“Twenty-four hours and you’re already causing problems.” I stroll into Reese’s room. He’s in the exact same position I left him. Miserable. Speaking of untamed animals, my brother is the leader of the pack.
“She told you it was my fault, didn’t she?” He’s instantly defensive.
“No, she told me Dr. Lipschitz was being a douche and you intervened.” I fudge the truth.
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“Because you’re a shady, cynical bastard who doesn’t trust a soul. Even his own brother.”
“You know that’s not true,” Reese gripes.
“Okay, yeah. I embellished the last part. You trust me with your life.”
And all your dirty secrets.
“So are you here to scold me or what?”
“Scold you? No. You’re beyond discipline.”
“You would know, sir,” he digs, like the insolent teenager he is.
I ignore his comment and continue. “I’m here to implore you to be nice to the staff. They’re here to help you. Not hurt you.”
Reese shifts uncomfortably. “I hate being here.”
“I know, but you have nothing to worry about.”
“I always have something to worry about.” He eyes me guardedly.
“Not now. You know I would never let anything jeopardize your career.”
“I’ve learned fate is out of both of our hands.”
“I’m a doctor. I know how to play God. Just trust me, okay? Get well, and then you can get out.”
Reese nods reluctantly.
“I’m working on getting you moved out of here. You’ll stay with me. I’ll hire a home nurse, and you can recuperate in private. That’s really what I came to tell you.”
“How soon can that happen?” Reese actually gets excited.
“I’m working on it. A few days max.”
“That sounds like an eternity.” His excitement instantaneously deflates.
“A few days? I don’t know how you’re ever going to survive,” I heckle him. “And to be forced to spend time with your estranged twin brother. The travesty.” I stab myself in the chest.
“Shut the fuck up. You know I never have an issue seeing you.”
“When you need something,” I toss in.
“Aw, fuck off. And that’s not entirely true.”
“Isn’t it? I haven’t seen you in months.”
“That’s because I’ve been working. You know, racing all over the world,” he states the obvious.
“Excuses, excuses.”
“I’m still trying to figure out why you moved back to this hellhole in the first place.”
I shrug. “It’s home.”
“It’s the middle of fucking nowhere.”
“Maybe I like nowhere.”
“Easier to conceal all your kinky kinks,” he baits.
“Shut up,” I snap a little too defensively.
Reese makes a gun with his hand and fires. “Bull’s-eye.”
I groan. “That has nothing to do with shit, and if you don’t zip it, I’m going to put you in a -medically-induced coma.”
“Wonder what that hot nurse would think of your kinks.”
“Reese. Last warning. And leave Kayla out of it.”
“Or does she already know? Did you hit that already?” He raises his eyebrows lewdly. “Dominate the shit out of her, did you?”
“Forget the coma. I’m just going to smother you with a pillow.”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, bro. Nothin’ better than a woman on her knees.”
“Look,” I nip the conversation in the bud, “just behave. Okay?”
“Is that what you tell Nurse Kincade, Master?”
Ugh.
So I like a little kink. So what? And I like to be dominant. So what?
I’ve never had any complaints. I wouldn’t exactly call myself a Dom. Just a man who knows what he likes. Which is making beautiful women come on my command. I usually don’t mind bantering with Reese about my sexual proclivities, but as soon as he brought Kayla into it, I needed to shut the conversation down. One whiff that I’m into her and I’ll never hear the end of it, especially since I’ve yet to seal the deal.
Yet being the operative word.
I circle my fingertip mindlessly around the rim of my coffee cup, unable to get my mind off Dev. I keep deliberating as to whether to give him an honest-to-God chance. Part of me wants to. A very strong part of me. But the rest of me knows it would be a huge mistake. Just let me count the ways: we work together, we work together, we work together, and oh, he’s a biker. And what’s my one cardinal rule? No bikers. Yet, here I am, seriously considering going out with the hot piece of man I dream about religiously.
“You look very lost in thought.” My aunt slips into the booth seat across from me. We meet for breakfast at Lou’s Diner whenever our schedules allow. It’s close to both the hospital and the precinct and has the best greasy home fries in the county.
