Remember the Night (Nightriders MC Book 0) Page 2

  Cheers went up, only to be quickly shushed by the admissions clerk. I didn’t care and neither did the Nightriders. Tag was okay. And he’d keep the leg. That’s all that mattered.

  When I’d called the Russian to fill him in on the situation, I’d asked him to send Doc Carson down. Doc was human but he knew about Wolves, knew how we healed—not as quick as what Hollywood portrayed, but faster than human metabolism would allow. The Nightriders funded his clinic and the dude was on call 24/7 for us.

  I explained that that we had our own doctor coming to the ER doc and he gave me a “whatever” expression, said he’d pass the info up the chain, and then disappeared. He left behind a nurse who escorted us upstairs. The elevator filled with the combined smells of scalded milk and ripe bananas. She was nervous but curious and kept glancing at a couple of the guys. I had my arm around Gemma’s neck so she ignored me.

  Now that we knew Tag would survive, the brothers split up. Half stayed at the hospital, going upstairs to wait. The other half headed out to take care of business. I called Dancer to let him know the news.

  The nurse escorted us to a space smaller than the ER waiting room but with more comfortable furniture—padded chairs, a few love seats. There was a coffee maker and fixings. She pointed out the vending machines and the bathrooms. Then she disappeared.

  I settled on a love seat, pulling Gemma down beside me. Since she’d come to the hospital I wasn’t about to let her out of my sight. I’d waited too long to see her again. The night wore on, brothers coming and going as we waited. Having Gemma here, touching her, made it all tolerable.

  Gemma

  I AWOKE TO the low rumble of male conversation, my cheek pressed against something warm, if hard and unyielding. A well-muscled thigh. Luc’s. My muscles screamed in cramped protest as I stretched. Pushing tangled hair out of my face, I hoped I hadn’t drooled on him. I sat up and glanced around the waiting room through bleary eyes.

  “Mornin’, sunshine.” Lucas smiled at me and made a gesture. A moment later, one of the bikers appeared with a paper cup.

  Coffee. Caffeine in its purest form. I could smell it and almost shivered with desire. I cupped both hands around the cup and inhaled deeply, much to Luc’s obvious amusement.

  “Two sugars, hon,” the biker said with a wink.

  I sipped. Hot and perfect. I guzzled a long drink and sighed. I might just survive. Then a brain cell fired up. Two sugars? How had he known? My memory conjured up that night—sitting there in the diner with my brother and Lucas. They were older and drank coffee. I wanted to be old enough to attract Luc’s attention so I’d ordered coffee too. I’d taken one sip and choked. My brother laughed but Luc patted me on the back until I could breathe. He added two packets of sugar to my cup and said, “Try it this way.” So that’s how I drank my coffee from then on—black with two sugars.

  I glanced around the waiting room. A few women had arrived and sat with some of the men. Everyone watched me with open curiosity. My nervous gaze finally landed on Luc’s face. He was every bit as gorgeous as I remembered, even with the beard stubble shadowing his face. His cheekbones and jawline could cut granite. His shaggy hair was dark, and looked soft as mink fur. His brown eyes were the color of sliced agate, but I didn’t see cold stone when he looked at me. I saw nothing but warmth shining in them.

  “How’s your friend?”

  An emotion, something hot and hard, rippled through his eyes, changing their color for the brief moment it was reflected in their depths. “We’re still waiting to hear.”

  I’m sorry, Lucas.”

  He carefully disengaged my right hand from the cup I held and twined his fingers through mine. “He survived because of you, baby. You did good.”

  Embarrassed, I ducked my head, hiding my blush behind the layers of my messy hair. “He was hurt. I had to help,” I mumbled.

  Luc squeezed my hand but tensed as a doctor wearing bloody scrubs stepped into the room. The exhausted woman, eyes looking bruised against skin as pale as the surgical mask dangling below her chin, addressed the room at large. “He’s in recovery. The leg appears viable. We’re watching for any signs of rejection or infection. Go home. He’ll be in ICU for the next twenty-four hours.” Several of the men stirred and muttered. The doctor jutted her chin for emphasis. “And he’ll be in a drug-induced coma.”

