Made to Riot_The Ancestors MC Page 5

  “Well, if you don’t want to call the cops, then you’re going to have to try hard to remember what happened to you. If you did get hit by a car we’re going to need to check for any injuries to your organs or internal bleeding.”

  I closed my eyes and thought as hard as I could back to last night.

  I remembered Spider and the rest of his thugs. I remembered the three chrome-dome bruisers descending on me, weapons in hand. I remembered thinking that this wasn’t a roughing up session—these guys really wanted to kill me.

  I disarmed the first. Then that same blur fell over my memories. But now I could remember running down the alley, a couple of the thugs hobbling after me. Judging by the way they were struggling to run, I must’ve done some serious damage.

  Lying in the bed, I patted down my pockets, finding nothing in either of them

  “That’s right,” I said. “Tried to find my keys, but realized they must’ve gotten knocked away or dropped or something.”

  “Keys to your car?”

  “Keys to my bike.”

  Anya nodded in understanding, as if thinking “yeah, of course this guy has a bike.”

  I thought back again. Now I remembered realizing that I had to make a run for it. I ran across the street near Rooster’s, but didn’t check both sides before crossing, like a good boy should. A pair of headlights appeared, their light blinding me. Then … nothing.

  “Yeah,” I said. “It was a car. I ran across the street like a goddamn idiot and got hit.”

  “Hmm,” said Anya. “Hit-and-run. Just some random car?”

  “Who knows,” I said. “All I remember were the lights.”

  Another thought crossed my mind.

  “Does anyone here ... know that you know me?” I asked, a little smirk forming on my face as images from our little fuck session from the other night entered my mind.

  “No,” she said in a stern tone. “And they’re not going to know about it. I don’t need any of my colleagues knowing I got screwed by some biker thug in the parking lot of a roadhouse.”

  “That little smile on your face says otherwise,” I said.

  “I’m not smiling!” she said, the words shooting out like bullets.

  “Sure …” I said.

  I had to admit, half of the fun with goodie-goodies like her was messing with them.

  “Stop joking around; you could be really hurt,” she said. “We’re going to do some blood work, and until then, I want you to stay put. Don’t even think about getting up.”

  “Bullshit,” I said. “I need to get to my bike and get the hell out of this town. Who the hell knows if the assholes who put me here are still looking for me.”

  “Well, unless you want to call the cops, then I don’t know what to tell you. I’m not sending you out of here until I can make sure you’re not going to collapse right outside the door from a ruptured liver.”

  She had me there. I needed to get back to the club and get to the bottom of this, but I wouldn’t be any good if I had some serious damage that I didn’t know about.

  “Fine,” I said. “But I want my own room. This shit with the curtain isn’t gonna cut it.”

  Anya thought it over, crossing her arms and cocking her hips to the side in a way that put ideas into my mind on just how I could use the privacy.

  “Okay. But only because we happen to have some open rooms right now.”

  “Works for me,” I said. “And thanks for the service with a smile.”

  Anya crinkled her nose and went out through the curtains. A few minutes later she was back with a pair of other nurses, young, pretty girls, though not nearly as hot as Anya. They looked me over, checking out my tattoos, their eyes lingering on my bare chest. They couldn’t have been older than their early twenties, and I knew that guys who looked like me were catnip to girls like that. But I was hardly in the mood for flirting.

  “Girls, focus,” said Anya, I noted with a small amount of annoyance.

  “What, jealous?” I asked.

  The girls’ eyes shot to Anya as they smelled gossip in the air.

  “He’s just being a smartass,” said Anya. “Don’t pay him any mind.”

  The girls gave each other a knowing look.

  Soon, I was rolled into another room, a private space with an actual door, a TV, and windows that looked out over the small parking lot behind the building. Anya hadn’t been kidding—this was a small hospital.

  “Get comfy,” said Anya once I was settled in. “You’re going to be in here for the next few hours. And I don’t want a single word of protest.”

  “Damn,” I said, holding up my hands in mock indignation, “you turn in that sexy nurse costume for a dominatrix outfit at night?”

