Page 62 of Rogue

He grins and shakes his head. “Good. Now hold that thought.”

And then he disappears, the door closing softly behind him.

I’d think it was all just a daydream if I didn’t still taste him on my lips and if I didn’t still feel his arms holding me tight. And if his words weren’t still singing their sweet little tune in my mind.

Love. Reciprocated.

I never thought I’d see the day.

29

Rogue

I’ve always been a single-minded, one-woman type of guy. But until now, the only woman occupying my mind was Angel. Now that place has solidly been taken up by Melody, no two ways about. It takes serious effort to make it out of the ER without my arm around her shoulders, but somehow, I do it.

“That doc and you, is it serious?” Zane asks from behind my back as I mount my bike.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, rounding on him and checking him up and down for injuries.

“You serious about her?” he asks again pointedly, sounding like he really needs an answer.

“Yeah, I’m very serious about her,” I say. “What’s it to you?”

His face is still locked into a hard, expressionless mask. “And you know who she was… with Devil’s Nightmare MC… you know she was their club whore?”

“She told me,” I say. “Doesn’t bother me.”

His face finally relaxes. Slightly.

“Didn’t think it would,” he says. “You being you.”

“Yeah, how’s that?” I ask.

“You just always had this thing about taking in orphans and the downtrodden,” he says, looking over my shoulder at the street as though he’s expecting someone.

“And you? You sick or something?” I ask and he shrugs.

“You know me, I’ve always been sick,” he says, whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean.

“I need to go in now,” he says, eying the ER entrance.

He doesn’t look like he’s in need of a doctor, but that bandage covering his left hand is very dirty.

I don’t actually have time to chat. I probably shouldn’t have taken as long as I have coming to see Melody in the first place. But I couldn’t do anything else until she knew what she means to me.

Anything can happen tonight. I could get shot and not make it back to her tonight. I made the mistake of not telling the first woman I loved that I loved her enough and then it was suddenly too late to ever do it again. I’m not making that mistake again.

“Stop by the clubhouse later,” I say, on the spur of the moment. “We can talk, catch up.”

If the LAPD dropped us because of our ties to him then I might as well rekindle those ties.

He gives me this weird look that’s half surprise and half hope.

“Yeah, maybe,” he says. “But I gotta go now.”

He turns and strides into the ER waiting area, looking like he’s trying not to run.

The moment my ass is planted on the seat of my bike the whole exchange with Unholy starts fading in my mind. And as I speed out of the ambulance bay and down the avenue, I’m once again completely focused on the job ahead of me.

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