Page 3 of Taken By the Biker Daddies

“Yeah.”

“I’m on my way.”

I found Max in the hospital lobby. Even without his black leather jacket, he was easy to spot because of his height, his shoulders towering over everyone else’s even though he was slouching. Besides, he had a certain presence. Even now, there were at least three women stealing glances in his direction, including one nearly as old as Billie.

To women, he was a magnet, which was both a gift and a curse. To the other members of Black Storm, he was an enigma who didn’t fit in, yet somehow belonged. To me, he was a reminder of the lost young man I once was, who I hoped would one day find his own way.

No, I knew he would.

As soon as he saw me, his eyes flickered with recognition and relief. He started walking toward me, a faint smile on his lips.

“Thanks for coming.”

On the outside, he looked fine, but I knew he was troubled. I pulled him aside and placed a hand on his shoulder. “So, tell me what happened.”

He drew a deep breath. “I hit someone.”

My eyebrows arched. “In a fight?”

It wouldn’t be the first time.

“On the road. It was raining. The road was slippery. It was a curve. This woman just jumped out and froze. I tried to stop in time, but I guess I still hit her.”

I gripped my chin. “How bad?”

“She lost consciousness. I called an ambulance. They took her for some tests.”

“Have you talked to the cops?”

Max shook his head. “I panicked, so I told 9-1-1 my girlfriend and I had an accident on the road. I hit a tree. She got thrown off. I’ll take care of everything.”

I wasn’t so sure I approved of the cover-up. I always told the guys that even though I’d cover for their asses, they had to take responsibility for their actions. But this was Max. I knew he would make things right.

I shrugged. “It seems you’ve got everything covered, then.”

“Yeah. But I’m still glad you’re here.”

I knew the feeling. Even grown men who could take care of themselves could use some company when they were in a pickle. It was why most of the members of Black Storm joined, apart from their mutual love of bikes.

I squeezed Max’s shoulder. “Anytime.”

“Mr. Smith?” A woman in a white coat and glasses approached us.

Max turned to her. “Yes?”

“I’m Dr. Mathers. You’re Lauren Andrews’ boyfriend?”

Max nodded. “Yes. How is she? Is she awake?”

“I would actually like to speak with her parents. Have you contacted them?”

Max shook his head. “They’re no longer around.”

“Oh.” Dr. Mathers’ eyebrows went up, then she paused. “What about siblings?”

Again, Max shook his head. “I’m afraid I’m all she has.”

“Hm.” Dr. Mathers frowned.

---