22.

Caitlin

 

“Love you,” I hear him whisper as he slumps, then falls to the ground.

Jade begins to scream. “My daddy.”

I move her to drop down next to the unmoving form of the man I love more than almost anyone else in the world. The man who not only claimed me as his, but claimed my daughter, even when he didn’t have to. Taking bullets to protect her when her biological disappointment could think of nothing but hurting her.

Tears sting my eyes, but I can’t think of him like that right now. Years of training kick in as I gently but swiftly push Jade back completely out of the way and reach into my pocket for my cell. With no service up this part of the mountain, connecting with Duke drained my battery.

Crossing my fingers that he has it on him, I reach inside his cut for his cell phone. His battery is only at twenty-five percent, but it’s enough. I call 911 as I begin to assess the situation better, tearing at his shirt to not only get a better look at his injuries, but I use it to help staunch the blood flow while speaking to dispatch.

The sirens and flashing lights couldn’t have been more welcome. Once the paramedics were on site and I’d handed off custody, I was able to switch from physician to partner. And old lady to the Brimstone Lords’ president. Never had I been so happy to see police cruisers and ambulances come barreling down the bumpy, dirt drive where they immediately moved to action.

Guns drawn, the lawmen move about looking for more danger. “It was just him,” I tell them. Satisfied the situation is safe, I watch each man holster his gun then start taking in the scene. Tommy sends a man over to take my statement.

But before answering any questions from the officer, I dial Boss’s cell.

“Prez?” He answers. “Got a lead?”

I sniffle into the line. “This is Caity. He’s down, being transferred to Mercy as we speak. They’ll need to stabilize him, then transfer him out. He’ll need a level one trauma center. My guess Lexington or Nashville.”

“Jade?” he asks, which is sweet because I can hear the emotion in his voice for his fallen friend.

My sniffle deteriorates to a cry, but I manage to pull it back. “He saved her, Boss. He saved my girl.”

“Right. Sneak, Carver, Blood, get to Mercy. Duke’s down.”

I hear loud gasps and “Fuck.” Then the rumble of engines.

“Caity, me and Hero are comin’ for ya. Tommy there?”

“Yes. He’s… well he’s dealing with Aiden.”

“Aiden?” he asks.

“Mmm… my ex. Jade’s biological father.”

“So not Houdini?” He sounds disappointed. Not that I can blame him. If Houdini didn’t come after me and Jade, that means he’s still roaming free, which is a scary thought in and of itself.

“No. It was never Houdini.”

“Duke get him?”

“Yes.” I repeat my answer, as my voice cracks.

“Stay strong, Caity. I’m comin’.”

Only after I hang up do I allow myself to cry. And then remember there is a very patient police officer waiting to take my statement. So I wipe at my eyes with the back of my hand and square my shoulders. “Okay,” I say. “I’m ready.”

Once I’ve given every last detail from the moment I made the stupid decision to leave the compound, to when Duke took Aiden out in self-defense, making sure to clarify any details the young cop needs me to go over for him, my eyes naturally veer to where Aiden had fallen. Tommy Doyle has dropped a gray tarp with neon yellow stripes up each side over Aiden. Then he walks to his cruiser to grab out a warm blanket, which he brings over to drape around me and Jade as I’m holding my girl on my lap.

“You okay, Caity?” He asks. “You’re shaking. Might be going into shock. Let me get someone over here to check you out.”

“No. They already did. I’m fine. Jade’s fine. Just nerves. I’ll be fine after I have time to ruminate on all that’s happened. That’s once I know Duke will be okay.”

“Duke.” My daughter whimpers. “He said he’s my daddy.”

I kiss her forehead and snuggle her tighter against my body.

“Alright.” Tommy places a hand on my shoulder while the other officer types on the tablet where he’d recorded my statement. “You told Officer Woodward everything?”

I nod.

“Good girl,” comes his patronizing response.

Before I get sucked into a depression, because forcing a person to relive such a hideous situation especially so soon after it occurred can cause a person to get sucked into a depression, bike engines and an extended cab pickup rumble onto the scene. The pickup about thirty seconds behind the bikes.

