Tyler paced the length of the dingy motel room. It was a small affair, with two single beds and threadbare carpet. The faucet in the bathroom leaked and the television always had a sheen of static under the shows. It was the only other motel near Legacy, though.
He muttered garbled obscenities under his breath as he ran his hands through his hair. Miranda had been none too gentle about giving them the boot. Beneath the barbed anger, though, a blunt pain echoed. He tried to ignore it.
On one of the beds, Jack slumped, elbows on his knees. He looked about ready to melt into the bed. Since they arrived at the motel, his eyes weren't focused on much of anything other than the carpet on the floor. Tyler paused as the first rumbles of words mustered their way from Jack's lips, “Maybe we should go back.”
“Why?” The heat rose in Tyler's face and his fingers flexed. Did Jack not remember the tongue lashing Miranda gave them? He didn't want to go through that sort of scenario, again. Or maybe he didn't want to see the vivid disgust scrunching Miranda's face all over again. Tyler's stomach lurched at the very thought.
“Well, we're back in town. Some of Pete's buddies might be hanging around,” muttered Jack. He tried to sound aloof, but there was a warble of concern under his words. “What if they put two and two together?”
The thought sent a shiver down Tyler's spine. Irritation overwhelmed the shiver, though. If they left, that'd be better for Miranda. Yet, they needed her help. His arm swept toward the door, as if it symbolized her, and he turned to Jack. “You heard Mir. They don't want us there.”
“Man, you hurt her and I didn't treat Naomi no better.” He shook his head and heaved a sigh. His shoulders hunched closer to his ear. The air of 'ashamed schoolboy' radiated around the massive biker. “She was texting me that whole weekend.”
Surprise blinked through Tyler's mind, disrupting the other thoughts. He hadn't heard that part of the story before. “What?”
“I didn't want to string her along, since we weren't gonna be staying, but I couldn't help replying. I knew it was wrong, that it put her in danger, but I couldn't help it.” Jack's hands dug into his hair as he leaned forward. His pinched expression and glassy gaze were on the edge of tears. As he slightly rocked back and forth on the bed, he croaked, “I can't help thinking I landed her in the hospital.”
Silence filtered into the room. Tyler's mind lolled over the information. Was that why Jack was so irritated with their delayed departure? He shot a sidelong glance to Jack, wondering if his companion had harbored some innate jealousy. Tyler sighed and shook his head. It didn't matter, now.
They were back in Legacy, Naomi was ill or hurt, and Jack wanted direly to see her. The only issue seemed to be Miranda. A flare of mixed feelings slapped Tyler across the face. He didn't even know what to think of her.
Jack interrupted his thoughts. “What do you think we should do?”
“I don't know,” sighed Tyler, shaking his head. “Go back in the morning, like you said?”
“We don't even know if they'll be the–” Jack's phone buzzed, interrupting his self-defeating moment. He jumped before he registered what was shifting against his leg. He dug the vibrating plastic from his pocket and eyed the touch screen. Relief eased the strain in his body, but he didn't glance up at his companion. “It's Naomi.”
Tyler edged closer, tempted to glance over at the phone. “Well, what does it say?”
“She's good. She's been released, but Miranda insisted on watching over her.” The rest of the strain eased from Jack's shoulders until they no longer crushed against his ears. His thumbs danced across the screen as he wrote a reply.
Tyler growled and crossed his arms. “Well, we won't be getting near Naomi any time soon, then.”
“They're at Naomi's place,” replied Jack, as if that fixed their issue.
“So? Miranda will lock that shit down.” Tyler's lips twisted into frown. He knew Miranda's stubbornness first hand. This time, maybe it was needed.
Jack shook his head, conviction in his own words. “She has no right.”
“Try telling her that,” Tyler snorted and rolled his eyes.
“We will.” Jack's determination flicked to Tyler's face. A sternness in his tone hammed his intentions through the air. There was no room for an argument. Jack turned his gaze back to his phone just as it buzzed in reply. “Naomi is asking we can bring some stuff over, though.”
“Now?” Pulling out his phone, Tyler double-checked the time. It was nearly eleven o'clock at night. Between the runaround from bank to hospital to motel - and the occasional stop for something to eat - they had nearly spent the whole day chasing the women around. Tyler couldn't help but wonder how sick Naomi really was if she were requesting food.
“Yeah, take a look,” Jack replied, flashing the grocery list in Tyler's direction. As he read the words, a chilly suspicion climbed across his thoughts. There weren't many reasons for the slapdash list. Glancing into Jack's face, he knew the man held the same thoughts. However, Jack's features pinched and a somber seriousness marked his face.
“Well, those things won't buy themselves,” sighed Tyler as he straightened from his hunch. He nabbed his keys and wallet from the table, not glancing over at Jack. His partner had way too much to deal with and delaying this reunion wasn't going to help any. Jack was out the door before Tyler even pocketed his keys.
Within a few minutes, both choppers roared off on an errand.
* * *
Try as she might, Miranda couldn't enjoy the steaming hot shower. The steam increased, mimicking the fog of her thoughts. A potpourri of emotions simmered in her head. Shameful happiness to see Tyler, coupled with complete disdain towards him, blotted out a lot of space. The glee clenched at her lower tummy while recollections of his last visit darted across her nerves. She growled, irritated with herself, and tried to focus on washing up.
She should be more concerned about Naomi than harboring reluctant fantasies about him. Though, there wasn't much more to worry about. The doctors released her from the hospital, completely confident she'd be fine. Currently she sat at her kitchen table, eating hastily baked chicken nuggets and sipping on milk.
Curiosity pinged across Miranda's thoughts, though. Naomi wanted Tyler and Jack gone, so she could 'think.' So far, she hadn't shared her musings with Miranda. Maybe they weren't all that important or she was simply shocked at their sudden arrival.
Faintly, Miranda wondered if there was more to Naomi's feelings for Jack than she was saying. Dual comfort and concern lit up at the very thought. She wouldn't be alone fawning over a seemingly unrequited love. But, Naomi would suffer. She wasn't used to feeling like that, was she?
Miranda went through the motions of finishing up her shower. She forced her mind into autopilot, washing her distracting thoughts away. When she was dry enough, she wrapped the towel tightly around her frame and stepped into the hallway. Padding toward the kitchen, she started to loudly speak to Naomi, “We should order in and watch one of those horrible B-movies you lov–”
Three sets of eyes turned toward Miranda. Her face flushed as she registered Jack and Tyler's presence. Her grip on the towel tightened while her stomach flipped. Shameful delight and mortification shifted through her thoughts. Heat snaked across her face and down her body.
Her gaze wandered to Naomi. Irritation flared, recognizing the hidden smile behind her friend's hand. Through her puckered lips, Miranda muttered, “I wasn't aware we were having anyone over. Excuse me.”
Before anyone could say anything, she stormed down the hallway to the single bedroom. Miranda's thoughts were exploding with frustration and embarrassment. Her knuckles turned white from her death grip on the towel. Once over the threshold of the bedroom, she slammed the door shut. The vibrations rattled through the walls of the whole apartment, dislodging dust from the ceiling.