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“We’ll take care of them,” Ace says matter-of-factly. “Very well.”
“Of course.” The MC doesn’t hang people out to dry who do right by us, and the clinic isn’t just financially lucrative–it’s why Banger is still alive and more of the MC guys aren’t behind bars. “But I can’t do shit while I’m locked up.”
Ace slaps me on the back and flashes a smile. “You’re giving Nova and Maggie time to get the fuck out of town. He’d be killed before sundown in here. What you did, even though I didn’t fucking approve it, is giving us time to plan our next move.”
“I hear ya, brother. But I’d rather be out knocking skulls and breaking necks,” I grunt.
Noelle raises her hand and says, “Guys, I didn’t hear of this. I know nothing. Tommy, keep your nose clean and I’ll be back soon.”
I have no choice but to be patient, given my current predicament. Ace and Noelle leave, and then, too soon, I’m settled into the middle row of the sheriff’s van as it takes me to County Jail, where I’ll stay for the foreseeable future.
I distract myself, thinking of Sophie and those wicked curves. Who knew such a prim and proper chick would be such a hellcat in the sack? Goddamn, but she’s an unexpected surprise, one I’d like to get to know better.
However, as tantalizing as those memories are, I push them aside. I can’t get involved with thoughts of Sophie, not on the inside. That’s the kind of shit that gets a man killed.
After I get out of the van with five other criminals, I get processed, searched, and handed a jumpsuit, my paper-thin bed and pillow wrapped up in a green blanket. That’s enough to put Sophie and her sexy as fuck curves out of my head.
For good.
My life, for the foreseeable future, is about one thing and one fucking thing only.
Survival.
CHAPTERSEVEN
Sophie
Being back on the day shift is a godsend. My sleep schedule is finally back to normal, so I’m getting some decent shuteye. Well, mostly. My dreams still revolve around a certain tattooed biker but waking up sweaty and breathless beats staring at the ceiling all night, counting the minutes until morning—or evening—rolls around.
I wake up feeling fresh and energetic, taking my time to scoop my hair into a ponytail, slicking the perfect wingtip eyeliner to wear behind my glasses—blue to match my scrubs today—and walk into the clinic feeling like a whole new woman.
The only downside to working the day shift again is that I no longer get to spend my evenings with Tank. I mean, it’s a good sign, since it means Banger is out of the clinic and well on his way to a full recovery.
I’m happy for him and Willow, but I hope this means I’ll get some uninterrupted time with Tank. Go on a real date or two, catch a movie, and go out to a long romantic dinner where we both smile so much our cheeks hurt.
Maybe he’ll stay the night at my place. We can fall asleep together, exhausted and satisfied, his big arms wrapped around me with my face pressed against his chest. The soothing beat of his heart lulling me to sleep.
When I go to the breakroom, I pour myself a generous cup of black coffee, letting the hot liquid prepare me for the whirlwind shift ahead. Days at the clinic are always hectic, and I need to get my head in the game.
Hannah comes to a skidding stop in the break room, a wary expression on her face. Her almond-shaped eyes are wide and perfectly smudged with brown and beige eyeshadow, her rosebud lips parted into a shocked ‘O’. “Sophie,” she sighs. “There you are.”
“Here I am,” I tell her with a smile. At twenty-four, everything in the world seems like an emergency to Hannah.
“Have you heard about Tank?”
My brows crinkle. “Just walked in. Heard what?”
Hannah’s sleek brows dip, and her lips twist into a frown. “Tank got arrested.”
She continues talking, but her words become distant noise as the world around me shatters. Tank got arrested? “What? When?”
“Last night,” she answers matter-of-factly. “But I don’t know any details, not even why.”
“Then how do you know he was arrested?” This could all be some giant mistake, office gossip that gets everything backward.
“Willow called this morning to thank us for caring for Banger, and she told me.”
Shit.I sip the coffee that now tastes bitter and lukewarm, setting it aside because my appetite disappeared. Hannah’s stare is more than I can take right now. She suspects something is going on with Tank and me, but given her penchant for gossip, I don’t share it with her.
