The knot in my stomach twisted.
“Are you thinking of leaving the Club?” I forced out.
“Absolutely not.”
Well thank God for that.
“Okay, then, why?” I queried. “Why are you questioning your commitment to the men?”
He shook his head and looked at the pillow beside mine. “Thought I could, couldn’t.”
“Couldn’t what?”
He looked back at me. “Do not wanna drag you over old ground when shit is good, babe, but not one of them took my back when it went down and they found out about you and me. They made their calls, they patched things over, but I didn’t forget it, and I find they want more of me, I’m thinkin’ they gotta prove respect before I give it back.”
I beat back the urge to lick my lip before I asked, “Do you have issues with Dad?”
He shook his head. “Fuck no.”
At least that was firm.
Shy kept talking. “He had his reason and it was a good one. Them, parts of it I see, parts of it I don’t. Not one of them spoke up for me. That went down, I wasn’t a recruit. It wasn’t like I’d been in the Club two years, three, but near on a decade. They knew me and no one spoke for me?”
He shook his head but went on.
“Gotta say, your dad feelin’ that for me, thinkin’ I got what it takes to handle shit for the Club in his stead when he calls on me, speakin’ for him, the Club when they need me, that’s tight. I like it. That’s a tribute I didn’t expect, not at my age. I know the history with him and High. High seriously butted up against him when Tack was tryin’ to clean up the Club. Luckily, that shit got sorted but I know Tack didn’t forget, so I know why he doesn’t go there when High’s got more time in with the Club than me. I know Hound can go off on one, doesn’t have the disposition for diplomacy. Still, he could stick with Hop, have only one man he calls on and he called me up. I like that. But I’m thinkin’ I need more time with the brothers, I need it to feel solid again before I give more back.”
“Okay, then take your time,” I agreed and his head gave a slight jerk.
“Say again?”
“I feel you,” I told him. “It’s not like you’re being a dick. You’re being real. You’re right, that was uncool. Hop spoke for you when you came forward to recruit. He’s also totally nailing Lanie, still, and, by the way, Dad saw them going at it by the garage, so that cat’s gonna be out of the bag soon. So he knows the shoes you were standing in. Roscoe and Tug did their time at your side, not one of those three put words forward for you when they all should, Hop especially. If you need to feel more solid, do it. Take your time. If Dad chooses another lieutenant, High isn’t trustworthy, Hound is possibly clinically insane, Dad may soon be looking to fill those motorcycle boots and Chaos will feel it if those men don’t represent their brothers well. When it’s your time again, they’ll be ready for you, but you need to be ready to give it to them.”
He studied me a beat before asking softly, “You’re not ticked I’m turnin’ down your dad?”
“It’s your time, your life, your standing with your brothers, honey. Your decision. My job is to stand by it, not get ticked about it.”
He studied me for five beats before he whispered, “Fuck, but I love you, Tabby.”
I grinned. “Good, darlin’. That works for me since I love you too.”
Shy did not grin. His thumb moved out to stroke my jaw as his eyes burned into mine.
I lifted a hand, curled it around his wrist, let him have his moment, and enjoyed the warmth he was giving me.
Then he was done with his moment, his brows went up, and he asked, “Tack saw Hopper and Lanie?”
I smiled and answered, “Yep.”
“Brace, baby,” he muttered.
“I guessed that,” I told him.
“No,
brace
. Cherry knows about Hop and BeeBee. Apparently, Cherry actually saw them doin’ the deed, which is somethin’ I do not wanna picture.”
I curled my lip in disgust because it was something I didn’t want to picture either.
Shy continued, “Cherry doesn’t know Hop and Mitzi were on a break, but I don’t think she’d care. Hop had a chat with her and she and him have moved past that, but that doesn’t mean she’s gonna be big on him bangin’ her best friend, who happens to be the woman who took bullets for her dead old man.”
Well, that might explain why they were keeping things under wraps.
Shy kept going, “Until tonight, Hop has managed to keep this from Tack and Cherry, but most of the boys know, they’re talkin’, and they’re bettin’. The odds are with Cherry losin’ her mind not only with Hop, but with Lanie for makin’ what she thinks is another poor choice.”
My head tipped on the pillow. “Did you place a bet?”
