My mouth crashed onto hers, hard. The instant she melted into me, all reason dissolved. My tongue slipped past her lips, tasting her and savoring the soft moan she released as her hands came up to clutch at my shoulders. My cock was a steel rod pressing against her thigh, demanding release. It took every bit of self-control I had left not to haul her onto the counter, strip her naked, and fuck her until she was screaming my name. But I had shit to do, and she wasn’t ready for what came with giving herself to me completely.
Reluctantly, I pulled away, leaving her panting, her eyes glazed with lust. I traced my thumb along her swollen lips, fighting the urge to dive back in.
“One of my brothers brought your car here last night, but I want you to stay put,” I ordered roughly, my voice thick with desire. “Eat your breakfast, rest. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She nodded, her eyes wide and trusting, making my chest tighten as warmth spread through me. I gave her another quick kiss before releasing her and jogging back to my bedroom. I grabbed a clean shirt and slipped it over my head, slipped on my cut, then pulled on socks and boots. With one last, “Be good, baby,” I stalked into the garage and climbed onto my hog.
I drove fast to the clubhouse, my tires eating up the short distance between my home and the compound. Like always, the rumble of my bike’s engine, the wind slapping against my body, and the world around me fading into a blur cleared my thoughts. It was one of the only places where I felt truly settled and at ease.
By the time I parked and strode into the clinic, my mind was already locked on the task ahead. I strode purposely to the back door attached to the side of the clubhouse, next to the garage.
Kane had added the medical suite before he’d even talked me into prospecting with the Redline Kings—the cocky bastard somehow knew he’d convince me.
I pulled open the exterior door and walked into the reception area complete with padded chairs and a desk. It looked similar to any hospital waiting room, which might have seemed odd to outsiders considering we used this clinic strictly for private treatment. We wanted our shit kept outside the hospital system to avoid red tape, as well as government oversight since they were obligated to report certain types of injuries—like gunshot wounds.
But there were instances when family or extremely close friends were allowed to wait at the clinic if someone had a veryserious injury. Especially if I needed to be in the fully equipped operating room with them for hours.
Then there were the times when the room was filled with brothers and old ladies as they waited for another MC prince or princess to be born. Not all the old ladies chose to have their babies here, but it happened often enough these days.
I stopped into my office, which sat directly across from the door that led straight into the clubhouse, and dropped my keys and wallet into a drawer of my desk. Then I shrugged off my cut and replaced it with a white lab coat before heading to one of the two exam rooms.
Von, a twenty-something kid who was on track to be a champion racer for one of Kane’s teams, was laid out on the exam table, bloodied up from the crash. I washed up, then got straight to work, cleaning the wound and stitching him, my hands quick and steady, and my mind fully in doctor mode. Medicine was one of the places where everything made sense, and I stood on solid ground. I was meticulous in managing every detail, controlling every aspect, and ensuring nothing went sideways.
This wasn’t born from insecurity—it was forged from experience. Early in my career, I'd lost a patient when a situation unraveled around me despite every skill and effort I poured into saving them. It wasn't my fault, but that didn't matter to me. After that, I stopped accepting that there were variables I couldn’t handle. If I couldn’t fix something directly, I expanded my reach until the outcome was no longer uncertain. It wasn’t like I believed I’d be able to save everyone, but when it happened, it wouldn't be because of ambiguity and chaos.
When I was finished, I gave the kid strict aftercare instructions, then retreated to my office to do the paperwork. I kept my own medical records for the club and teams, but I alsoneeded to send Kane a summary so he knew how to manage his racer’s next steps with the team.
Once that task was completed, I decided to drop by Jax’s office. After my conversation with Flint, I knew it was time to fill him in so he could factor this new information into his digging.
The door was open, so I just rapped my knuckles once on the jamb before entering.
Jax sat behind his bank of monitors, his eyes locked on a screen filled with scrolling data, a ball cap turned backward on his blond head. He looked up, his glasses glinting in the light of the screens. “I was planning to call you this afternoon.”
I folded my arms, leaning against the wall. “Find something?”
“Several somethings,” he replied. “They don’t add up.”
“I doubt it will make any more sense once I tell you why I asked you to look into Hadley.”
Jax spun slowly away from his monitors to face me, his brows lifting. I could practically see the wheels turning behind his black-rimmed glasses.
“When I gave you Hadley’s description, I left out some details about the scar on her temple.”
“Okay,” he murmured, watching me steadily.
“Was pretty sure there was something wrong about it, but I didn’t have anything but gut instinct to go on. I wasn’t gonna waste your time if it turned out I was completely off base.”
“Makes sense,” he agreed. “But now you’ve got more?”
I quickly filled him in on everything I’d noticed and the suspicions I had, then told him about my conversation with Flint. “She’s definitely been lied to about when the injury happened. If you could even call it that, since it was a removal, not a repair.”
He nodded. “That actually lines up with some things I’ve been seeing.”
My jaw tightened. “Go on.”
Jax spun his chair a few inches, one arm bracing against the desk as he pulled up another set of files. “Her records are clean…too clean. In a ‘someone made damn sure there wasn’t anything there’ way. And it gets weirder the deeper I go.”
He tapped the screen, bringing something up. “Starting with her birth records. There’s some questionable timing on the filing—nothing that screams illegal on the surface, but it’s off just enough to catch my attention. Like it was processed through a couple of extra hands before it landed where it was supposed to. But what I found particularly interesting was that it was backdated.”
