Page 8 of Haze's Jewel

Chapter 4

Haze

Four Weeks Later

I’m pacing back and forth outside Anna’s room at the rehab center when Franny walks up to me. She’s wearing mint green scrubs and a stethoscope hanging around her neck.

“Hey, I thought you left,” she says lightly.

“I was going to, but I wanted to wait and find out what her doctor recommends in terms of discharge.”

Franny steps closer. “I heard he’s going to discharge her soon, maybe even today. Her labs are all fine, she eating and voiding regularly and ambulating successfully.”

I stop in front of her and ask, “Are you sure it’s not too soon?”

Franny is our sergeant-at-arms’ wife. Although she obviously can’t wear a property cut at work, my mind automatically puts one on her anyway. Today, she gives me an indulgent smile. “You’re a real worrywart for someone so young. You know that, right?”

Gesturing towards Anna’s room with one hand, I lower my voice to make sure we can’t be overheard. “I just want her to have professional care for as long as necessary, so she makes a good recovery.”

She brings one hand up to press against her chest. “I get that. I really do. The thing is, we can’t keep everyone until their most protective relative is comfortable taking them home. Not to put too fine a point on it, we honestly need that bed for a new admission.”

I rake my hand through my hair, frustrated by this latest turn of events. “I don’t know, Fran. It seems too soon.”

“Anna was in the hospital for twenty days and has been in this rehab unit for another four weeks. Forty-eight days a relatively long time, even given the extent of her injuries. She’s doing better than anyone anticipated. She’s been working tirelessly to get back on her feet. And you know she’s going stir-crazy sitting in that room all day.”

“Yeah, I know that. But being bored seems like the lesser of two evils, when compared to something bad happening to her if she’s released too early. They said four to six weeks of rehab.”

“Four to six weeks was the estimate, it all depends on how quickly the patient heals. Jesus, the hospital staff were not joking when they said you are a helicopter boyfriend. I know you’re not really her boyfriend and that was just to make sure someone advocated for her, but word on the grapevine is you spend your time flirting your ass off with her. Sounds like make-believe has turned into something else?”

She’s not wrong about the flirting, in the weeks she’s been in hospital I’ve really enjoyed Anna’s company, but there’s nothing between us. I avoid Fran’s question and instead say, “Alright, I’m hearing what you’re laying down. If she gets discharged, we’ll follow the plan.”

Fran looks a bit bewildered by my reluctance to take Anna home with me. “If you’re rethinking having her at your shop, I can ask Rider to make room for her at the clubhouse. You don’t have to keep taking all this responsibility onto yourself.”

I go ramrod straight, shocked that I’m giving her the impression I don’t want Anna at my place. In fact, it’s just the opposite. I’m becoming obsessed with this beautiful woman. Some small, dark part of my brain thinks that because I rescued her from certain death along the side of the road the day of our shootout with the Diggers MC, that makes her mine. Mine to protect, I correct my errant thoughts.

“I don’t mind having her at my shop,” I stammer.

“You have that whole little apartment in the back with two tiny bedrooms. I remember when you and your brother used to live there when you first started working at Tank’s tattoo parlor. Surely one small woman can fit in there?”

I can tell by the tone of her voice that she’s teasing me. “Yeah, she’ll fit quite nicely. The thing is, it’s a bit rough around the edges. We started the reno, but we’ve had so much on our plate with the Diggers, that it’s still not finished. I’ve been living there myself since Vapor got married, but I don’t mind the chaos.”

She flashes me another smile. “Us women aren’t as fragile as you think. It’s clean and tidy, that’s the main thing. So what if the walls need painting? Did you think about buying a new condo? Living in your tattoo parlor can’t provide a very good work-life balance for you.”

I shrug, Vapor and I used to share a condo, but when he was looking for a place for him and Trix, we sold it. Rather than find somewhere of my own, I figured I could live at the shop. We’d just renovated it and had sorted out the back area which used to be a storeroom-cum-crash pad, into a proper two-roomed small apartment. For a single guy like me it was perfect. Plus, it made the commute into work a breeze. “Yeah, maybe if I ever decide I want to settle down, but right now it does me fine.”

Fran gives me a knowing smile, though it’s more like a smirk, “You know what your club brothers always say about settling down, it comes when you least expect it.”

Standing there staring at her hopeful expression I don’t have the heart to tell her that I’m a free agent, I have no intention on settling down any time soon, the old ladies love to play matchmaker, but they can go and fix another brother’s life.

The occupational therapist sticks her head out the door and calls my name. I excuse myself and quickly join the conversation taking place in Anna’s room. Anna hits me with a bright, happy smile because she’s always thrilled to see me, I won’t lie, it’s mutual. I’ve gotten used to my daily visits with her since she was discharged from the hospital to the rehab facility.

The minute her doctor sets eyes on me, his lips press into a thin line. I already know the old buzzard doesn’t like the cut of my jib. At first, I wondered if it was because I was a biker, but Fran explained it was more my overbearing personality he objected to. I wasn’t too surprised to hear that, because he was one of the docs who wanted to put her in a medically induced coma.

I jerk my chin at him. “Morning, Doc. Did you want to talk to me?”

He replies sharply, “Not particularly, Mr. Ventimiglia. Unfortunately, you’re critical to my patient’s discharge planning, so I need to.”

I give him a withering look and shake my head. “Did anyone ever tell you that you have an amazing bedside manner?” I keep my voice as polite as possible but a little offhand, driving home the fact that I think he’s a deplorable prick.

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