Page 43 of Truck Stop Titan

I shot him a glare, warning him to not go there.

Fucker only laughed and pointed a finger toward the window. “That doctor in there. She’s the best in the country. Anyone can help those two, it’s her. So don’t worry.”

Something akin to a grunt rose up my chest.

We parked our asses in the cool grass and stared out over the lake, my head a hot mess of agitation.

James cleared his throat. Swirled his bottle. “Can I ask you something?”

Any distraction was welcome. “Shoot.”

“What’s it like, being in that club? Kurt Sutter get it right?”

“Who?”

“You know…Son’s of…” He shook his head, his cheeks growing red. “Never mind.”

I knew damn well what he was talking about. Better to play clueless. Club business was exactly that. Club business. Wasn’t to be discussed with anyone outside of our brotherhood. I’d die before betraying that trust. They’d been part of my life for as long as I could remember. They’d taken me in, yes, because of my father’s fuck-ups, but twisted as the relationship was, they’d given me purpose. They’d had every right to end me when my sorry excuse for an old man had betrayed the club. Instead, they’d let me take the reins when it came time to bring him in, and they’d allowed me the final strike when it came time to end him.

Still, club life was hard. Gave you thick skin and roughened any soft edges you might’ve had. “I wouldn’t wish that life on anybody with a moral compass.”

James only nodded, eyes squinting against the bright beams of light bouncing off the water’s surface.

“You’re a good man, Dane.”

“I’m not.”

“You being here, you doing what you did for Mim, tells me otherwise.” He pushed to his feet, tossed his beer bottle into the trash bucket and said, “Come on. Help clean this shit up, then you can check on your ladies.”

Seriously. I’d had it. “One.” I chucked the hammer. “They aren’t my ladies.” Hands to hips, I continued. “Two. What makes you think I need to check on them? And three…” I threw my hands to the sky. “Fuck. I don’t have a three, but…whatever.”

The guy wasn’t stupid. He knew not to push. We cleaned up. Headed inside. Before parting ways, James pulled off his dusty cap and wiped his brow with the back of his arm. “You any good with engines?”

“I can manage.” I played uninterested, though there was nothing I loved more than dismantling a machine and then putting it back together.

“Good. That old Ford’s giving me trouble. Could use some help taking her apart.”

My answer should’ve beenno, on account of my pending departure, but instead I grunted, “Sure thing.”

He hit me in the shoulder with his cap. “Great. See you at dinner.”

Yeah. I wasn’t joining anyone for dinner.

I wasted no time making my way to the second floor. Voices were audible behind the closed door, but too quiet to catch the gist of the conversation. I considered knocking, or tearing the door from its hinges, which made no fucking sense. I had no business worrying about how either one of those girls were holding up. Instead, I jogged up the stairs, slammed a beer, then cranked the shower to scalding.

They’d been alone for hours, and not once had I been called to comfort Mim. Not one damn time. Seemed she was getting better. Seemed the head doctor was as good as everyone kept telling me. Seemed I wouldn’t be needed much longer.

I ducked my head under the water flow and rubbed my left pec. Maybe with some quality shut eye, the ache in my chest would go away.

# # #

“Got a minute?”

“Sure.” I clutched the open door, towel hanging loose around my waist. I’d tried to sleep. A shower and two beers should’ve helped. They didn’t. So, I’d taken another shower, Moriah on my mind while I jacked off. “Where’s Mim?”

“With Rocky.” Moriah scooted past, her palm brushing my chest, and damn if her touch didn’t give me a swift kick in the gut.

“Rocky showed her how to build forts out of blankets and chairs. They watched movies on my tablet and fell asleep side by side. Lettie’s staying with them. She shooed me to bed.”

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