“Fuck no. Lanie is beautiful but she’s a fuckin’ nut. There’s no guarantees with her in the mix, and Hop’s not sayin’ it, but he’s gone for her. I caught sight of them late one night standin’ by his bike and I can’t say I’m an expert at readin’ bitches but, body language, she’s gone for him too. Cherry or Tack get in his face, Cherry butts up against Lanie, there’s gonna be fireworks.”
“Well, we’re old hands at that,” I muttered, and Shy grinned.
“Bet it’s more fun observing,” he muttered back.
I was not going to take that bet because I knew he was right.
“He’s gone for her?” I asked quietly.
“Had a dad who loved his wife. See what Tack has with Cherry. Dog and Sheila. Feel what I have with you. When they’re together and not yellin’ at each other, that’s what I see.”
I felt my chest get warm.
There it was, maybe they didn’t need my invisible vibes. If Hop was “gone” for Lanie, he’d do right by her.
Or at least I hoped so.
“I like that for Lanie,” I told Shy.
“And I like it for Hop, baby. Mitzi was a bitch. Lanie’ll keep him on his toes, but if they have those tender times, it’s worth it.”
It
so
was.
“Yeah,” I whispered.
“Yeah,” he quietly repeated after me.
I slid my hand down his back. “So, if we’re done talking, are you gonna tell me what you thought of me doing while you were lyin’ in this bed?”
His face got dark as it got closer.
“Definitely.”
I tightened my arm around him, using it to press my body up into his, and I whispered, “How about you show me what you did while you tell me?”
His eyes flared, his mouth moved to mine, and he replied, “My girl wants it like that, that’s what she’ll get.”
Awesome. I not only wanted it like that, I… couldn’t…
wait
.
“Though, sugar, I’m ready for you to climb on, you swing astride me. I’m finishing in you,” he ordered.
I grinned against his mouth.
I could do that.
Four days later…
I was at the nurse’s station reaching for a chart when I heard, “Ms. Allen, may I have a moment to speak with you?”
I knew that voice. My back went straight, I turned to look up and my mouth dropped open.
Dr. Dickhead was standing there, eyes to my shoulder, his face messed way the heck up. We were talking
massive
. Both eyes black, blue, and very swollen, a bandage on the bridge of his engorged, reddened nose, fat lip with three angry cuts and yellowish bruising around both of his cheekbones.
Oh God.
“I, um… of course,” I said quietly, my gaze skimming through my colleague, Peggy, who was sitting behind the desk at the nurse’s station and who also was staring at Dr. Dickhead with an expression on her face that I was certain mirrored mine.
I turned back to Dr. Dickhead to see him extending an arm for me to precede him. I moved, he shifted to let me by, and I noticed that he was holding his body very carefully.
Shy had fucked him up.
Shy had totally fucked him up!
Oh God.
My mind blanked of everything but walking as he guided me to an empty patient’s room. I walked into the room and he followed, closing the door behind him.
Eyes to my shoulder, he launched in, “I want you to know I apologize for my behavior. I’ve had some problems at home, I took them out on you, and that’s inappropriate. From now on, I’ll be more mindful of how I treat you and, erm… all the nurses, and be certain to show you more respect.”
Yep, Shy so totally fucked him up.
“I, uh… okay,” I whispered.
His eyes slid to mine then quickly moved away and he asked, “Is that acceptable to you?”
“Um… yes, uh… that would be great.”
“Excellent,” he muttered. “I appreciate your time.”
“Well, uh…” God! What did I say? “Thanks for that.”
Lame!
He extended his chin, winced, hid the wince, turned while holding his body stiffly and opened the door.
It swung closed behind him and I stood there staring at it.
I didn’t know what to do about this, and I didn’t know what to feel about it. I just knew, at that very moment, it felt weird and not in a good way. I also knew I had three hours to the end of my shift and I couldn’t do anything about it until then.
When I hit the nurse’s station, Peggy was still there, her eyes still wide, she leaned in and asked, “What was
that
about?”
“Uh, something about a patient. No biggie,” I lied.
She looked down the hall, obviously where she’d last seen Dr. Dickhead and asked, “Do you have any clue how he got that messed up?”
Oh yeah, I did. I totally did.
“He didn’t share that,” I told her. Fortunately it was the truth (in a way) and she looked back at me and grinned.
She was loving this. Yes, that was how big a douchebag he was.
“I bet he didn’t,” she muttered.
