Cruise (Savage Disciples MC Book 6) by Drew Elyse (29)

I transferred the little bundle in my arms to the waiting father, dutifully ignoring the tears in his eyes as he took his baby girl.

“Mind her head,” I cautioned in a quiet, encouraging voice. Gently, I brought my hand to his arm, urging him into the best position.

“She’s beautiful,” he whispered in awe.

“She is,” I agreed, but how fervently he felt that was far more so.

“Everything’s okay?” he asked, worry masking his features.

“Everything looks great,” I assured. “The physical exam yielded no concerns. We drew blood to run a couple screenings, and the doctor will let you know the results once we have those.”

He blew out a breath, only to suck one back in and hold it when she started to cry. Across the room, the mother stirred at the sound.

“She’s probably hungry,” I explained, hoping to ease his mind. He nodded nervously and carried her over to his wife. “Our lactation specialist is just down the hall if you’d like me to send her in.”

Mom, already on alert, answered, “Yes, please. That would be great.”

I offered them both a smile as I stepped out. Julia, who was in charge of overseeing me for the first few weeks, nodded to indicate I’d done well.

It was my third day on the job, and I was on cloud nine. There were times—they were rare, but they happened—when I’d wondered if I was pursuing the right path. I’d lain awake at night once or twice worried I wouldn’t love the job as much as I’d hoped. Those fears had been largely dispelled during my senior practicum, where I shadowed a pediatric nurse practitioner, but starting here had truly laid them to rest.

The shifts were long, and I knew the hours would be particularly grueling when I had to do my rotation on nights, but every day was rewarding.

Luckily, Stone—being the biker boss he was—had the freedom to make his schedule what he wanted usually, so my time with him wouldn’t be too decimated by my work. Even better, I knew he was the type of man who wouldn’t begrudge me if it was.

However, based on the text I’d received about an hour ago from him, tonight wasn’t going to be our night.

It was terse, though I wasn’t sure how to take that. I’d never texted Stone. It might be that he always sounded like that, but I worried the “club business” was more of the type that would have him pouring scotch—what I’d learned was his drink of choice besides beer—when he was done.

I also thought checking in when I left and got home was a little extreme, but I didn’t mention it. More than once since we’d gotten together we’d had what I was now calling the “Evie’s Car Discussion,” this so coined because it began—on more than one occasion—with Stone stating, “We gotta have a discussion about that car of yours.” This “discussion” began with how it was time to replace my car, moved onto how it was unsafe—at which point the argument “I found you on the side of the road, for fuck’s sake,” came up—and then ended with me none-too-sweetly explaining that since I apparently wasn’t moving out, I’d get a new car after a few months with my new paycheck when I could afford one instead of taking one from “the garage” like he suggested.

Thus, I was feeling assured that his request for me to notify him of my movements was a not-so-subtle dig at my car. Since I’d rather avoid that topic, especially if he was going to get back late as it was, I let it go. Two texts might be ridiculous, but it wouldn’t kill me.

“You did a great job today,” Julia said after I’d spoken to Stacy—the lactation specialist—and sent her to the waiting couple.

“Thank you.”

She checked the time, then told me, “You can go ahead and get out of here. I have to log your day before I get off.”

I looked around to the clock behind the nurses’ station, seeing it was ten to seven, and thinking I really needed to get used to checking my watch. I’d never worn one before, but it was a necessity of the job. In time, I’d get used to looking there instead of checking wall clocks or my phone.

“Sounds good. I’ll see you Friday,” I said, heading to the locker room to grab my things.

When I had everything and made the walk out to my car, I sent my obligatory text to Stone.

It wasn’t until I was already on the road that I realized I had forgotten I wasn’t heading straight home. No, I had to drive across town to the diner. Sal, the owner, was—for want of a better term—a douche. I knew for a fact he wouldn’t be giving any waitress he hired to replace me my worn-out shirt or the stained apron, but he required me to return them, or he’d take eighty dollars out of my last check. Seeing as the aprons were cheap, bulky, unadorned ones and the t-shirt was about as low quality as they came, I was not about to let him charge me that much. He’d given me until Friday to return them, and my hope was that Stone and I would be able to stay in alone the next day. So, a trip to the diner it was.

