Keeping What's His(14)

“Six.”

“The fucker couldn’t be inconspicuous if he tried.”

Sutton jumped when she heard a knock on the door.

“Let them in.”

“Hell no. You’re safer in jail.”

From the look of the men she had seen getting off those motorcycles, help wasn’t what they were going to be giving Tate. They were more likely to finish the job of his unknown assailant.

“Let them inside. They’ll know how to stop the bleeding.”

Sutton reluctantly went to the door. Her hand trembling, she opened the door slowly so the group of men could file inside. She stood by the door, trying to decide if she should make a run for it while she had the opportunity. Or so she thought until she noticed one of the bikers standing outside the door with his arms crossed against his chest. He was wearing sunglasses and covered in tattoos.

Sutton slammed the door in his face, deciding she was safer inside.

Cash stood behind the couch, staring down at Tate while one of his friends went around the couch to squat down next to him, checking on his wound.

“What in the fuck happened?”

“Someone knocked me out, and then the bastard stabbed me while I was out and planted the gun on me that killed Lyle,” Tate answered Cash’s question, his voice filled with pain.

“You sure you didn’t do it?”

“I believe I would know if I blew someone’s brains out.” Tate tried to shift away from the man who had picked up the disinfectant and gauze to clean his wound. “Dammit, Train, do you have to be so rough?”

“You want me to stop the bleeding?” the man answered without remorse, continuing to work on him.

Tate’s mouth snapped closed.

Sutton went into the kitchen, turning off the boiling water. Using a hot pad, she carried the water into the living room, setting it on the coffee table so the biker named Train could reach it.

When he shrugged off a small backpack, pulling out several items, she moved back, watching as he cleaned Tate then methodically sutured the wound. The other bikers stood silently as Tate cussed.

“Rachel could have fixed me up without making me wish I had bled to death.”

Cash’s mouth tightened. “Maybe so, but I’m not putting my child at risk because you’re a pussy.”

“Rachel’s pregnant?”

Cash nodded.

“She didn’t tell me.”

Sutton squashed the sympathy that his words stirred.

“She was going to tell you this weekend when we came over to dinner after Holly and Logan came home. She wanted to tell you all together.”

“Oh, I’m glad you didn’t tell her, then.”

“I told her. I don’t keep any secrets from my wife. She understood why I didn’t want her to come. She wouldn’t have been able to stop herself from helping you.”

Train stood up, reaching into his backpack and pulling out three bottles of pills. “One is for pain, one for infection, and the last one is an iron pill. All three of them are marked.”

Sutton took them from him.

“Give me one of those pain pills and some whiskey if you have it.”

“I don’t, but I have some beer.”

“That’ll have to do.”

Sutton went to get his beer, offering it to him after Cash helped lift him so he could swallow the pills then laid him back down. Tate’s eyes closed before his head was back on the pillow.

“What am I supposed to do?” Sutton asked Cash when the group of men went to the door.

“Keep his wound clean and dry for a few days. It shouldn’t take that asshole more than a couple of days before he’s back on his feet.”

“I can’t take care of him for that long. The police are looking for him, and I’m not going to jail for being an accessory.”

Cash’s lips twitched. “I’ll keep Knox off your property until Tate’s up and around and can figure out who attacked him. I’ll go by and let Greer know he’s okay. Maybe, between him and Dustin, they can figure out who wanted to pin Lyle’s murder on him.”

“You don’t think he did it, either?”

“Fuck no. If Tate killed Lyle, he would be bragging about it, not hiding out. Keep inside the house and don’t let anyone in but me and Knox.”

“Why would the sheriff help?” Sutton asked, confused.

“Because he’s a friend of mine. He’ll give Tate a few days’ head start to clear his name. After that”—Cash shrugged—“he’ll have to find some other place to hide out. As long as it’s not my house, I really don’t give a fuck. If he hadn’t pissed off most of the town, people would be more likely to believe in his innocence.”

