Page 5 of Rogue

I start walking out of the bar before I flirt some more.

“Figures,” he says as he falls in step with me.

“What does?” I ask, glancing at him, but otherwise keeping my eyes on the door. Not looking at his eyes is the only way I will be safe.

He pulls the door open for me like a perfect gentleman.

“That you’d have a real pretty name to go with the rest of the beautiful package,” he says and makes my breath hitch.

I’ve already heard all the lines guys use to get in a woman’s pants and then some. So his words aren’t the reason I’m having trouble catching my breath or finding something to respond with.

It’s the way he said it. With such raw honesty and with just enough feeling to make me believe it came from the heart. And there’s just the right level of surprise in his eyes as the words hang between us like he can’t believe he said it either. Like the words just came out because they had to.

What the hell am I thinking?

I’m reading way too much into all this, and I almost give myself a hard slap across the cheek to snap out of it.

The tiredness, stress, and the gut-wrenching pain that’s been the last couple of days is causing me to see and hear things in hiswords that can’t possibly be there. And why I’m seeing them in the way he looks at me too.

“Thank you,” I say and give him one last smile as I walk out into the parking lot and climb on the back of Hunter’s bike.

I’m not a club girl anymore. And I’ll never be any biker’s ol’ lady.

That’s just how it’s gotta be. No regrets. But that part of my life is over.

3

Rogue

I decided to help the Devil’s Nightmare MC guy Hunter get his girl back. I figured it’s the least I could do and besides, the guy who took her is the same guy my MC has been trying to put behind bars for years. But then one thing led to another and I made some hasty choices, which left me with huge gunshot wound in my side and the most beautiful doctor I’ve ever seen taking care of me. Not a bad deal after all.

We’re in one of the vacant rooms at the clubhouse, and I’m pretty sure the entire MC is out in the hallway, chattering and sighing, and sounding like they expect me not to make it. But she’s the only one I really see. Just like it was a couple of hours ago at the Flamingo Saloon when I first laid eyes on her.

“So, I’m gonna make it, right?” I ask her. “Dr. Melody?”

She gives me the most exasperated look I’ve seen since my mother last gave me such a look. It makes her big blue eyes ripple as beautifully as the Pacific Ocean.

“It’s Dr. Lockhart, actually,” she says soft, moving her long, light brown hair out of the way and continues stitching up my side. I don’t feel a thing. And I don’t think it’s just because ofwhatever painkiller she gave me. It’s also because she has such a gentle touch.

She hasn’t smiled at me since we left the Flamingo Saloon and I really wish she would.

“Wow, a pretty last name to go with a pretty first name,” I say. “You really are the whole package. But I already knew that.”

She purses her lips and shakes her head. “Hold still or the stitches will be lopsided and you’ll have a huge scar instead of a small one.”

“That’s fine,” I say as I lay my head back down on the pillow. “I’m used to carrying around big scars.”

Her eyes snap to my face but I don’t meet them. She keeps looking at me though, like she’s trying to read something more into my words. She won’t. I’ve already said too much.

I still have no idea what it is about this woman, but the moment I saw her, I wanted to talk to her, get to know her, touch her. She’s the first woman that struck me so strongly in that way in a very long time. A very, very long time.

I can’t explain it, and I don’t want to try anymore.

She’s right to be stand-offish. It’s nothing real. And nothing that will last. The women in my life come and go. Mostly they go. I don’t do relationships and I don’t form attachments. Not because I’m still hung up on Angel. She’s gone and I know that. It’s because I couldn’t handle losing another woman I love. My heart’s not strong enough for that. So, this desire for getting to know everything there is to know about Melody is just part of my residual giddiness left over from finally getting the revenge my soul yearned for these last ten years. It’s not anything more than that.

“Give me something to put me back in action as soon as you’re done stitching me up,” I tell her. “Tonight’s job’s not done yet.”

She scoffs. “That may be so, but it is done for you. You’ve lost at least a liter of blood, so you’re down for the count, I’m afraid. Sorry.”

---