“I am very lost in thought.” I drop my chin into my hand.
“Uh-oh. Who is he?” The waitress, Hettie, pours my aunt a cup of coffee without her even having to ask. “Morning, Detective,” she adds cheerfully.
“Morning.” Sam flashes a smile at the middle-aged woman but keeps her main focus on me. She’s dressed in her usual uniform—- a black pantsuit, with her dark-brown hair pulled back in a low, tight bun.
“Am I that translucent?”
My aunt shrugs one shoulder. “I’m a cop. I read people. I’m also your surrogate mother, so yes, you’re as clear as a piece of glass.”
“Damn.”
“So what’s the issue?” She pours some cream into her coffee and stirs.
“We work together.”
She stops mid-stir. Not a good sign. “I would advise not to do it.”
“Because he’s a manwhore?” There’s no point in beating around the bush; she knows exactly whom I’m talking about. He was practically humping me in front of her the other night.
“There’s that, yes.” She purses her lips. “But, honey, I think you should steer clear of all the bikers in this town. Even if they are a doctor.”
That response sounds more like the detective talking than my aunt.
“Why are you suddenly changing your tune?” I probe. “You were telling me to offer myself up on a silver platter the other night.”
She glances around the room. It’s barely seven a.m., and the place is virtually empty.
“Someone has been dealing dirty drugs,” she relays in a low tone. “Seven ODs in the last month alone. Bad heroin with the same insignia on the bag. A motorcycle wheel. We’re trying to find the source.”
“And you think it’s a local?”
She shrugs. “You know this place; drugs run rampant through all the trailer park compounds. It’s easy to distribute low-quality, high-priced junk to a community of crackheads.”
“I saw it every day I worked in the ER. Drug addiction and motorcycle accidents were the main attraction.” It’s part of the reason I became a per diem nurse. I liked the action, but the severity of every injury started to weigh on me. Too much blood and bad reminders.
“So you understand why I’m telling you this?” she asks.
I nod.
“I would hate for you to get wrapped up in anything, even if it was only by association.”
“Well, you make a compelling argument to sway me to the no side,” I contemplate.
“But?” She sips her coffee, peering at me over the rim of the chipped white cup.
“No but,” I lie.
“Clear as glass,” she reminds me.
I huff. “I’m definitely attracted to him.”
“I can see why. Young, good looking, smart . . . And he doesn’t have a record.”
“How do you know what? Did you do a background check?”
“After the way I saw you two the other night, I thought it couldn’t hurt.”
“Seriously?” I splay my hands on the tabletop.
“I’m basically your mother. It’s my job to protect you.”
“You mean overprotect me?”
“However you want to interpret it.” She smirks darkly.
“I’m twenty-six-years-old. Maybe it can just be semi-protect now?”
“You can be one-hundred-and-twenty-six-years-old, and I will always be overprotective. When you’re a mother, you’ll understand.”
“I guess it could be worse. You could not care at all.” I can’t tell you how many kids I knew growing up whose parents couldn’t give a shit about them. Didn’t feed them, clothe them, or even care when they were arrested at age twelve for stealing or doing drugs. It’s just the plight of this forgotten area. Redneck riches, a bottle of moonshine, and a police record a mile long.
“That’s true. Just use your head, okay? Promise me.”
“I will.”
After the most fattening breakfast ever of fried eggs and greasy home fries, I pull into the parking garage of Mercy Medical. I’m going to have to run ten extra miles after work to burn off breakfast.
I hop out of my truck five pounds heavier and head to the elevators. As I approach them, what sounds like barking echoes in the nearly empty garage.
What the fuck?
I walk faster down the pavement, listening to the aggressive attack get louder and louder. It sounds like a kennel in here. As I turn the blind corner, I come to find Dr. Lipschitz being harassed by two men baying at him like savage dogs. I can’t see their faces, but I can see Dr. Lipschitz’s and the blatant terror in his eyes. He looks like he’s about to shit himself, pressed up against the brick wall.