Chapter 3
Lyle
Upstairs in the clubhouse, we have rooms, so there’s always a place to stay for anyone that needs it. They’re simple—a bed and chair and a chest of drawers—but it’s a safe place for Valentine to rest and recover while I figure out who the fuck she is.
Setting her gently on the chair, I pull up a stool to look at her raw feet. Skin hangs off the underside, and fresh blood seeps through the peeling skin. She must have walked a long way to get them in such bad condition, and she must have a will of steel to keep walking. The pain must be awful.
“How long were you walking.”
Valentine’s brows knit together in a look that I already know means she’s thinking hard.
“I’m not sure. It was dark when I started, just before sunrise.”
It’s almost sunset now. She’s been walking all day in the heat and with bare feet. Anger surges through me. How was this woman left to wander the highway alone like this?
She’s dehydrated and her feet are raw, and there’s a purple bruise on her temple. Her body will need time to heal before we can figure out what’s going on with her mind.
Gina arrives with a tray full of supplies. I already gave Valentine a few sips of water before she climbed on my bike. I saw dehydration in Afghanistan when I was deployed. There’s no doubt that she’s suffering from mild symptoms.
I take a bottle of water from the tray and press it to her lips.
“We need to go slow. Just take a few sips.”
I hold the back of her head as Valentine presses her lips to the bottle. Her tongue darts out to lick her puckered lips. Even cracked and covered in road dust I can tell they’re full. Ripe and kissable.
My dick twitches in my pants, and I silently curse myself for thinking of kissing and more when the poor woman is in such a bad state.
Focus, Lyle, I silently tell myself.
“I’m going to get you in the shower now, wash off this road dust, then we’ll get you something to eat.”
Valentine nods weakly. She’s so exhausted that she’s almost asleep. It’s tempting to let her drift off now, but I know it’ll be better if we can tend to her needs first.
“Come on, darling.”
I slide my arms around her and lift her off the chair. I carry her into the bathroom, and Gina follows swiftly behind.
“I don’t think so, Lyle.”
Gina has her hands firmly on her hips, one eyebrow arching into her forehead.
“I’ll help her shower.”
She says it firmly, and even though I want to help Valentine all by myself, I know she’s right. Valentine’s barely conscious. It wouldn’t be right for a grisly old man like me to shower her when Gina can do it.
“Go get a chair, then, because she can’t stand.”
Gina grabs one of the plastic chairs from downstairs and comes back with Lily in tow. Lily is the daughter of our president Bruno and will do anything to help the club.
“No peeking, Lyle,” she admonishes me as she firmly shuts the door.
While the women help Valentine shower, I give Bronn a call. I work part time for Sunset Security and he’s my boss. The firm is all ex-military men taking private security jobs.
When I explain the situation about Valentine Bronn’s understanding.
“Sorry to let you down.” I say. “Can you find someone to cover the job next week?”
He had me down for a private job for some oil guy that’s getting death threats and wants his wife watched over while he’s away.
“I’ll do it myself.” Bronn says. “Take the time off and look after the woman. Sounds like she needs you.”
With the call out of the way I head to the kitchen to look for something to feed Valentine.
The cupboards are full of rice and pasta and a bunch of stuff that I don’t know how to make. I was in the Army for twenty years. I never learned how to cook.
At the back of the cupboard are some noodle packets, and I grab those. With boiling water and chicken strips added, I feel pretty pleased with myself.
But before I take the meal upstairs, I have to find Bruno.
The main clubhouse is full of people milling about for the Valentine’s Day party. Some have partnered off, but I see Gage and Jesse in the corner playing cards. Two women lean on the bar in short dresses, looking in their direction, but the men are oblivious.
“You’ll never find a Valentine playing cards in the corner.”
I shake my head at the guys. They’re the two serious members of the club, and my comment barely gets a smile.
“You seen Bruno?”
“He’s out front with Scarlett,” Gage grunts, barely looking up from his hand.
Ever since our boss hooked up with his young fiancée, he spends every spare moment with her. That’s why it doesn’t surprise me when I find them in a shadowy corner out front canoodling, their drinks abandoned on the table.
I cough loudly, and Bruno gives me an annoyed look as he pulls his lips away from his young fiancée.
“You got a minute, Pres?”
“I’ll go check on the girls,” Scarlett says, giving us some space. Bruno watches her cross the parking lot into the clubhouse, his eyes scanning the other men at the club, ready to kill anyone who so much as looks at his woman.
It’s been fascinating to watch, our President brought to his knees by a woman. But now I understand. The fire I have inside of me burning for Valentine, the protectiveness I feel over her—it’s so strong I feel sick.
“Is it about the girl?” Bruno asks.
“Valentine.”
He looks surprised. “I thought she couldn’t remember her name.”
“She can’t. That’s what I’ve named her.”
I explain the situation as far as I know it. Her bloody feet, her memory loss, the bruising on her temple, and the unsettling feeling that she’s running from something.
Bruno listens intently, waiting until I’m finished.
“You want our protection for her?”
“I do.”
He nods. “You got it, brother. Anything she needs.”
“She needs to stay here to recover. It might take a few weeks.”
“She can stay as long as it takes. She need a job? We’ve got an opening at the club.”
He indicates the building next door. The strip club.
“No.” It comes out through gritted teeth as jealousy jars my heart. There’s no way Valentine is working as a stripper. “She doesn’t need a job.”
Bruno holds his hands up.
“Alright, brother. Just a suggestion if she needs the work.”
His lips pull up in a smile, and his eyes have a knowing twinkle.
“What?” I ask.
“You got it bad, brother.”
I stand up, not wanting to admit what he’s saying. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You will.”
He chuckles as I walk away. I know he’s right. I’ve got it bad for Valentine, a woman who I don’t know anything about, who could be married already for all I know. But my heart doesn’t care. The heart wants what the heart wants.