Letting Her Lead (Ghost Riders MC #3)(2)
“I’m not going to a hospital.” She pushes the man, and I see the bloodstain spread on her jeans.
“Stop that! You’re making it worse. You need medical attention. Stitches at the least. That much is clear,” I exclaim, unable to help myself.
“You a doctor or some shit?” the scarred man gripping my arm asks, looking down at me.
“No. Veterinarian.”
“Good enough. Get Cas in the truck and clean that blood off the floor.”
The man next to Cas picks her up and heads out the front door while she mumbles about some Vincent guy. Why hasn’t the alarm gone off? The skinny guy picks up the gun I dropped and cleans up the blood on the floor with his shirt.
“You got a medical kit?”
I nod my head.
“Good. Get it. If you try something…” He doesn’t have to say what will happen if I try something. I get the message loud and clear. I won’t be trying anything.
He finally lets me go, and I run to the front door and pick up the medical bag I keep for emergency calls.
“Make sure everything is cleaned up. I don’t know if anyone heard that shot,” Scarred Guy barks.
“Got it, Savage. See you at the compound.”
Savage grabs me by the arm once again and pulls me outside. As the cold air hits my legs, I realize I have nothing on but a shirt that barely hits mid-thigh, underwear, and socks.
I start to protest, but he pushes me into a truck. Cas is lying on the back seat, and the man who carried her out sits behind the wheel. Savage, whose every inch embodies his name, slams the door and informs me of my fate.
“She dies, you die.”
2
Lucias
“Come on, Ham. Time for bed.”
I haven’t even gotten out of my chair in my office yet because I know it’s going to take Ham, my English bulldog, about twenty minutes to get up. I named him after the kid in The Sandlot, and it is a fitting name. I thought having a club mascot was a good idea, and I thought having a dog around for security would be even better. Little did I know I got the laziest dog on the planet. He sleeps forty hours a day and doesn’t so much as lift his head if he hears a gunshot. The only time I’ve ever seen him have a skip to his step is when I take him to the vet. Dumb dog actually gets excited when I take him in. Can’t really blame him, though, I get pretty damn excited when I see her, too. She was part of the reason I got Ham.
The first time I laid eyes on her, I was in the supermarket. I had to go in and pick up some stuff for the club, and there she was in the cereal aisle holding a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.
She looked like a sweet little thing with her dark-brown hair up in a messy bun and her big glasses sliding down the end of her nose. She was wearing a baggy sweatshirt with an image of Ms. Pac-Man on the front, a pair of leggings with kittens on them, and purple Vans with no socks. I remember the no socks because there was this little gold chain around her ankle, and I remember wanting to put her foot over my shoulder and lick it as I f*cked into her. Goddamn, was her body sweet. Tiny little thing with some thick thighs and a big ass. I loved that she was thick. I’ve always liked big girls, and she was making me have crazy fantasies with one quick look.
When I took a step to approach her, I noticed an older lady walk up to her and call her by name. “Doctor Izzy! I’ve been trying to call the clinic all week. My ragdoll cat, Princess, has had an upset tummy for three days. I have to get her in to see you.”
“Izzy.” I whispered her name, feeling it roll off my lips. I watched as she walked with the old lady out of the store and out of my life. But I knew where to find her. There is only one vet in town, and I could talk to her there. The only problem was, I didn’t have an animal.
I had our MC hacker, Knox aka Scribe, help me find a dog, but I didn’t explain why. I think he suspected something, but he never let on. When we went to pick the dog up from the shelter, he was a wrinkly little puppy, but I had to admit he was pretty damn cute. He looked chubby and slept damn near every hour of the day, so the name Ham stuck.
Taking Ham into the vet the first time was like going on a blind date, only your date didn’t know you were coming. I walked into the vet’s office and did the paperwork for Ham, taking him over and having a seat. When we got called back to the little room, the vet assistant looked him over and told me the vet would be in soon. I waited, looking down at Ham sleeping on the floor the whole time without a care in the world. I’d worn my cut into the vet’s office because I thought it was better to put my cards on the table, but I wonder, looking back, if it was the right idea.
When Izzy walked in, her face lit up and she beamed, only it wasn’t at me. She was looking at Ham and immediately fell to her knees, scooping him up and cuddling him. I’ve never hated an animal so much in my life. She didn’t so much as give me a second glance.
She was all business with me, not even looking at me as she put Ham on the table and gave him his shots. She talked out loud, but never so much as made eye contact when I tried to ask questions. Izzy was more than thorough, and she answered what I asked, but she didn’t seem to even notice me with the puppy in the room.
Right before she left, she put Ham down and finally—finally—turned to look at me. He was bouncing all over the place, I swear, the most active he’s ever been. But I ignored him, looking at Izzy. Her dark-brown hair was still in a messy bun, and her brown eyes looked at me from behind her big glasses. She was wearing a doctor’s coat, but her T-shirt underneath had a picture of Yoda on it.