5.

Caitlin

 

It’s been five days since Duke showed at my home, cooked me dinner and gave me the single best orgasm of my life. I took the week off to see to Jade’s recovery, referring my patients to Dr. Brighton, the only other general practitioner in town. Older than dirt and thinks women have no place in medicine. Hell, he thinks women have no place out of the kitchen, which is rough for my female patients he has to see, but my daughter comes first.

She’ll always come first.

Her bruising has been healing nicely. Come Monday, I’ll have to go back to work. But for today, after I got my girl bathed and dressed, we loaded in the car to head to Nashville. I’ve been thinking Nashville might be a nice place to move. So we’re having a girls’ day to check it out. Just the two of us, since we don’t have anybody else.

We’re about fifteen minutes outside of Thornbriar when some jerk, probably texting and driving, passes us but veers back over too soon, cutting me off. I swerve hard to the right to avoid a front end to tailend collision, but he sideswipes my car, forcing us off the road.

I lose control, pulling hard left on the steering wheel in an effort to straighten us out, at the same time I slam on the break. We end up skidding on the gravel. The rear of the Jeep clips the rock and bounces off, swinging us around until we head-butt the mountain. My front airbags deploy, as do the side-curtain airbags. I turn to check on my daughter, scared in her car seat.

A hit and run. Exactly what I don’t need today, or ever.

The seatbelt has Jade’s little body pressed taut and erect against the seatback. She wears a stunned face, and her bottom lip trembles, but otherwise she appears to be fine. “What happened?”

“Someone hit us, Princess Jade. How are you? Does anything hurt, baby?”

“No Mama,” she answers right away, though it’s with a thickness to her voice.

“Are you scared?”

Slowly, she nods, continuing to hold back the tears by trembling her little lip.

While reaching into my purse on the floor of the passenger side—it had been thrown from the seat—for my cell phone, I try to reassure her. “Okay, you’re okay Jadie. I’m going to call for help.”

About ten minutes after my call, a police cruiser rolls to a stop behind us, all six plus feet of sculpted Sgt. Tommy Doyle exits the vehicle. I know him from around town, but also, he’s Elise’s husband’s best friend. I got to hang out with his wife Maryanne that girls’ night in. She’s a paralegal at Brown, Morris and Lazinski, in Bartleton, one town over. Funny, beautiful, a delight to be around.

Tommy approaches our car, and I roll down my window. “Sgt. Doyle.” I greet him.

His gaze cuts from my car to my eyes. “Girl please. You partied with my wife. She likes you, which means I like you. Which means to you, I’m Tommy. Not Sgt. Doyle.”

A laugh bubbles up, a laugh because he’s so downhome, so personable, that I can’t help it. “Okay.”

“So what the hell happened?”

It takes me ten more minutes to explain everything that went down, since I have to pause in several places for him to write down the account on a tablet, while asking poignant questions along the way. When finished taking my statement, he calls the tow for us.

Tommy waits with us until the tow shows. Ellis Auto & Towing written in bold, red lettering across the side of the truck with the phone number printed below. Crap. Ellis Towing? Duke’s company.

One of the brothers, a man called Sly, exits the vehicle where he saunters up to us, greeting Tommy before taking in my car and giving a low, slow, over dramatized whistle. Sly’s long, dishwater hair he keeps pulled back in a ponytail, hangs down his back. And his cut is visible from beneath his coveralls because he neglected to button them all the way up, probably on purpose to show his affiliation with the Lords.

He’s very handsome, too. A full beard. Deep blue eyes. Chiseled jaw and high, straight cheekbones. And no wedding ring, which means he undoubtedly has a whole slew of females hanging around at any given time, for any level of companionship.

“Hey Dr. Brennan, this doesn’t look too bad. Still, how ya doing?”

Shoot. He’s nice, too.

“Uh, we’re fine. Thank you for asking.”

“We?” he asks, then peers inside the backseat. “Shit. You got a baby in the back.”

“I’m not a baby.” Jade protests loudly. “I’m in pweschoowl.”

“Sorry, little miss.” He smiles a beautiful sly smile, and I get it, the nickname. “Forgive me.” He finishes then turns to Tommy. “Can you take them? I don’t have room for the booster in my truck.”

“No problem,” Tommy answers.

I’d probably be able to drive my Jeep back, even if it limped down the highway, if it weren’t for the airbags having deployed. It hurts my heart to see half the hood of my car smushed like an accordion, and the bumper partially hanging off, but I’m thankful the safety cage did its job and kept us from feeling the brunt of the crash.

Tommy kneels into the backseat to unhook Jade, then grabs her and her booster. This section of highway is carved through the center of a mountain. High, jagged, barren rock faces to both sides of us. I suppose we got off lucky. Some sections have mountain to one side, but then only a railing, then drop off to the other.