  Luc uncoiled from his seat like some predatory animal. A wolf, I decided. That golden glint in his eyes, the tense muscles, his focus. He was a wolf, hunting. I squeezed his hand. The tensile strength in his body loosened as he spoke. “Thank you, doctor, for saving the leg. A couple of us will be here. He won’t be alone. Ever.”

  The doctor chewed her lips as two bright red spots flared across her cheekbones. “There’s no need for any of you to be here. I’m sure, since you brought him here from Kansas City, that you will trust Dr. Carson to look after the patient.”

  “He’s not a patient to us, doctor. He’s family.”

  At that, she surrendered and nodded. “Okay. I give up. Look, I do appreciate that you pulled strings to get Dr. Carson down here. We studied the surgical techniques he developed for traumatic battlefield injuries in medical school, but seriously, there’s nothing you can do for now.”

  Luc shook his head. “Not happenin’, doc. Tag’s never alone. A brother will be with him always. That’s just how we roll.”

  “Fine. One person at a time in his ICU room. Understood?”

  A laconic smile tugged the corner of Luc’s mouth and I caught a hint of his dimple. “Yes, ma’am. Understood.”

  I finished my coffee with a final gulp and tugged on the hand Luc still hadn’t released. He tightened his grip.

  “Um…Luc? I sort of need that hand.”

  He glanced down at me, looking puzzled. “What for?”

  Seriously? “Because I need to go down the hall.”

  His gaze narrowed, and now he looked suspicious. “What for?”

  He really was going to make me spell it out. “Down the hall?” I hinted. Luc continued to watch me, like I was going to escape or something. I lowered my voice. “Ladies room?”

  “Oh. Sure. Go ahead.” He pulled me to my feet and walked down the hallway with me. The door opened right as we reached it and two women wearing Harley T-shirts emerged. I stepped back to let them pass then had to tug my hand again before Luc let me go.

  I ducked inside, relieved to discover I was the only one in the bathroom. I needed a few minutes to myself.

  Lucky

  I LEANED A shoulder against the wall after grabbing a drink from the vending machine. We’d send a couple of the old ladies on a donut run soon. I still couldn’t believe that Gemma West was on the other side of this wall. She’d been a kid the last time I saw her. Now she was all grown up. My dick twitched. It liked the way she’d grown up—all curvy and sweet. Her hair had darkened over the years to a color between red and brown. Auburn. I think that’s what the beauty experts would call it. I just knew it was shiny and soft, even all messed up.

  Shit, her head on my thigh while she was asleep? I thought my fucking dick was going to burst the buttons on my fly. I tangled my fingers in her hair and when she woke up? Yeah, it looked like I’d fucked her all night long. But I couldn’t do that. Not yet. To much other shit to deal with first.

  But she was back, in my life, and I damn sure wasn’t going to lose her this time. Not that I had before. I’d run, yeah, and thought leaving her behind was the smart thing to do. How could I forget? Not remember the night I ripped out my heart, and that of my wolf’s. He’d always known she was ours. She was a kid, yeah, but we, the wolf and I, should have been there to look out for her, wait for her to catch up to us.

  And we would have, if not for fucking Ethan. I stood there that night, staring up at her house, willing her to come to the window so I could have one last glimpse. I’d shifted to wolf form because the cops were huntin’ my ass. I wanted to fucking howl but I didn’t. I waited until after midnight, hoping, but she never appe
ared.

  I took off after that. Ended up in Kansas City where I ran afoul of the Nightriders. After they beat the crap out of me, they took me in. They became the family I never had. And now I was back home, president of the Oklahoma chapter. And I’d found Gemma again, in the middle of a bloody wreck. Crazy fucking weird shit how that worked.

  The door to the bathroom opened and I shoved off the wall. Gemma had washed her face and tried to wash the blood off her shirt. Shit. Her pants were crusted with it, too. Tag’s blood. I had to force air into my lungs for a minute, remembering how close we’d come to losing him. Tag was more than the chapter’s enforcer. He was my best friend—him and Dancer. The Russian called us his three musketeers.

  I shrugged out of my vest and reached over my shoulder to grab my shirt and peel it off. “Here, babe. Take your shirt off and put mine on.”

