up that I need a fucking shrink?” Micro burst out laughing, almost tripping over his own feet as he bent nearly in half. I shoved him, and smirked as he fell face first into the clubhouse as the door opened. Reacher stepped back with a curse, narrowly avoiding falling over him, and immediately shot me a glare.
“You’re back five minutes, and all hell breaks loose, Torch.”
“Glad you noticed, Pres. You off out?”
He shook his head, giving Micro a hand as he picked himself up.
“Can I get out before you two carry on roughhousing like kids though?”
We moved, and watched as he headed around to the spray bays to the side of the clubhouse. That was Has-Been and Rocket’s domain normally, but I had no idea if any of them were working right now. Everything was on hold while we waited to figure out who the fuck was after us.
“Oi prick, you coming or what?”
I backed away from the door, my mind racing once more, the brief reprieve our shenanigans created dissipating fast.
“I’m gonna go see if Lissa can fit me in.”
“Don’t let Ice hear you say that, man.”
I rolled my eyes, and headed for the gates, catching up with Nick and Damo, who were the prospects manning them for us. Ironic really, the idea of the gates being there for our protection, but really they were trapping us with the one person who was genuinely out to get us.
“Hey, you going out?” I returned a brief bro hug from Nick, and fist-bumped Damo. I knew they’d have to try and stop me leaving, but I was hoping this one thing would get me out without having to beg the Pres for a fucking pass.
“Thought I’d go see if Lissa’s free.”
They exchanged annoyingly knowing gazes, like somehow it was just a given that I needed fucking therapy right now. Did everyone think I was a fucking pussy since I got stabbed?
“Seriously?”
They both froze at my tone, before Nick held up his hands.
“No offence, man. It’s just the only reason anyone comes and goes right now. Every time someone comes this way, we’re betting on them going there, that’s all.”
“Whatever. Let me out, and keep it shut, yeah?”
Free from the compound, I crossed the road to Lissa’s therapy office, feeling some of the weight drop off my shoulders, just with the freedom of our entrapment with our tormentor. Fuck me, what the hell is wrong with my mind right now? No wonder I’m off to see a fucking shrink.
Cammy welcomed me, and checked the time.
“Lissa is just finishing up with a client, but she’s free after, if it’s her you’re looking for?”
I shrugged, feeling like a prick for even being here right now.
“Dunno. I was bored, or whatever.”
She grinned, pointing to the small kitchen behind her.
“Want a coffee or something? You could pretend that’s why you’re here.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Am I just some fucking joke to everyone these days?”
Her eyes widened, even as I asked myself why the fuck I was mouthing off at my VP’s wife and old lady. What did I think I’d achieve right now, apart from taking my shit out on the wrong damn person?
I sighed, opening my mouth to apologise, but Lissa’s door suddenly opened, and I heard her telling her client that she’d see them tomorrow at the same time. When I lifted my eyes though, I saw the last person I ever thought I’d fucking see again. My doc .
Grace
M y first session with Lissa was actually really worthwhile. She made me feel at ease so quickly that we chatted like old friends, and I got to the root of my issues pretty fast. I was pretty sure I’d just skate around them and never get to it, but she had a way about her that made me talk.
“You said before that you have a man you’re trying to avoid? Is he a threat to you in any way?” She looked worried as she stared over the small table at me.
“Oh god, nothing like that. Well… I mean, maybe a threat to my sanity or god, I don’t know... my bank balance. I should explain what I’m talking about. My last boyfriend, who didn’t seem like the usual bad boy type I go for, ripped me off. Emptied my bank accounts, ran up debt in my name, and left me homeless. I guess I’m trying to learn to avoid men like him.”
My cheeks were scarlet by the time I’d finished speaking, and I had no idea what she might be thinking about me right now. It was pathetic, right? I was an accomplished, well-educated woman, and I couldn’t even keep my money safe, let alone my heart.
“I’m sorry to hear that happened to you. You’re clearly taking the blame for it, but you know it belongs firmly with him, right? He abused your trust, and probably worked really hard to make himself seem worthy of it.” Lissa was sweet, but she wasn’t getting it.
“No, I just make really poor decisions when it comes to men. I get caught up in how hot they are, or how they don’t care about all the socially acceptable stuff, and just live their best lives. I get fooled by all of that rubbish, and it’s too late by the time I realise I should have just stayed away.”
Lissa smiled gently. “We all have types we go for, Grace, and sometimes they’re not always the best people for us. Some women fall into the same trap over and over, say with controlling, manipulative men, and some fight their type, knowing it’s not good for them. It doesn’t mean there isn’t a ‘bad boy’ out there who isn’t good for you.”
I snorted, reaching for my glass of water.
“You’re just saying that because you’re in a relationship with a biker.”
Lissa giggled, waving a hand in the air.
“Honestly, Ice is so not my usual type, but something about him drew me in. Maybe that’s all you need. The right man to catch you by surprise. So tell me about this man you’re trying to avoid. He works at the hospital with you?”
I almost lied and said yes, because the last thing I wanted to admit was that it was a certain biker from the same club as Lissa’s biker man, right? She was so open and sweet though, that I just couldn’t lie.
“No, but he’s someone I crossed paths with because of my job.”
“A patient, then?”
I looked away, suddenly realising how bad that would sound to another medical professional. She’d judge me for wanting someone I was treating, and she absolutely should. It was so wrong of me. It breached so many moral boundaries, and ethical guidelines, didn’t it?
“Let me tell you how I met Ice, and maybe that’ll help you feel you can talk about this. I was the therapist assigned to him for his rehab.” What the… maybe she wouldn’t judge me after all.
“Okay, I didn’t see that coming, but maybe I should have. Bikers are all bad boys, right? Probably all into drinking and drugs and crime.”
Lissa sighed, shaking her head slowly.
“It’s really not like that. Some MCs really are full of criminals, but Phoenix MC is not one of them. Are there bad seeds among the club, most definitely, unfortunately, but does that mean that they’re all bad guys? No way. Reacher and Stitch have been working so hard to clean the club up, after it was exactly the wrong kind of club way back when. I don’t mean to digress, but I’m just saying a generalisation like that is harmful to everything they’re trying to do for their club.”
“I’m sorry, you’re right, that was arrogant of me. I just… I guess I’ve heard bad things in the past, but I shouldn’t have made an assumption like that.”
Lissa lifted a hand, smiling at me at the same time.
“It’s okay, I didn’t mean to get all feisty on you like that. I feel very protective of the club, but we’re here to talk about your situation, and not the club.” If only she knew how wrong she was.
“I think we’re out of time?” I pointed at the clock and Lissa sighed, rolling her eyes.
“Damn, just as we’re getting to the nitty gritty too! You’ll come back, right? You seem lighter just since you started talking to me, and I want to help you build on that feeling, and help you find some peace of mind.”
I nodded as we stood up and headed for the door, with Lissa suggesting the same time tomorrow as she opened the door. As our eyes took in the waiting room, and the one biker waiting with the receptionist, I realised that the universe had a really messed up idea about helping me with my problem. It was Danny North, aka Torch, and he recognised me instantly, of course.