Hero and Crass hop off their bikes to head first to a very dead Aiden. Tommy leaves me to join them. Boss and Elise hop out of the truck to get to me. “Had to drop off the bike. Figured you’d like your friend.”

Elise kneels down at my side to wrap her arms around me and Jade. The hug is so welcome and comforting, I almost break down again.

“Can she go?” Boss asks Officer Woodward.

“Sure, she’s finished her statement. She’s free to go.”

Both he and Elise take an arm to help pull me—and thus my daughter, who has her legs wrapped around my waist, holding on for dear life—up onto my feet. They walk me over to Duke’s truck, but before I get in, I yell over to Tommy to remember the dead druggie inside the trailer.

With Jade in her booster, Elise takes the keys from my hand. “I’m driving you to see Duke. Beau will meet us there.”

And like a true friend, she doesn’t ask me to go over anything that happened, choosing to turn on the radio instead. I need that reprieve. Then once we’re down the mountain, back in town, she pulls into a drive-thru to get me a large hot coffee before continuing on to Mercy Medical Center. It takes us another twenty-five minutes to get there.

Duke is already in surgery when we arrive. They’re trying to stabilize him enough to be moved. I won’t cry. Not here. Not now. Though my resolve starts to slip when a sleepy Jade’s eyes begin to water. “He’s my daddy,” She tells the receptionist.

We’re dirty and look like we’ve been to hell and back, which we have. But I don’t have two cares to give at the moment. I want my Duke. I want to hold him, cuddle up next to him while we watch movies. I want to make him stuffed peppers and Limoncello cake again. To kiss him, to love him. To wake up every day for the rest of my life next to him. Is that so much to ask?

No. No it’s not. We deserve our happily ever after.

Mercy transfers him over to Lexington where they keep him for a week. A very long week since when my biker old man begins to feel better, he begins shouting down the walls that his woman is a doctor so he can be discharged. Thankfully Lexington doesn’t agree with him, although I assure them I can take care of him. I’d prefer not to.

I drive the new truck to pick him up, smoother ride and all. He bitches at me to hand over the keys, but for once he has to take my orders. His doctors haven’t cleared him to drive. Funny thing is, I was gone for maybe three hours tops. But when we walk back inside the doublewide, literally all my furniture is there, and they’ve even situated everything exactly as I had it at the rental.

None of Duke’s old furniture remains.

“What’s all this?” I ask, practically stumbling over my words.

“Moved you in. No sense you paying rent on a place you’re never gonna be at. This is our home Doc. You, me, and Peaches. Ain’t letting you go.”

There it is, his declaration.

The man is a horrible patient. I’ll bet Lexington was glad to be rid of him. Never a man to stay idle for long, the continued bed rest and recovery time begins to weigh on the both of us.

Though even if we haven’t said the words yet, this is us. For better or worse. I’ve had to remind myself of that a couple of times.

Two weeks after that night, after I made him stuffed peppers and Limoncello cake. After he helped me tuck Jade into bed despite the pain it caused him to bend over, and against my advice, I might add. After I’d undressed him and we’re lying in bed, he begins to tease me, rubbing his finger over my most sensitive areas. It’s torture. He grows hard right in front of my eyes.

“What are you doing?” I, well, pant would be the word for it.

“What’s it look like. We’re gonna fuck, but you’re gonna have to do the work tonight, honey.”

“We can’t have sex. You were shot.”

“Yeah, I was shot. Didn’t break my dick. Now climb on.”

“I’m not climbing on.” I protest.

“That fine ass won’t hit my thigh wound, so we ain’t got nothing to worry about.”

“You’re still healing.”

“Listen woman, you either climb on my dick right now, or I’m gonna pick you up and drop you on it.”

And I can tell how serious he is, so gingerly, I climb on and ride, if only to set the pace. When he climaxes, his shouts are as much from pain as ecstasy.

“Maybe I shoulda thought that one out better,” he admits.

“Really? You think?”

“Don’t wanna hear it.” That would be a grouse, if I ever heard one.

“Man you’re a pain in my ass. You’re lucky I love you, Duke Ellis.”

“Now that’s the damn truth. Lips,” he then orders. And as I always do, I lean in to give him my lips.