  She stared at me—well, my chest anyway. She was breathing deeply and fuck! The orange ginger of her normal scent deepened to musk and I could almost taste scotch and chocolate brownies. She was turned on. I grinned and my wolf preened like she’d kissed his fucking nose or something.

  Gemma’s lips formed an “O” and she swallowed—hard. My dick sat up and I was damn glad I’d cinched my belt. The fucker would be stickin’ its head out looking at her if I hadn’t.

  “Like what you see, babe?”

  She sighed. She fucking sighed. Like a chick in the movies. Oh hell yeah. I was chuffed up now. I waggled the shirt at her. “Gem? Shirt. Now, babe.”

  “Uh huh. Yeah. Okay.”

  I tossed it over her shoulder, turned her around, and gave her little push back toward the door. After it closed behind her, I heard laughter. I glanced over my shoulder. Two of the old ladies were standing there laughing their asses off. Whatever.

  They jostled past me and went into the bathroom, still cackling. A minute later, Gemma was out of there, wearing my shirt. She’d bunched hers up in a ball.

  “I…um…” She was staring at my chest again. I put my vest back on. “Won’t you get…um…cold?”

  I didn’t laugh. Wolves had fast metabolisms and ran hot. I wouldn’t want to go romp shirtless in the snow but I wouldn’t freeze. “I have a spare in my saddlebags. I’ll put it on before we leave.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  I’ll admit to struttin’ a little when we walked back into the waiting room. One of the old ladies came in behind us with three boxes of donuts. The brothers descended on her like starving wolves. I grabbed a box and snagged the cherry-iced donut for Gemma and a bear claw for me.

  I handed it to her and her gaze collided with mine. “You remembered?”

  Grinning, I tried to look all nonchalant and shit. I remembered everything about her but I couldn’t let her know that. “Lucky guess.”

  “Yeah, that’s why we call you fuckin’ Lucky.”

  I cut my eyes to the man standing just behind Gemma. Gunner, the chapters’ other enforcer. “We gotta talk, Lucky. How’s Tag?”

  “Gonna pull through. And keep the leg.”

  “Fan-damn-tastic. Dancer called. I’m headed out to meet him.” He glanced at Gem. “Call me when you can.”

  I wasn’t about to leave Gemma alone, even wearing my colors. She had no clue about club life. With a slight dip of my chin, I acknowledged the request.

  Gemma tugged on my vest. “Luc? I…I need to go anyway. I have work tonight.”

  “I’ll take you home as soon as I talk to Doc Carter, ’kay?”

  “That’s not necessary. My car’s—”

  “At the garage.”

  “What? How?”

  “I took your keys while you were sleeping. Tinker came and got it. He’ll bring it by your place when he’s fin—” I stared at the smear of pink icing caught on the corner of her mouth. I couldn’t stop myself. I leaned in, swiped it off with my tongue and then kissed her. Fucking hell but she tasted sweet and it wasn’t the damn donut. It was all Gemma. I pulled her closer, covered her mouth with mine and got lost in her.

  When I could think with something besides my balls, I kissed her forehead and backed away. “Give me five, baby, then I’ll take you home.” I gave Gunner a sign. He wouldn’t leave her side until I returned. He was a brother. He had my back.

  Chapter 3

  Gemma

  I PICKED AT the stale bread surrounding the one slice of bologna on my sandwich. Once again, the month had lasted longer than my paycheck. At least the temperature wasn’t freezing and this table was tucked back in a spot out of the wind, and at this time of day, warmed by the sun. I’d decided to sit outside alone, too embarrassed by my pitiful excuse for a lunch to eat in the break room. As the door opened and my supervisor strode out, I regretted that decision. Getting cornered by him was never good.

  When he stopped and jerked me around so that my face was inches from his crotch, I didn’t get a chance to fight back. Two men appeared out of seemingly nowhere, grabbed the jerk, and dragged him around the corner of the building. A third man—Tinker—approached, his expression grim.

  “How long has that dickwad been harassing you?”

  “Don’t hurt him! God, he’ll fire me now.” I needed this job. I was holding on by my broken fingernails.

