Page 7 of Crusher

I slip on my jeans as yet another nurse walks into the room, her face lit up with a smile. Even in scrubs, she’s completely put together with not a hair out of place, freshly applied makeup, and the strong scent of vanilla trailing behind her. I’m curious if she always appears this way, or if she’s done herself up just for me.

She scans the room, then settles her gaze on me. “Are you leaving today?” Disappointment is evident in her tone, even though she tries to sound cheery.

You bet your sweet ass I’m blowing this joint.

“Time for me to go, honey. I’m sure you girls are sick of me anyway.” I shoot her a wink as I button my pants.

“Not at all. We just want to make sure you’re all better before you head out. Especially if there’s no one at home to take care of you?” A soft blush rises on her cheeks as she fishes for information. “Is there anything I can help you with?” Katie—according to her ID badge—brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear while attempting to look coy.

“No, I’m fine. Thanks, though,” I reply as I tug my black t-shirt over my head. Her shoulders dip slightly and she turns on her heel to go. But I stop her before she leaves. “Wait. I do need help with something.”

She spins around, hope sparking in her eyes. “Yes?”

“Nurse Sadie. Sadie Michaels? Is she working today?”

Katie frowns and pinches her lips together. “Are you a friend of hers?”

“Yep. We go way back.” I’m lying, but this girl won’t know that.

She stares at me for a moment longer before answering with a sneer, “She’s not here.”

Ignoring her contempt, I press, “She left early, or she didn’t work today?” My question hangs in the air as I hope she gives me the info I need.

“No,” Katie responds curtly before leaving without another word.

Ouch. Guess she doesn’t like me asking about another woman.

I’m reaching for my cut when Gamble saunters in dressed in head-to-toe black with his sleeve tats on full display. From the hallway, I see a few women glance inside my room, their eyes taking in my brother, who knows damn well the ladies find his ass attractive. He’s known for breaking a few hearts, and never without company. There’s always some girl throwing her panties at the guy, and he’s not known to turn 'em down. He glances behind him, giving the ladies a little wave, and I watch as they scurry away while giggling like schoolgirls.

“You done flirtin’, asshole?” I give him a hard time just because I can.

“Well, I see Venom’s right. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Don’t be jealous because you don’t have a bunch of hot young women nursing you back to health. Besides, it’s not the first time I’ve crashed my bike. Now, tell me what’s going on with the club.”

Gamble sits on the chair beside my hospital bed. “Since you asked so nicely…” He props his boot-covered feet up on the corner of the mattress, earning himself a glare, which he ignores. “Some suits have made an appearance at the strip club and the construction site telling us we’re behind on our taxes. Matter of fact, the fuckers have shown up to all our locations, even the clubhouse.” He growls with irritation.

“Taxes? What the fuck are they talking about?” I snap.

We earn a shitload of money doing the dirt we do, but we make damn sure to keep our businesses clean, knowing that’s how we launder our cash. If anyone finds anything, then it can only mean someone is making shit up. Someone who wants to cause fucking trouble. My money is on either Mayor Prescott, that useless motherfucker, or the Hell’s Outlaws. We let those bastards off easy, if you ask me. Should’ve killed them all while we had the chance.

“You know what I know, man.” Gamble runs a hand through his light-brown hair, his brows knitted and his expression tense. “Sienna’s doing what she can right now, but we all know it’s bullshit.”

I nod at this. It’s been a couple of months since Sienna became the unofficial lawyer for the Disciples, after her run-in with Tony Bertelli. She’s Throttle’s ol’ lady and an important part of this family. With her track record, I have no doubt she’ll get to the bottom of this. Our priority is to stay off the radar and keep people out of our business. The less attention we draw, the better. Especially with that dipshit mayor champing at the bit to cause problems for us. I wouldn’t put it past that motherfucker to be behind this shit.

I scratch my beard as I think out loud. “What about Maverick? Can he get some intel?”

“Yeah, he’s working on it with Sienna. You know those two are like dogs with bones. They won’t let up until they get what they’re looking for.”

Ain’t that the fucking truth.

Maverick is the club hacker. Ain’t no hiding shit from that brother. If there’s anything you want to find, he’ll track it down. He may be a man of few words, but he’s fucking ruthless when he sets his mind to something.

“Think this has anything to do with the assholes who came after me?” I quirk a brow.

“Sentinel and Venom seem to think so, which is why this is Maverick’s top priority. Too many unusual events happening at the same time. And they all started after Prescott took office.”

My brothers and I have faced enemies many times before, but this feels different. It seems bigger with higher stakes, like there’s more at play than what we can see on the surface. And the cops have been up our asses at every turn. Doing plate checks and pulling us over for stupid shit. Showing up at the Emerald and running off patrons. Something’s not adding up and I feel a shitstorm coming. An even bigger one than what we had with the Outlaws.

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