Page 2 of Loving Her

“I’ve been trying, believe me.”

“Okay, honey. I’ll do it. Do you need anything else?”

“Well yeah, I kind of do. Could you come out to my place? I have a small …” I stop talking as I look over the shoulder at the behemoth biker in my floorboard. “Make that one verylargeproblem that I need your help with.”

“What is it?”

“One of the guys is still alive, and he’s in the back of my car. I got him in here, but I don’t think I’m strong enough to get him in my house. I can’t take him to the hospital because …” I let my explanation trail off because I know Cooper will understand.

“Eyeball will finish him and maybe you. Okay, darlin’. I’ll be right out. Keep your car doors locked.”

“Thanks, Cooper.”

“You can thank me by fixing me some of your chili. Don’t tell Iva, but her chili is weak as water. Yours will make hair grow on your chest.”

“Um … thanks, I think.”

“Be there shortly,” he says as I hang up.

I realize I’m still crying. I can’t seem to stop—even amid all of my panic. A man died today. I just hope I can get the one that I’m bringing home to survive. It’s going to be kind of hard to turn in a dead body and explain I was trying to save him without bringing him to a hospital …

Shit!

Chapter 1

Indy

“You think he’ll make it?” Iva asks.

“I think so. The shot went clean through. I didn’t even have to dig it out. It missed anything vital, too. I don’t think he would have lost consciousness except for the huge knot on his head. I’d feel more comfortable if I could take him to the hospital, though.”

“He’d probably be more comfortable, too,” she points out.

I frown, looking at the freaking huge man that is currently stretched out on two steel operating tables I pushed together. Even with doing that, his feet are hanging off one end. Of course, my tables are made to hold large dogs—not people.

“If I take him to the hospital, they may find him,” I point out. “You know this town as much as I do. They’ll hand him over to that asshole Eyeball out of fear. Taking this guy in will just sign his death warrant.”

“So, what are you going to do?” she asks as I let out a sigh.

“I’m going to take a leap of faith,” I respond quietly. I also pray I’m not making the wrong decision. “I’m going to keep him hidden until he heals.”

“You said he was going to survive.”

“Yes,” I answer. “I’m just not sure how long it’s going to take for him to heal.”

“Then what do you want to do? I can tell there’s something going on in your mind.”

“I’m going to have to set up a room for him in the house and move him. I don’t like the idea with my daughter being there, but I don’t really have a choice. Maybe I can get Coop to fix a lock on the outside so I can lock him in at night until I know what kind of person he is.”

I don’t mean to, but I find myself walking over toward the unconscious man currently covered in an old white hospital sheet. When I found him, he was soaking wet. I think he may have pulled himself out of the lake. That worries me because of the open wound. I stripped him down. Then I made a concentrated effort to clean all the debris from his body and sanitize the injuries. Just because the wound wasn’t fatal, doesn’t mean an infection in his blood wouldn’t be. I was meticulous in cleaning him and checking out the wound. I also had Coop go back and dispose of the motorcycle cut he was wearing. My hopes were that it would lead the Feral Kings to believe they had achieved their goal. I don’t know what kind of man this guy is, but I figure if he managed to piss off the Feral Kings, he must be better than they are. Of course, I can’t imagine too many could be as horrible as they are.

This guy had a patch on his jacket that said his name was Breaker. I’m pretty sure that’s not what is on his birth certificate. His cut also indicated he was a member of the Savage Brothers MC. I’ve never heard of them. Honestly, I don’t want to. When he recovers, he can leave here and go back to where he comes from. Hopefully, the Feral Kings will never know I helped him.

I let my gaze move over the man in question and sigh. I’m stupid for doing this. I’m putting not only myself in danger but also my daughter. I should have just walked away, but Icouldn’t just let him die. He’ll live, although he will sport a nice scar on his chest. It’s above his heart. Whoever shot him was planning on killing him. There was enough blood that the bastard probably didn’t realize he missed. I was worried myself until I got Breaker’s shirt off.

My gaze moves to the man. It should be against the law to look as good as he does. Large, wide shoulders, tattoos lovingly inked over a physique that has to have been kissed by the gods. His long dirty blond hair makes my fingers itch, wanting to know how it would feel to run my fingers through it. There are these little lines around his eyes that make me wonder if he laughs and smiles often. His body is littered with scars, meaning the wound I sewed up today will have a lot of company.

“Did you hear me?”

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