Page 57 of Rogue

“Nah, it’s a lot more than that,” he says and warps his arms around.

Then he kisses me so hard and deep my legs turn to jelly and I’m transported to a time and place far away from the dimness of this room and the smell of disinfectant permeating everything and all the dark thoughts that found a home in my mind these last couple of days.

There’s nothing but truth in that kiss. And the truth is no man ever wanted me the way Rogue does. I can feel it in his touch, taste it on his lips, know it in my heart. I want this kiss to last forever.

But then the door opens, knocking into his back and knocking us apart.

“Oh,” Jamal the nurse says and backs away from the door.

Ever heard of knocking?I very nearly snap at him.

“Sorry. But we need you out here, Dr. Lockhart.”

“Be right there,” I say and he closes the door as he leaves.

Rogue grins and tries to kiss me again, but I stop him by laying my finger over his lips. “Hold that thought.”

Because if he kissed me again, hours could pass before I remembered I’m at work.

27

Rogue

Well, that conversation took a turn I didn’t expect. Good thing there’s nothing she can do or say that will make me stay away from her. I told her no lies. I don’t care what she was. As long as I can call her mine now.

The kiss she gave me in that dark exam room told me I can do that with no reservations from now on.

Afterwards, I hung around the ER watching her give CPR to the bloodied victim they brought in. She gives all of herself to helping patients, I noticed it on that night I brought in Lotus and it was clear again today. And I might’ve stayed even longer, just to watch her work for the rest of the day if Manny hadn’t called, demanding we meet.

So, I told her I’ll pick her up after her shift and rode out to meet him at the Flamingo Saloon.

He’s standing in front of the bar, next to his parked car, squinting from the bright sunlight shining directly into his eyes. His dark blue polo shirt is all crinkled but not as badly as the khaki’s he’s wearing. This outfit is basically his uniform as adetective, but I don’t think he’s changed since I met up with him here two nights ago.

“What’s this I hear about Zane O’Sullivan hanging around your clubhouse?” he barks at me as I dismount.

He approaches, his fists all balled up and grimacing like he’s about to take a swing at me. But then again, he always looks like that lately. Too much working. Not enough having fun.

“He’s an old friend of mine,” I say in a friendly tone, not wanting to rile him up. “That’s why he stopped by.”

“He’s on top of the FBI’s most wanted list,” he snaps. “As his friend you know that. And you’re to detain him and hand him over when he shows up.”

I could take this conversation in a number of different directions. For one, I really want to know how the fuck Manny found out about Unholy’s visit so fast. But I gotta diffuse this tension between us first.

“Let’s go inside,” I say. “You look like you need a cold drink.”

He scoffs. “I told you over and over again that you gotta stay within the law if you wanna work with us. Didn’t I tell you that?”

“Over and over, yes,” I say.

He still looks like he wants to take a swing at me. And I’m having trouble figuring out why.

“You’re a piece of work, you know that,” he says.

“You know my MC straddles that line between the law and what needs to be done,” I say. “We always have and we always will.”

“Taking in fugitives and sheltering killers is not just straddling the line,” he says. “It’s moving so far away from it you can’t even see it anymore.”

He’s got a point, I can’t deny that. So, I won’t try.

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