I pulled up enough professionalism to move on with my day and it was only when I was walking to my car that I took my phone out, my thumb moving on the screen, automatically calling Shy.
I put it to my ear and within a ring, I heard Shy’s, “Sugar.”
“Where are you?”
He didn’t answer immediately and when he did, his tone was quiet.
He’d read me.
“Where do you want me to be?”
I stopped at the door of my car, pointed my eyes to my shoes, and said, “That didn’t answer my question, Shy.”
“I’m at the Compound, havin’ a drink with the brothers.”
Okay, not home. That was good.
Maybe I could get my thoughts sorted before he got home.
“Tab?” he called when I said nothing.
“I’m here.”
“You okay?”
No, I wasn’t. I just didn’t know what I was.
“Sure,” I lied.
“Tabby—” he started.
“Listen, uh… it’s been a hectic day. I’m standing outside my car. I just wanna get home. I’ll see you when I see you, yeah?”
“Tabby—” he began again, but I cut him off.
“Later, Shy.”
I ended the call, got in my car, started her up, and ignored the two times my phone rang on the way home.
I was in jeans, a long-sleeved Harley tee, bare feet, had my hair up in a sloppy ponytail and my head in the fridge to get a much-needed beer (though, I was thinking more along the tequila lines) when Shy got home.
I twisted from the fridge to look at him and saw his face was serious, his eyes intense and they were on me.
I closed the door to the fridge coming out with my beer, taking two steps away from the fridge and deeper into the kitchen, I asked, “You want one?”
He walked into the kitchen, stopped and his eyes moved over my face.
Then he said quietly, “No. I want you to talk to me.”
“Shy—”
It was his turn to cut me off.
“Tab, heard it in your voice, see it all over your face. Somethin’s up and I figure I know what that somethin’ is. Now, talk to me. Why are you lookin’ at me like you’re lookin’ at me right now?”
Okay, suffice it to say I hadn’t got my head sorted before he got home.
It would have been nice to have the chance to do that, but with the way Shy was looking at me, I knew I wasn’t going to get that chance.
So I whispered, “You beat up Dr. Dickhead.”
“Yeah,” he copped to it immediately.
I blinked.
Shy shook his head then spoke. “Babe, we may not be an old married couple but we got a lot of time in and, just pointin’ out, at first, I was into you so I paid attention. Then I was fallin’ in love with you so I paid more attention. Then I was in love with you, so I figure you get where it went from there. What I’m sayin is, I know you. I know you were keepin’ shit from me. I also know why. And last, I know that motherfucker was fuckin’ with your life and it was bad, because I sensed your mood and it was deteriorating. After the hog roast, Lan had a word with me and what he said sealed it, so I did what I’d been thinkin’ of doin’ for a while. Somethin’, I’ll add, that needed to be done.”
That was debatable, but I decided it best at that juncture not to debate it.
“You didn’t talk to me about it,” I told him.
“No, I didn’t,” he told me. “But I told you flat out what I’d do to that asshole if he didn’t leave you alone.”
“You didn’t even tell me after you’d done it,” I kept fighting my corner.
“No, I didn’t,” he repeated, and again said no more.
Crap.
“I’m not sure how I feel about that, Shy. This affects me, my work—”
Shy interrupted me, “He apologize?”
I was losing it, therefore my voice rose when I answered, “Yes, but that’s not the point.”
Shy crossed his arms on his chest and his voice went low when he replied, “Oh yeah, it is.”
“Shy—”
“This is not a surprise to you, Tabby,” he stated low. “It’s not a surprise but it’s a shock, and I know on the face of it that doesn’t make sense, but I also know you get me.”
I stared at him and kept my distance.
Shy didn’t miss much and he didn’t miss this. We were the kind of couple that got close. Even shuffling around the kitchen, we touched, brushed mouths, stood near when we were both doing something at the counter.
So he didn’t miss the unusual distance I was putting between us. He also didn’t approach.
What he did was order, “You take time to come to terms with this. You need me to help you, I’m there. Now, I’m gonna give you time alone to sort your head out. Not much, we’re sleepin’ together, we’re wakin’ up together, so now you got a sense of how much time you got. Use it wisely, honey. This is me, you knew that was what you were gonna get, you can’t expect me not to be me and I’m not gonna lose you over somethin’ as meaningless as that douchebag.”