Sly helps me from the vehicle, holding my hand while he leads me to a safer spot along the shoulder. He drops it when Tommy passes my daughter off to me, though he does it lingeringly so I’m forced to shift Jade’s bottom into one hand until he finally releases the last finger.

It’s unbelievably loud with the cars whipping past us, and there’s a choking stench of exhaust hanging over our heads. Jade holds tight like a baby spider monkey clings to its mother, so much that my pale yellow ‘Trust me, I’m a doctor’ T-shirt rides up the back exposing a large expanse of skin. I attempt to pull it down as we walk our way over to the police cruiser, to no avail.

Before we move to leave, I set my girl on the hood of Tommy’s car to perform a quick onceover. Eye check for dilation. Sound of her breathing. Any new bruising or pains. Everything checks out. The crash wasn’t that bad, more scary than anything.

Not a moment later, Sly leans inside my car to turn it on and set the gear to neutral in order to hook it up to the flatbed. “I got this,” he says to Tommy. “See you back at the shop.”

Back of the cruiser, Tommy drops Jade’s booster in the center and hooks her in, then holds open the passenger front door for me.

I slide in and buckle my seatbelt, watching as he rounds the hood of the car to fold himself behind the steering wheel. Starting the engine, he checks his mirror then pulls a u-ie. As he straitens out of the U-turn, he flips off the flashers. Day ruined, we head back toward Thornbriar.

“You don’t have to take us to the shop.”

Tommy raises an eyebrow at me. “Oh no? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?”

I shake my head. “I think we’re good on that front.”

“Right, then don’t want your car fixed?”

“Well yes, sure I do. But you can drop us at home. They can call me with the estimate. Maybe I’ll just get a new car.”

Blinker on, he merges with the off-ramp. “You got something against Ellis Auto & Towing? Don’t think I didn’t see your face when the truck pulled up.”

“No. It’s not my problem. For some reason, Duke doesn’t much like me. And Ellis’s is his company. So it would be better if I wasn’t around.”

In that moment Tommy’s look goes from questioning to beautifully mischievous. “Is that so?” he asks. “No, I think I better take you to the shop. If nothing else, Boss would want me to take you there since his wife’s your friend. To make sure you’re okay, and all. Elise would freak out if he didn’t.”

On a huff, I cross my arms over my chest, wincing slightly from the movement. I probably have a bruise from where the seatbelt pulled taut. Rather be bruised than dead. Although we didn’t hit hard, an accident is an accident, which means it could have ended badly. “Really, I should just go—”

Up until now, Tommy had been friendly and a downhome good ’ole boy. That friendly, easy-goingness evaporated with the blink of an eye. “I said I’m taking you to the shop. So I’m taking you to the shop.”

Since I don’t know what to make of the finality of his words, his tone, I decide for the moment not to argue my point any further. Though I don’t engage him in anymore friendly banter, either. Why should he care so much if I see Duke or not?

The cab of his cruiser becomes an awkward place to be. Until, oblivious to all of it, Jade begins to sing her favorite song. Her little girl voice almost hits all the notes to You Are My Sunshine. And I begin to sing along with her, turning to look at her face as I do. Surprisingly, Tommy Doyle begins to sing with us, too. He catches Jade’s eye in the rearview mirror, and they smile at one another.

Without thinking, I blurt the first thing that comes to mind. “You and Maryanne should have a kid.”

His eyes cut to me, then back to the road. “When she wants it, we will. ’Til then, I’m enjoying time, just me and my wife.”

Our conversation ends when Tommy clicks on his blinker once again, slowing to a snail’s pace, and turns into the lot of Ellis Auto & Towing. Standing out front of Ellis Auto & Towing, wiping his hands on a greasy rag, is none other than the Ellis of Ellis Auto & Towing, himself. Icing on the cake, the scowl forming across his face as we lock eyes.

Sgt. Tommy Doyle fixes his gaze on Duke, back on me, and chuckles while turning into a spot then cuts the engine.

In the time I take stalling to get out of the cruiser, Tommy has Jade in one arm, her head resting on his shoulder, while carrying her booster in his other hand.

Duke approaches. “Peaches,” he says to Jade. Not even a hello for me. But then he reaches his hands out to her, and because for some reason she’s taken with him, Jade reaches back, twining her tiny arms around his neck.

“You hurt anywhere?” He asks and sounds concerned.

“No,” she answers, moving her head to lean, not on Duke’s shoulder as she had Tommy’s. But because of the sheer size of him, Jade places her head against his chest and snuggles to get comfortable. He’s so sweet to her. I don’t know what he says because he whispers in her ear, but her little head bobs up and down in agreement to whatever he’s said.

Nerves that I’d managed to keep in check during our ordeal finally catch up. I feel hot, my cheeks and the back of my neck. A nauseous feeling forms in the pit of my stomach. Water, I need to splash water on my face. “Is—uh—” I clear my throat. All male eyes dart to me. “Is there a restroom I can use?”

