“How’d this happen?” I asked him, trying to keep him conscious. I was hoping maybe he could at least explain the encounter he had, but with the previous track record of his speech, it was unlikely. I noticed his eyes flicked to Crush, asking silent permission. I turned to the man in question, raising an eyebrow. “Wanna tell your guy here that if he doesn’t talk—”
“Jumped,” the stabbed guy said quickly and in one breath. I looked back to him, his eyes focused on mine. “In the alley. A few blocks from here. Couldn’t see his face.”
“He just stabbed you and left?” I asked disbelievingly. The guy nodded, and his eyes went to the ceiling. I looked to Crush, dead serious, “You all are in some deep shit if your surgeon has to come in twice within the span of a day. Better figure it out.”
A club member came in with my requested supplies, and I got to work. Thankfully, there were enough rags to clean up all the blood, and I could see what I was working with better. The wounds on his abdomen and thigh weren’t as deep as I first thought. The one near his ribs was the most concerning, but there wasn’t any bruising to suggest his lung had been injured.
Crush watched me intently as I kept working. I stitched up the leg wound first, confirming that no artery was hit. Sweat broke across my brow, and instinct had me asking for a cloth, but I caught myself. I made eye contact with Crush’s deep brown eyes more than once, his presence both nerve-racking and calming.
He seemed to understand after last night that I worked best in silence. The tension was thick, and not all of it negative. There was some sexual tension between the two of us as well. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t at least a little attracted to him.
After two hours, the biker I was stitching up was off on his own power to his own room to heal. It had gone better than I could expect without a team, IV, and proper medical equipment. That had been one of the more serious injuries I had dealt with. I threw my latex gloves in the trash, congratulating myself on another job well done.
At least that was another hundred dollars towards my debt,I thought.
And now, I was off to my apartment to eat a slice of birthday cake I bought at the store this afternoon after I had slept for ten hours straight. Speaking of sleep, my bed was calling my name, and I needed the rest for tomorrow, especially after a surgery that time intensive. I had a shorter, five-hour shift tomorrow morning. And mornings in Vegas were interesting—it was either fucking crazy, or absolutely nothing happened. There was no in-between.
I was at the front door where I entered the warehouse, my foot on the threshold, when a burly arm barred my exit. Crush. I didn’t even look at him and simply ducked under his arm. I was not going to be prevented from sleep and cake tonight. They already had me enough this past day. Whatever he needed could wait.
“I want to talk to you,” Crush’s voice called behind me.
I could hear his footsteps following me as I walked to my car. I contemplated how fast he was versus how close I was to my car. But based on his long strides, it was going to be a fruitless attempt that either pissed him off or fully enraged him. And considering I had a shift in the morning, I really needed to not die tonight. I turned around and faced him.
“And I want sleep and cake,” I called back.God, he is handsome, I thought as he walked up to me. It was no use to try and run. Whatever beef he had with me, or that King had with me, was not going to be outrun. I leaned against my driver's side door. “Didn’t your mom ever tell you that we don’t always get what we want?”
“Don’t got a mom,” Crush shrugged as he towered over me with a smile. “And I’ll have you know, sweetheart, I usually get what I want.”
“And what, exactly, is that?”
“I want to take you out.”
Silence fell between us. The thought of a date with Crush had butterflies in my stomach.What would King think? I didn’t ever hear anything about him caring, but something about Crush seemed…different. Somehow. But there was something enticing about him that was drawing me in, and I couldn’t resist.
“Lemme get this straight,” I said, giving him a pointed look. I crossed my arms, and I watched as his eyes bounced to my breasts before meeting my eyes. I had come to realize that bikers were no different than average men—a nice ass and tits got you rather far sometimes. But tonight, I found it even less flattering than usual. “I fix your leg after an eighteen-hour shift at the hospital, and I fix your buddy on my day off. Now you want to fuck me?”
“In my defense, I wanted to fuck you before you fixed up my guy back there,” he smirked.
I couldn’t help but laugh a little, but I recovered quickly. It was an honest answer, and very Crush in nature. For some reason, however, I could not stop smiling as I looked at him. I saw desire plain in his eyes. He wasn’t lying.And he’s so close I can feel the heat rolling off of him, I thought. And I’d be lying to say that his attraction was unrequited—I was at least a little attracted
“With all due respect, Crush, but you’ve already had enough of my life. You don’t need more of it,” I said coyly. I opened my car door and shot him a wink. “Besides, you’re not my type.”
“I can free you from this,” he said as I slid in.
The words hit my ears before the door closed. I put my hands on my steering wheel.I’m getting bribed from every direction, I sighed. And anytime that happens, the shithole of my life just gets deeper. But this feels different—Crush is different. Something about him just makes him seem…genuine. I put my key into the ignition and started the car. The cold AC hit me in a blast, and Crush stood outside patiently. After a beat, I rolled the window down.
“Why should I believe you?” I asked, staring straight ahead and not at him.
“Because I want the same thing you do,” he said plainly, crossing his arms on the windowsill of my door. “Freedom.”
I just stared at him. He was so close I could smell his minty breath, and his lips were within inches of mine. I was conflicted about whether or not I wanted Crush to kiss me at this moment. I licked my lips, and his eyes ravished the action. The sexual tension between us could be cut with a knife, and I wasn’t complaining or running from it. Even though the rational part of my brain told me to throw my car into gear and get the hell away.
“Gimme your phone,” he said after a beat of silence. I complied, my whole being piqued at this mystery that Crush was proposing.Does he know a way I could get out? And faster than King’s deal?He punched in some numbers and let it ring. It connected to a voicemail box that wasn’t set up, and he handed it back to me. “That’s my number. If you want it, call me. King can’t track it.”
And without another word, Crush turned on his heel and walked back to the warehouse. I couldn’t help but stare after him. His legs were powerful, and his broad shoulders rippled as he moved. Not to mention, his ass wasn’t bad either. There was a commotion on the street behind me, breaking me out of my trance.
I threw my car into gear and drove home.Freedom, I thought. And Crush wasn’t bad—at least in terms of being evil.But that doesn’t help the feeling in my gut.I couldn’t risk my heart getting broken or getting all wrapped up with Crush that I didn’t uphold my side of the deal with King.
The whole way home, I was debating the pros and cons. Whatever it was Crush wanted, it seemed like a faster way than King’s additional little boost he was assigning me. However, Crush’s version could get us both killed if King ever found out. And the little addendum King had made to the deal made it clear to me that he was getting close to figuring it all out.
