Chapter 5 #2
“Everly, I can’t. You know all the heat that comes with them nowadays,” he pleads with me.
“I do and I need four of them. Max. I can’t tell you why, but I will never ask you again. And I’m not working with any law enforcement agencies, in case you’re worried about that.”
“Jesus, Everly! I wasn’t until you said that!” he cries out, throwing his hands in the air. “Gimme a minute.”
He storms off to the next room, soon returning with a small container that’s holding the four pills I asked for.
“An older patient of mine had surgery a couple of months ago and they sent the prescription home with her. Her daughter is in recovery, so she didn’t want them lying around and gave them to me to dispose of,” he tells me, looking nervously around.
“Thank you. We’re even.” I say, nearly running for the door before he changes his mind.
“And you owe me one,” he dares to add.
I shoot him a look that relays what I was thinking. Why didn’t you dispose of them?
*
Standing over Jessup, I’m pleased to see that he’s sleeping peacefully and that the fever hasn’t returned. I want to check the burn marks on his feet, but right now rest is more important.
No matter the beating this man endured, he sure as hell wasn’t broken.
Warner and I went out a few times after I moved him here, and like most of the men I had previously dated, I found him lacking.
It’s not that there’s ever been any great trauma that I lived through.
I don’t know, maybe it was growing up without my mom and understanding my father’s sadness, no matter how strong he is for everyone around him.
But that strength of character is always something that’s been high on my list in a partner. I can sense it in Jessup, and it makes me wonder if it’s just me wishing for a chance with him.
“It’s a good thing you’re not a human doctor,” his voice jars me out of my thoughts. “The look on your face right now would terrify most people.”
“Sorry, just lost in thought.”
“You say ‘sorry’ too much. What were you thinking?" he asks, reaching for my hand.
“What would have happened to you if I hadn’t heard about that barn,” I tell him one of the many things that have weighed on me since my impromptu rescue mission.
I open my mouth to say more, but his tummy rumbles, loudly reminding me he hasn’t eaten in—God knows how long. “I got you a breakfast burrito.”
“Hopefully more than one,” he moans, shifting to sit up against the padded back as I turn to reach for the food I left on the counter.
“Easy. Hold this down first, then I’ll let you have something else.”
He groans with his first bite, and I can tell he’s trying to eat slowly.
“My brother,” he says after I’ve started eating my own burrito.
“Hmm?” I make a sound around my food to get him to elaborate.
“My brother and the Kings are coming for me,” he says, not caring that his mouth is half-full. “Of course, now I need to get word to them that I’ve been kidnapped for the second time this week.”
I snort at his comment, then realize he probably has no idea where he is, considering how out of it he was yesterday.
“How far are we from Kent?” he asks me.
“About four hours or so.”
His jaw drops open with that news. I know I told him before, but between his fever and his injuries, I suspect he forgot.
“You weren’t the only one in danger, you know,” I tell him, my nerves ratcheting up a notch.
“I had to find a place to hide you where there’d be no blowback on my dad or his friends.
And I had to drive there without getting pulled over by the crooked sheriff or his crew, so the forty-five-minute drive into Montana was my best bet and at that point I figured I could get you back here and tend to you myself. ”
“You’re right, I was just surprised is all,” he says, reaching out to rub my arm.
I suppose neither the Montana nor Wyoming chapters of the Kings will raise a stink over me not letting them know I was in their backyard.
“I owe you more than I can ever repay. I know that, I just need a minute to catch up.”
“No, you don’t owe me anything. I’m just worried about my dad. He and his friends have been trying to, I don’t even know, build evidence against the crew then figure out who they can trust with it.”
“Tell me about your dad,” he asks, tentatively taking another bite as he watches me like I’m a stick of dynamite. “How’d he become a preacher?”
“He and my mom married young,” I tell him, putting the rest of my burrito back on the counter and getting him another bottle of water.
“And while he was really active in the church, it wasn’t until I was born that he took it a step further.
I don’t remember his mother, but she was still running her feed store and told him to take a break and figure out what his life was going to be like as a widower with an infant. ”
“Your mom died…”
“When I was born,” I say, crossing to where I have a picture of them hanging on the wall.
While I had meant to show him, I just stand there staring at it for the millionth time.
“There was some money that she had inherited from her own parents, and he used that to take classes at a bible college. He raised me on his own, took over the store after his mother passed, and the church when the previous pastor retired.”
“I only met him once, but he seemed very,” he pauses, staring at the last bit of his food like it holds the word he’s looking for. “Grounded. Does that make sense? Calm and genuine.”
“Grounded is the perfect word for him.” I smile at him, surprised at how aptly he described Dad. “He’s always known exactly where he’s belonged.”
“And you?”
“Not so much. I mean, where, not what,” I get slightly flustered trying to answer him. “I’ve always known I wanted to be a vet, or work with animals in some way. But I felt like I was missing out on so much living back home, so I went to school on St. Kitt’s.”
“No kidding? I’ve never been to the Caribbean.”
“It’s beautiful, but I felt more isolated there than I did back home,” I confess something I’ve only told my father. “You live on campus and there are fewer students than there are people in Kent. So, I transferred to North Carolina State in Raleigh after freshman year.”
“And here? I mean no offense, but your name’s not on the name of the business,” he says, nodding in the direction of a certification on the wall.
“I kind of fell into an opportunity where I could lease the business for a couple of years. But that’s a complicated story for another day and we have another issue to deal with.
” Changing the subject saves me from worrying about what I’ll do in three months since I’ve told the owner, I don’t want to buy him out.