“Yeah, use the office one. It’s cleaner. In the lobby, through the door behind the desk. First door you come to,” The biker president offers.

“Thank you.”

After following Duke’s directions, I find myself standing at the sink, cold water running. The cold coming off the stream hangs in the air around the basin and feels good. I breathe it in for a few seconds then pull several sheets of brown paper towel from the metal dispenser and run them under the faucet to get them soaking wet. I place most of the drenched towels against the back of my neck. The others of the stack I use to cool off my face. And I keep repeating the actions until the nausea subsides completely.

Not nearly ready to face Duke Ellis, but knowing I really have no choice since he’d been the one holding my daughter before my anxiety-fueled retreat, I throw the paper towels in the trash and straighten my shirt and hair back to respectability, then return to the group outside.

A pleasant surprise, Sly is standing between Duke and Tommy, the three men faced toward me in a wide-legged, manspreading, semi-huddle. They appear to have been talking about me. The evidence of that being when the conversation abruptly stops upon my arrival. Sly looks me up and down. There’s a glint in his eyes joining the wicked grin on his lips when he finally pats Duke on the shoulder and starts for me.

Duke’s arm, the one not holding Jade, shoots out to halt him to the spot.

Tommy’s hands go to his hips with his head bent down. It’s apparent by the way he bites his top lip, he’s trying and on the verge of failing not to laugh.

Several more of the men have come out of the bays, partly I’d guess to get a better look at the damage inflicted on my pretty Jeep from the accident. The other part to watch the byplay. Though, I can’t think about that.

Seeing it up on the flatbed, it hits me that we’re going to have to find a ride to the next town, bigger than Thornbriar by a town and a half, to rent a car now.

“Hey pretty lady,” Sly calls out, drawing my attention away from my poor broken ride. “You got your color back.”

“My color?” I ask.

“Yeah, you were looking a little gray when I got to the scene.”

I hadn’t realized. Tommy asked me if I thought we needed to go to the hospital, but he never said, ‘Hey Doc, you look sick.’

“Well, that tends to happen when you’re the hit in a hit and run. I’m better now, though. Thanks for your concern.”

“Where were you heading?” he asks.

“Jade and I were going to do a girls day in Nashville.” I swear I see every man in the forecourt cringe when I mention Nashville. What’s wrong with Nashville?

“By yourself?” Bizarrely comes his next question.

“Yes. Jade and I have traveled quite extensively by ourselves.” What? Because I’m a woman I can’t follow highway signs or a GPS? “And I want, no strike that, after today, I need a really good coffee. A Frappuccino.” To accentuate my need, I throw my hands out in front of me, then pull them back to hook my thumbs in my belt loops when the men laugh at me. I’m not being funny.

“If you can give me about a half an hour, I’d be happy to take you.” Sly then surprisingly, generously offers.

As if the universe wants to remind me how much I don’t understand men, or at the very least, a certain black-haired, goateed, tattooed man, Duke breaks from the group, still carrying Jade, to walk over to me.

“Won’t be necessary, brother,” he says to Sly as he slides his arm between my arm and torso to hook around my waist, pulling me snug against his side.

Some of the brothers smile, some stare down at their feet, shaking their heads. Sly simply answers, “Gotcha.”

But I’m confused. Too confused to let it go. “Hey Prez, what’s going on here?”

Instead of answering me, he hollers over to the brother called Crass, a new transfer from the Illinois chapter of the Lords. He came into the picture around the same time I did. The man Boss and Elise named their son Gunner after, I’d heard all about how he’d almost lost his life protecting Elise when she was being actively hunted by that biker, murderer and genuinely bad guy from a rival club, Houdini.

I didn’t have to imagine, because I lived their surprise along with them, when he turned out to be Boss’s thought to be dead cousin, Logan Hollister a.k.a. the reason Livvy took off. Since he tried to kill Liv, too. And the nutcase is still out there somewhere, roaming free and able to strike again. He might even still be hanging around Thornbriar, if Elise’s feeling of being watched holds merit.

Yes, so Duke calls out to Crass, “You call me with the estimate, yeah?” Though it’s formed as a question, it’s an order.

“Sure thing, Prez. You got it.” Crass calls back from the backend of the flatbed where he examines my poor, banged-up Cherokee.

Why call Duke and not me? It’s my Jeep. Curious and slightly aggrieved, I try to get him to talk to me. “Hey Prez…” Nothing. “Duke…” He continues to ignore me. Which means it’s time to try something new. “Chief?”

Finally a reaction. “Chief?” he asks.

“As in Commander in Chief. You know, because you’re the president.” That garners a laugh from the big guy.

“Come on,” he whispers in my ear before he moves his lips to press a sweet kiss to the side of my jaw. Now he has me really confused. The man holds my daughter. His arm around my waist. And he kissed me in front of his brothers.

Men.