Sutton silently agreed. Tate and his brothers would never win a popularity contest. Most of the townspeople would probably cheer if he was locked up.

Sutton stood in the doorway, watching the men ride away with mixed feelings. The bikers were intimidating on and off their bikes.

She checked on Tate, seeing he was asleep. His cheeks were flushed and his hair damp. Sutton’s hand went to his forehead, checking for a temperature. He was warm but not hot. She hoped the antibiotic she had given him would prevent him from getting an infection.

Using the hot water, she washed his hands and chest, wiping the dried blood away. Tate didn’t wake. When she finished, she pulled the blanket she kept at the foot of the couch over him then carried the dirty water to the bathroom to dump it down the drain.

Going back to the living room, she straightened up the mess, feeling her own eyes droop with fatigue. She hadn’t slept last night, and it was catching up with her.

She sat down at the end of the couch, placing his feet on her lap. If he moved, she would feel it and wake up. Letting her head fall to the back of the couch, she stopped fighting to stay awake, dozing off while wondering if she had lost her mind again by trying to help a man who wouldn’t appreciate it, much less thank her for risking her own freedom.

Sleepily, she opened her eyes to check on him. “You haven’t changed. You never could stay out of trouble.”





Chapter 10



Tate woke, wondering why in the fuck he was so sore. Opening his eyes in the dark room, he stared around, disoriented. Thinking he had drunk too much the night before, it was only when his gaze fell on Sutton that his memory returned.

Wincing, he tried to maneuver his body to take the pressure off his sore ribs. His hand rubbed the spot where he was sure someone had kicked him after knocking him out.

“Can I get you something?” Sutton’s husky voice drew his attention back to her.

His feet were laid casually across her lap, and her drowsy gaze hardened his dick despite his body being unable to do a damn thing about it.

“Water and another pain pill,” his voice croaked out the request.

Sutton raised her arm to look at her wrist watch. “It’s almost time for it, anyway.”

She scooted out from under his feet, stiffly rising to go the kitchen. It was only a moment before she was back, holding out the pain pill and a bottle of water.

Tate took the pill, chasing it down with the water thirstily.

“I’ll heat you up some soup. If you don’t eat something, the medication will make you sick.” She didn’t wait to hear if he wanted it or not, going back to the kitchen.

Tate tiredly rested his head back on the pillow, listening to her movements in the kitchen. When he smelled the soup, his stomach growled.

“What time is it?”

“Three in the morning,” Sutton said, coming back, carrying the cup of soup and setting it on the end table. Then she helped him to rise to a sitting position, and he thought he might pass out.

“The blood you lost will make you dizzy for a while. The knock on your head will make it worse.” She sat down next to him, handing him the soup.

His hand shook when he took it from her.

“Careful. It’s hot,” she warned.

Tate took a small sip, feeling as if he would hurl it up immediately. Sutton’s hand under the cup encouraged him to take another drink.

“The more you drink, the less you’ll feel sick.”

“Why in the fuck do you care?” Tate regretted the harsh words as soon as they left his mouth. His throbbing dick was aggravating the hell out of him. How could he still be attracted to the cheating liar?

“I don’t.” Her hand dropped to her lap.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “You’re being nice by letting me stay here, and I was being an ass.”

Sutton gave him a cold smile. “It comes naturally to you and your brothers. That’s why you’re holed up here.”

“We’re not ass-kissers; that’s for sure.”

“You’re in your thirties now, Tate. Don’t you think it’s time you grew up?”

His mouth twisted. “That’s twice this week I’ve been told that.”

Her head tilted to the side. “Who else said that to you?”

“Your father.”

Her expression became even more remote. “Then that’s the first thing we’ve agreed on in years.”

“Really? According to him, you haven’t talked to him in years. He said to tell you to call your mother, she’s not doing well.”

Sutton stood up, going to the window to look out, remaining silent.

“Must have been a pretty bad argument to cause a rift between you and your parents. From what I remember, you three were pretty tight.”