Fear rushes through me so fast it takes my knees out. Vincent catches me before I hit the floor, cradling me in his arms and moving back to the chair where I’d been sitting earlier. He sits, still holding me, and stares at Hyram.
“Then she’s coming back to the clubhouse with us,” he says firmly.
“Of course,” Hyram agrees. Thyrie nods as if it’s a foregone conclusion.
“Um, guys? She’s right here and probably should have a say in what happens to her,” I say because, afraid or not, I can’t just let these strangers take control of my life.
“You’re the only witness to what those fucks did to our brother. And I can assure you, they won’t forget you saw them, either. You’re not safe. If you have a boyfriend or husband or something, he’s welcome to come to the clubhouse, too. At least, until we can take care of the problem.”
Vincent’s body gets more and more tense with every word Hyram speaks after ‘boyfriend’. I get the sense that if I had one, Vincent would absolutely not welcome him to their clubhouse.
Still, the three of them are strangers. If I go with them to their clubhouse, there’s nothing to say they won’t be as dangerous as the two they claim they’ll protect me from. It’snot as if I have anyone in town who would look for me if I disappeared. Obviously, the cops don’t care much about the MC or the people in their orbit.
“I’ll only agree if my dog likes you. He’s the best judge of character I know. If Fenny doesn’t hate you, then I’ll agree. But he comes, too.” That’s nonnegotiable. Fenrir, Fenny, was a gift from my aunt when I graduated from high school four years ago. Aside from my clothes and my art supplies, he’s pretty much all I brought with me when I moved here.
“You can bring the dog. Let’s go get him and whatever stuff you need for a week or two before Malachi fully wakes up from the anesthesia. The dog can go with Thyrie and Hyram to the clubhouse while you and I come back here. If Malachi wakes up again and doesn’t see you, it’ll be bad.” Vincent shakes his head as he finishes the plan, clearly rueful about the way his brother has latched on to me.
“As long as Fenny’s okay with it, so we’ll see.” It’s the best I can promise. My giant boy is a Boerboel, an enormous breed my aunt and her husband are obsessed with, and he weighs as much as I do. If he decides we’re not going with them, it’s not as if we’d be able to crate him and bring him along under protest.
“Guess I better make sure he likes me,” Vincent says with a wink. Thyrie snorts and throws an elbow at her man jokingly.
“A dog in the clubhouse? Does that mean I can have one next?” She bats her eyelashes and makes kissy lips at him. He looks poleaxed, and it’s adorable how obvious his adoration is. I’ve never had a man look at me like that, and my fingers twitch with the urge to draw the two of them.
“I can already tell you’re gonna be a handful. I love it.” Vincent squeezes me affectionately, the move a surprise considering how intimidating he looks, even wearing a fancy doctor’s coat that should make him look boring and staid.
“We’ll see,” I warn again before a jaw-cracking yawn catches me by surprise. My adrenaline spike is waning, and exhaustion is setting in. Though I know there’s still a ton of stuff up in the air, I can’t deny I’m less afraid of what will happen since I know Vincent and his club will look out for me.
Chapter
Seven
Charm
Ethics battle with loyalty seeing the picture Tegan drew while her second yawn in as many minutes triggers one of my own. As a physician, I have an ethical obligation not to reveal information about anyone I’ve given medical care to. As Malachi’s brother and a member of Ghost Born, I have a duty to protect and defend the club. Even more than that, now I have Tegan in my universe, and the compulsion to ensure her safety top everything. Hyram lifts an eyebrow at me, and it occurs to me he’s never seen me behave like this with a woman; so immediately ass over teakettle. I’m no monk, but I also am not the guy to make a big production over hookups. That’s not what this will be though, and Hyram needs to catch that clue real quick.
Listening to my gut has saved me plenty of times, but it’s also saved the lives of service members I was deployed with and patients I see in the hospital now. So when my instincts urged me to pull Tegan into my lap, I know to listen.
Likewise, intuition tells me the conflict between my ethical duty to maintain patient privacy and my loyalty to identify theman who hurt Malachi isn’t necessary. The guy’s been through this ER at least a half dozen times, script shopping by trying to get the on-call physicians to slip up and write prescriptions for controlled substances.
He’s a low-level drug dealer with addiction issues of his own. I’d bet money if any of my club brothers or Thyrie hangs around long enough, they’ll spot him on their own. Shit, I’m pretty certain if they wait around the ER long enough for Malachi to get out of recovery and be ready to transfer into a room for the night, they’ll see the guy pass through. Especially if what Tegan said is true and she got him with bear spray. Ethically, I can’t tell anyone any of this, but Hyram and Thyrie are clearly picking up what I’m putting down.
“So we have a plan then? I’ll take Tegan to grab some stuff to stay at the clubhouse for a while and her dog. You two will stay here to keep Malachi safe while we’re gone. We’ll be back in a few hours after I get a little shut eye and get Tegan settled in.” I outline the plan to my prez, changing my original plans to send them a bit to account for Tegan’s fatigue and the dog.
I hadn’t noticed it right away, too focused on everything else. But after that yawn and the exhausted way she curled up in my lap, I realized she needs rest. More than likely, Malachi’s anesthesia nap and time in recovery will be be several hours. I can have us back here before he wakes completely.
“This is your domain. If you’re sure he won’t wake up for real and lose his shit before you get back, I trust your expertise,” Hyram says.
The good thing about having a reasonable prez is that he knows when to flex the muscle of his position and when to listen. I can trust he and Thyrie will keep watch while I’m gone, and if worse comes to worst, they’ve both seen how things are when Malachi’s TBI causes him to panic or overreact.
“Come on, Tegan. Let’s go introduce me to that dog of yours, then it’s nap time for both of us.” I urge her to stand, hands steadying her hips when she sways in place from exhaustion.
“’Kay,” she mumbles, nearly asleep on her feet.
I guide her to my truck, parked in the space reserved for me in my role as head of the emergency department, and boost her into the passenger seat. Her hands fumble with the buckle and she lets me brush them away to fasten her in myself. This tired, she’s almost too adorable to cope with. It also makes me wonder how she expects to introduce me to her dog, much less grab a change of clothes for herself, when she can barely fasten her own seatbelt.
“Alright, sweet girl. Where am I going?” I ask, glancing at her in the passenger seat. She’s already almost asleep, but she manages to slur her address just clear enough for me to make out, and I plug it into my GPS and let her doze off as I make the trip out to her house.
Tegan lives in a cozy brick bungalow-style home usually seen in beach towns. The neighborhood she resides in is quiet with manicured lawns and backyards divided by privacy fences. Her nametag shows she works at an art store, so I’m not entirely sure how she affords living in a nice neighborhood like this on that income, but maybe, she has family looking out for her.