“Ah, you mean you’re going to let me call my brother with your ransom demands?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him to take this seriously, but considering the state his body’s in, if he needs to be sarcastic right now, I can keep my freak out to a minimum. That leaves me with nodding my head.
“Here’s the problem with that, and it goes back to what you said earlier,” he says, pulling the blanket tighter around him now that he’s done eating.
“I think you should call your dad and see what he’s heard.
My cell phone’s gone and once we start calling my people, your name is going to be bounced around. ”
“Which would bring them to my dad’s door, especially if they’re already in Kent.” I nod, understanding his point.
Heavily exhaling, trying to dispel the nerves in my stomach, I dig my phone out of my purse and click the top number on my favorites.
It rings all four times before going to voicemail and I hold the phone away from my head, staring at it in shock. Dad has never missed one of my calls.
“What’s wrong?” Jessup asks me.
“He didn’t answer,” I answer, clicking Dad’s name on the screen again, unfortunately with the same result. “He always picks up.”
I frantically hit redial and this time it’s picked up on the third ring. Except I’ve never before heard the voice that answers.
“Who is this?” I demand.
“Thunder. Who are you to Dindak?” replies the man.
“Where is my dad?”
My overwhelming fear stops me from immediately putting together that this man used what sounds like a biker name, but once it clicks, I look over at Jessup who has pulled himself to the edge of the bed.
“Look, he’s fine. He was in a minor accident and knocked his head pretty good, so we’re at the clinic here in town and they’re checking him out.”
“Your name is Thunder?” I ask, and Jessup immediately reaches his hand out for the phone, sucking in his breath when one of his many fractures stops him from stretching his arm out further. “I have someone who wants to talk to you.”
Instead of handing over my phone and getting cut out of the conversation, I hit the speaker button while keeping it out of Jessup’s reach.
“Lincoln,” Jessup says, drawing a string of cuss words from the man on the line. “Yeah, good to hear your voice, too. “Look, before we start, you’re sure Everly’s dad is going to be alright?”
“Yeah, we were heading to meet a contact of his at the church when he hit a patch of ice and skidded off the road and plowed into a tree. I called Bronco to come get us and since Dindak hadn’t come to by the time he arrived, we decided to get him checked out.
He woke up on the way and it’s just a concussion.
They’re working up the paperwork for his release as we speak. ”
His explanation sets off a series of tremors in my body, and I sit down next to Jessup; relieved and grateful that his brother didn’t mess around about getting Dad to the clinic in light of the other situation.
“Thank you,” I whisper, comforted when the man beside me shifts closer to me.
“We were told you’d been taken, but had no idea anyone had found you. Tell me where you are, I’ll come get you.” Thunder quickly changes to the topic he’s interested in.
“I’d like your brother to get another couple of days of rest before he has to be in the truck again,” I answer, worried about Jessup’s concussion and him potentially diving back into the fray. “I can watch over him at my clinic.”
“Who exactly are you?” Thunder’s voice sounds like his road name, making me decide that suits him better than Lincoln.
“She’s a doctor.”
“I’m a vet,” I answer at the same time as my patient.
“Come again?” Thunder’s tone is decidedly softer this time.
“She went to medical school,” Jessup responds, shooting me a side eye like I just betrayed him.
“She went to medical school for animals,” Thunder chokes out before his laughter overtakes him. “Oh, that’s fucking rich.”
“Hey! It’s not like it’s easier, you know?” I try to sound stern, but I can’t help the smile pulling at my lips.
“I’m never going to hear the end of this,” Jessup moans to me as his brother tells someone in the background what’s happened.
“Look, I understand it’s wildly funny,” I interject after another moment of listening to two men I’ve never met mocking Rage, as they call him.
“But your brother was pretty severely beaten and besides a concussion, a few broken ribs, and a fracture along his scapula, there are some pretty bad burns from his calves down.”
This gets the two men to stop laughing.
“What’s a scapula?” The man who joined Thunder asks; his voice is fairly muffled like he doesn’t want us to hear him.
“Shoulder blade,” Jessup and Thunder answer at the same time.
“You didn’t tell me where you are?” Thunder asks again.
“Somewhere in Wyoming,” Jessup replies. “I don’t actually know, but she says it’s about four hours away.”
“How did you get away from these guys? Their leader, from what information we’re getting, is a serious player.”
“Everly rescued me,” Jessup tells his brother. “I’m not really sure how, or why, because I was in a bad way yesterday.”
“Is she hot? She sounds like she is,” Thunder’s next question is less relevant that his previous one and there’s no stopping the gasp that I let out, nor the blush that rides up my cheeks. I turn and raise my eyebrow at Jessup, silently daring him to answer.
“She’s my type, not yours,” he says, leaning forward to rest his forehead against mine.
No one’s ever done that to me before and the connection feels so incredibly intimate. Moreso than any kiss I’ve ever had, and my heart starts beating so loudly that I almost worry Thunder will hear it over the line.
“Everly?” Thunder draws my attention back to the call. “You patch my baby brother up the best you can and let him rest today.”
“That was the plan,” I answer, feeling like I’m wrapped in a cocoon with Jessup; at least until Thunder pierces it with his next words.
“Then get him back here tomorrow, cause he’s going to want to be here for the fight. Love you, kid.”
“See ya soon,” Jessup replies, his breath feathering across my skin.
The click of the line tells me that Thunder hung up, and I didn’t even have a chance to pass on a message for my dad—let alone argue the case for Jessup to sit out the fight.