  “Bullshit. You tell Lucky about this?”

  Confused, I stared at him. Lucky? A second later, I made a guess. “You mean Lucas? No. Why would I?”

  Tinker looked disgusted. “Because you belong to him and Nightriders don’t put up with that kinda shit.” He glanced at my sandwich, my clothes—including the ratty hoodie that was my backup winter coat. “Fuck, babe. You need to talk to Lucky.”

  “Luc and me, we aren’t a…thing.”

  “Whatever you say, babe. Get inside before you freeze.”

  “You are not the boss of me,” I muttered, but went. I’d lost my appetite anyway.

  The good news, my boss avoided me for the rest of the day. The bad news arrived after work when I walked to the parking lot. Two Nightriders straddled their bikes which were parked next to my car.

  “Where to, babe?” The one who asked was tall, dark, and gorgeous. Not as handsome as Luc—no man would ever be as handsome as Lucas Malone where I was concerned, but this guy would make the girls chair dance.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Where ya headed?”

  “Well, not that it’s any of your business, but home.”

  “Nope. That’s not the agenda.”

  “Excuse me?”

  He laughed and muttered something about me being clueless. Polite, but clueless.

  “What store do you shop at?”

  “Store?”

  “Yeah, we’re making a grocery run.”

  “Groceries?” Were they thinking I was going to feed them? I barely had enough gas in my car to get to the restaurant for my shift and any tips I made was going for a couple of gallons. Groceries, or feeding big dudes like these two? Totally out of the question.

  “Babe, this isn’t hard. We’re taking you shopping at the grocery store. Are you drivin’ or am I?”

  In a confused haze, I unlocked my car and got it. It started on the first crank, heat poured from the vents, and it all but purred. I hadn’t had a bit of trouble with it since Tinker had worked on it. I heard the second biker laugh and say, “But I thought chicks liked to shop.”

  I drove to the store where I normally shopped. In the week since the accident, I’d learned the Nightriders knew where I lived. First Tinker had returned my car, running better than it ever had and with a full tank of gas, which was now depleted. That poor car had never had a full tank before.

  Parking, I got out and before I could stuff my keys in my pocket, Handsome Man snatched them and tossed them to his partner in crime.

  “Jinx, go fill the tank then meet us inside.”

  The one called Jinx had red hair and an infectious grin. He tossed off a salute and stuffed his long legs into my cramped front seat. I followed Handsome into the store. He had me push the cart while he filled it. I
finally learned his name when Jinx reappeared.

  “Yo, Bishop, get some of these cookies.” Jinx dumped an armload of various flavors of Oreos in the basket.

  “Bishop?”

  “Yo.” He didn’t look at me, too intent on combing through packages of steaks.

  “Is that really your name?”

  He glanced up. “Yeah, babe. It’s my club name.”

  “And he’s…Jinx?” I thrust my chin toward the redhead who was flirting with the girl behind the deli counter.

  “Yup.”

  “Uh, Bishop?”

  “Yo.”

  “Who’s paying for all this? I have like ten bucks in my checking account.”

  He tucked his chin and stared at me. “Babe.” That one syllable held a wealth of meaning. “You’re covered, yeah?”

  I didn’t like it but seriously? The food they were shoveling in my cart would last me months and Oreos! I hadn’t had sweets or real coffee or real meat in what seemed like months.

  “I’ll pay you back.”

  Now he glowered at me. “Babe.”

  Wow. Totally different meaning now. Maybe I was learning to speak biker. And that thought made me laugh. I hadn’t laughed in a good long while.

  “Damn, babe,” Bishop murmured. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful when you laugh. Damn Lucky.”

  Blushing ten shades of red, I put my head down and pushed. When they thought my cart was sufficiently full, we checked out. Bishop pulled out a wad of money, peeled off some hundreds and paid. Huh, being a outlaw biker guy must pay pretty darn well.

  They carried my bags to the car, followed me to my apartment, carried them inside and proceeded to put up the groceries. I checked my watch. I had just enough time to shower and change before I had to leave for the restaurant.

  “Uh, guys? I really appreciate your help but…you need to go now.”