When Tyler stepped into the bank, his skin crawled. No one noticed as the two bikers stepped into the lobby. Hell, it seemed like there were far less patrons than average. The tellers spoke in hushed tones and an air of concern thickened the air. 'Collapse' and 'hospital' squeaked from quiet voices.
His eyes instantly darted around the bank. Miranda was nowhere to be seen. Tyler's stomach churned and his blood chilled. He glanced toward Jack, his worries intensifying as the strained worry pinched across his face.
Sweeping the area once more, Tyler realized where Jack's worries stemmed from. The little blonde piece of ass wasn't present either. His heart sank to his stomach.
He needed answers. Tyler wove his way through the line and stepped up to the counter. “Excuse me, where's the bank manager?”
“Miss Groves?” The man looked Tyler up and down, obviously put-off by the leather and the injuries. “She's not here right now. Can I take a message?”
“I'm an old friend of hers,” assured Tyler, his smile turning tight and irritated. Jack awkwardly shifted beside him.
The teller's smile dimmed. His eyebrows dipped as a frown curled at his lips. “I'm sorry, I really don't thin–”
“Look, paper-pusher,” snarled Tyler. His hand darted out, grabbing the teller by the shirt, “I know more about Miranda Patrica Groves than your sorry ass does.” The man's eyes widened, his ruddy face paling as Tyler hauled him halfway over the counter. His gaze flickered to his co-workers, but all of them seemed frozen to the spot. Tyler ignored them as he spat, “Either you tell me what happened or you become acquainted with the bottom side of my chopper.”
* * *
The sounds of the hospital grated on Miranda's ears. Every announcement boomed in her ears; every footfall pounded on her nerves. Even the sounds of the morose waiting room were getting to her. She rubbed at her temples while trying to ignore the crinkle of magazines and the hushed whisper of the television.
Over and over, Miranda tried to calm her nerves. Naomi had been awake when the ambulance came. That was a good sign, right? Sure, the gash on her forehead looked awful, but the head bled profusely. Miranda's fingers inched upward, into her hair. She tugged at it, as if she could pull the worries from her very head.
What had she been thinking? She was dizzy and still tried to work? Shame and responsibility strangled Miranda's thoughts. She should have sent Naomi home. But, what if she passed out while driving? Miranda's heart fluttered before going cold. She didn't even want to humor the thought.
Familiar heavy footfalls caught her ears. Her eyes widened a split second before Jay and Tyler ambled into the waiting room. As her gaze caught Tyler's, her heart shuddered and skipped a beat. Heat crawled up from her core, threatening to spill across her cheeks. Somewhere, her mind teased her with the memories of her wet dream.
Miranda's rage took the wheel. She shot to her feet, hands clenched at her sides and stormed over to the two men. “What the hell are you two doing here?”
“We heard about Naomi,” answered Tyler. His lower stomach knotted as the alluring fire of anger flickered in Miranda's green eyes. He swallowed down his hormones. This wasn't the time to entertain his fantasies.
“No. I mean what are you doing in Legacy?” Remembering where she was, Miranda's voice dropped to a hiss. However, her tone lost none of its venom.
Tyler bristled with contagious anger. He barely smoothed his voice as he replied, “It's a long story. Can't we talk about it later?”
“No, let's talk about it now, Tyler.” Miranda felt crazed. Between worry for Naomi and utter rage toward Tyler, she wobbled on a precipice. He hadn't texted her and hadn't called. The few times she tried to get through to him, she was met with silence or an automated voice informing her of disconnection. He had done his best to cut her out of his life after he left Legacy. Why come back?
Tyler and Miranda locked glares. Tension and hackles rose.
Jack stepped right between the crossfire. Miranda's temper abated as the stranger blocked Tyler from her view. “Sorry to break up this lovers spat, but what happened?”
“Oh, you're the one she went home with. Why do you care?” Irritation swarmed back to her head. Jack probably shouldn't have used the term 'lovers spat.' She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms, her lips twisting into a thin scowl. Why did he care? Big bad bikers were always having meaningless flings, weren't they? That was the last thing her friend needed after today. “Wasn't Naomi just a fling for you?”
“It's not...that's...” Jack flushed as he stumbled over his words. Miranda's scowl deepened. He rubbed the back of his neck and his eyes fell to the floor. His face pinched in annoyance as he muttered, “It's complicated.”
“Yeah, I'm sure it is.” Miranda pursed her lips, letting her sour distaste curdle her words. “You two should get going. You're good at that.”
Uneasy lightning crackled between the three of them. Each one bristled, each one irritated. The pressure weighed down on them, crushing their chests, and making it hard to breathe.
“I'm sorry, um, Miss Groves?” A nurse scuttled up to Miranda. She clutched her clipboard close to her chest, and eyed the bikers with concern. When Miranda turned, she turned her attention to her clipboard. “Miss Larson is awake. She asked for you.”
Miranda completely forgot about the two men. Her anger whooshed from her thoughts and her thoughts spread in relief. She thanked the nurse and turned on her heel, feeling hot gazes on her back. She ignored the heat and marched into Naomi's room, leaving the nurse to fend for herself between Jack and Tyler.
Inside the room, Miranda gave pause. Naomi lay in the bed, pale as the sheets she was wrapped in. A bandage wrapped around her head, hiding the gash from view. Faintly, she wondered if she needed stitches. The dark bags under Naomi's eyes seemed less severe, at least.
Miranda edged closer to the bed. When Naomi's gaze caught her, she let out a sigh of relief. The blonde was much more alert than earlier. She advanced on the bed and perched herself on the very edge. “You all right?”
“Yeah.” Naomi's voice was still soft and weary, but there was a small dose of regained strength in her movements. “Any well wishers?”
Oh, yeah, Naomi didn't know about Jack and Tyler. Miranda glanced to the door, picturing the men beyond. For a brief second, she debated on telling Naomi. Upset wasn't what she needed, but she always had the ability to sever harmful people from her life. Well, better than Miranda, at least. “You won't believe who is out there.”
Naomi raised her eyebrows as her eyes glinted with curiosity.
Taking the unspoken cue, Miranda sighed, “Jack and Tyler are out there.”
“W-what?” Naomi's blue eyes widened. Light caught her irises, the shimmer making them seem glassy and even larger. Miranda even thought that, though her face paled, pinkness sunk into her cheeks. If she had been connected to monitors, the beeping of her heart would have increased rapidly.
Miranda eyed her friend, uncertain how to gauge her reaction. Was Naomi scared or excited? The hiccup in the air wasn't simply fear. There was a tingle to the atmosphere that made Miranda's flesh dance with goosebumps. “Yeah, they came back and heard about you.”
Naomi turned her gaze to the door, her delicate brows furrowing. She seemed to see beyond the door, to the men. Her fingers clutched tightly to the hospital blanket. Her cheeks bypassed 'pink' and became ruddy. Miranda watched her, patiently awaiting her next request. When Naomi turned her gaze to Miranda's face, she forced the quiet words from her throat, “Make them leave.”
“Why?” Miranda's eyebrows bounced up toward her hairline. Though she approved, she could see the longing in Naomi's eyes.
“Please, Miranda. Just make them go away.” Naomi's voice tipped into pleading as she averted her gaze. “I just need some time to think.”
Despite the flare of curiosity, Miranda nodded. Whatever thoughts churned through Naomi's mind managed to crack her carefree visage. New worries blossomed in her head. Leaning over, Miranda laid her palm over Naomi's, giving the started woman a smile. Before her friend could utter her gratitude, Miranda stood and made her way back to the waiting area.