"I'll be back before morning."
She grabbed his hand before he could leave the side of the bed. "What happened? The parts shop isn't even open in the middle of the night, is it?"
"Club business." He kissed her again and walked out of the room.
She stayed in bed as the door shut on the other side of the house. Less than a minute later, the rumble of his motorcycle invaded the silence. She held her breath, listening for Skye—and then amazed that her niece wouldn't wake up with how loud the noise was.
Once she could no longer hear the Harley, she slipped out of bed and used the bathroom. Knowing she couldn't sleep right away, she crossed the hallway and took a shower.
The warm water had done its trick. She sat on the edge of the bed and yawned.
Maverick's duffle bag sat behind the bedroom door. He had a matching one that he kept by the front door and always tied onto his motorcycle whenever he went for a ride. Curious about what he had in the bag, she walked across the room and lowered herself to her knees.
She unzipped the bag. At first, clothes caught her attention. But then she noticed a large envelope. She took it out. Her stomach fluttered. She shouldn't look. Doing so was invading his privacy.
She exhaled loudly. They hadn't exactly started out worrying about each other's privacy.
They were married.
She bent the metal brad and opened the flap. Pulling out a stack of papers, she read Oregon State Penitentiary at the top of the letterhead. Her heart raced. She scanned the first page, expecting details about his alleged crime. Instead, it was medical records.
Rick Davis is diagnosed with idiopathic Muscle Tension Dysphonia. At this time, we're assuming the dx was caused by unspecified irritants. The patient claims he had exposure to unknown contaminants during a house explosion where somebody manufactured methamphetamines.
Tears fell. She scanned the rest of the sheet, unable to understand medical jargon. But she grasped enough to know that he would live the rest of his life with the condition, and it was painful, causing spasms in his throat that wouldn't relax.
She flipped through the rest of the papers. There was nothing new to learn.
Maverick had explained the best he could, but until reading his condition, she hadn't realized how serious it was for him.
She wanted to cry for the pain he lived with each day. And even though he was miserable, he gave so much joy to Skye. He gave Brooke so much attention, even though he was in pain.
His admiration for him rose.
She put the papers back in the envelope and then crawled into bed. Maybe if he went to a different doctor, they could help him. Now that she had a name for his diagnosis, perhaps she could find him help.
Chapter Thirty Four
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jagger slapped the piece of paper onto the table. "Get the asshole another order and charge him double. I'm not going to put up with his bullshit."
Having heard the loud voices, Brooke covered Skye's ears and glared at Maverick. He pointed behind her, twirling his finger. She guided Skye back through the door and stepped into the parts shop, letting go of Skye.
"Why can't we go with Maverick?" Skye sulked. "I wanted to see momma kitty."
"It sounds like they have adult problems going on and are using adult words," she muttered.
"I know some adult words."
"Yeah." She tweaked Skye's nose, knowing they probably came from her over the last five months. "But don't repeat them."
"Can we go to Whale's Tails?"
"Nope." She walked Skye to the front door of the parts shop. "It's closed on Thursdays."
"You can take her over to the pool." Bane walked out from behind the counter. "My ol' lady is over there. Her name's Daisy."
"I can swim." Skye pulled on Brooke's shirt. "Remember."
Skye had taken lessons through the school she'd attended back in Beaverton. Brooke had no idea how long Maverick would be in the clubhouse. He'd gotten called while they were in line for pickup at the school.