I contemplated letting Stone know, but my phone was in my purse on the passenger seat, and I was firmly anti-texting-while-driving. It was a minor stop, even if it was out of the way. I’d just let him know when I left the diner.

The lot was mostly empty when I pulled up. Thinking about it, it should have been obvious that Stone was interested in me even if he said otherwise, if only because the food was terrible at the diner. Certainly not worth coming in as often as he did. Even if he didn’t cook at all, there were better places to go in town.

Grinning to myself at the thought, I grabbed the uniform and got out of the car. Karen didn’t bother to look up when the door opened. There was a dated sign that informed customers they should seat themselves, so she didn’t feel the need to put in the effort to acknowledge anyone. She’d get to it when she felt like doing so.

I approached the counter, my eyes lingering on the seat Stone always took. I wouldn’t miss this place, but I felt a pang of nostalgia for that chair. Not that the chair mattered much when I had the man it reminded me of next to me in bed every night.

“Hey, Karen,” I greeted, forcing her to look up.

She popped her gum once, causing me to hide a cringe. I was glad there had always been only one waitress on at a time. I don’t think I could have made it through a whole shift with Karen chomping away like she did. “Thought you quit,” she said like I would be there in the middle of her shift to magically relieve her if I hadn’t.

“I did. Sal wanted the uniform back,” I explained. “He told me to just leave it with whoever was on.”

She looked at it like she was going to claim taking the clean articles of clothing from me was akin to being asked to stick her hand in a medical waste bin, but she took the pile anyway. “What should I do with it?”

Rolling your eyes is rude, I could hear my mother’s voice in my head. It was rarer and rarer it would happen, but now it grated on my nerves even more than whatever was irritating me.

“I don’t know. Maybe just leave it next to the time clock?” I suggested.

She shrugged. Okay, then.

“All right. I’ll…um…see you around.” I probably wouldn’t, but it was better than ‘goodbye forever.’

“You working at the hospital now?” she asked before I could leave.

Frankly, I was shocked she remembered that piece of information about me. “Yeah.”

She surprised me further by saying, in what seemed to be a truly genuine way, “Good for you.”

Floored, I muttered, “Thanks.”

She nodded, and I knew that was that. My one profound—all right, that might be an exaggeration—moment with Karen, and right before we’d all but cease to exist to each other.

Bizarre.

My mind was still on the exchange as I stepped outside and approached my car. I can only imagine that was why I didn’t notice him. Not until it was too late.

I heard him, too close, before I saw him. “Was thinkin’ you weren’t comin’ in.”

Wheeling around, I saw he was right behind me. He was big, nearly as big as Stone, and he wore a cut, too. But he wasn’t one of the Disciples. I’d know it even if I hadn’t met them all. The leer of his eyes, the crooked-toothed grin, the very lines of his body that brought him far too close to me all said ‘creep.’ No way he’d be let into the club.

I started to back away, wondering if I should make for my car or back inside the diner when he mockingly raised a gun from his pocket. “Now, now, gorgeous. Where the fuck d’ya think you’re goin’?”

The hammering of my heart was so loud I couldn’t think, couldn’t concentrate enough to make a move.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he said, stepping in even closer until I could smell stale beer and cigarettes on his breath. “You’re gonna come with me, or I’ll fuckin’ shoot you right in your pretty face. Don’t really matter to me which one you pick. Get me?”

Since I didn’t have much choice, I made myself nod.

“Good. And I’ll add on, you scream, I’ll shoot you before you can get a lick of attention. Yeah?”

Another nod.

“Good. Turn around and walk, bitch.”

I did, following the pressure of the gun against my back to a beat-up van parked around the side of the restaurant. When I got close, he reached around me to slide the back open. I saw another man in the driver’s seat for half a moment.

Then, there was a burst of pain in my head.

And blackness.