  Anya shook her head and rolled her eyes before departing. I passed the next few hours watching the TV aimlessly and poking at the white-bread sandwich and Jell-O one of the nurses brought in. But my thoughts were on the incident last night.

  “Donny gives his regards.”

  Spider’s words flooded back into my mind. This time, however, I could actually process them.

  Donny¸ I thought, my teeth gritting and my fists clenching.

  I couldn’t believe that fuck had actually had the balls to make a move to take me out. I knew that there was some serious bad blood between us and that things might come to blows in time, but him putting a hit on me so soon was something I was having a hard time with.

  Either way, he’d pay.

  Chapter Seven

  Anya

  “This is bullshit!” yelled Bryce, his face twisted in anger. “You told me two hours ago that I’d be able to leave in two hours, and now you’re saying that I’ve gotta be here for two hours more?”

  Not wanting to let him create a scene, I shut the door to Bryce’s room.

  It’d been hours since Bryce came to, and he was getting more and more restless by the minute. I knew that he was on the lookout for the men that’d put him here, but he didn’t seem to understand that I couldn’t just send him out into the world before I could give him the all-clear. But he didn’t care; he wanted to be out. As time went on he started to resemble more and more a caged animal that was about to start banging on the sides of his pen.

  “Okay, first of all, you’re going to need to calm down,” I said.

  I was trying to keep my cool, but his anger was getting close to boiling over. And what was worse, the more of a scene he made, the more the nurses wanted to watch him. I wanted to chide them for being such bubbleheaded ditzes over Bryce, but considering I’d fucked him just the other night I knew I didn’t have much room to talk.

  “You don’t get it,” he said. “I’m fine. And I need to get out of here right-the-fuck now.”

  “You aren’t going anywhere,” I said. “We’re still running the tests, and until that’s done you’re staying put. Got it? If you want to keep throwing a fit about it, however, I’d be more than happy to call the cops and see if they can’t get you to calm down.”

  He stared at me with his steely hazel eyes narrowed into slits, his nostrils flared. He was still mad, I could tell, but he knew that I was right.

  “Want some more Jell-O?” I asked with a smirk,

  He didn’t say a word. I left, locking the door behind me just to be safe.

  “Things okay in there?” asked Jeff, who had been standing near the door.

  “Fine,” I said, not really wanting to talk about it. “Maybe we can dose him with some sedatives until he calms the hell down.”

  “Not a bad idea,” said Jeff, not realizing that I was joking. “Might do him some good to get some rest.”

  I continued down the hall, and Jeff followed after me.

  “We got the results back for our hot-heated friend,” he said, looking over a clipboard in his hand.

  “Mhmm,” said Jeff. “And it looks good. He doesn’t seem to have any internal damage or bleeding. He’s just really banged up.”

  This was a relief; I wasn’t looking forward to
telling Bryce that he’d be stuck in town for a month while we put him through surgery.

  “But …” said Jeff.

  “‘But’?” I asked. “What ‘but’?”

  “I want to keep him in overnight,” said Jeff. “Well, more specifically, it’s policy to keep him in overnight.”

  “But if he’s fine then can’t we just send him out?”

  “And have him sue us for malpractice when he leaves and ‘realizes’ that he has injuries that we didn’t take any precaution to treat? Not a chance.”

  My blood quickened at this. It was pointless adherence to rules—just Jeff’s style.

  “Trust me,” I said. “This guy isn’t the litigious type.”

  “And how do you know that, exactly?” asked Jeff, stopping in his tracks and looking me over skeptically with his beady little eyes.

  “I … just do,” I said, realizing that anymore explanation would require details that I wasn’t willing to divulge. “He’s a thick-headed biker; he’s not going to get his lawyer on us.”

  “Maybe so, but the rules are rules. Plus, you can never be too careful when it comes to seeing your aye.”

  Covering your ass, I thought. Good to see his heart’s in the right place.

  “Fine,” I said. “Then you go in there and give him the news.”

  “Me?” asked Jeff. “Not a chance. I’ve got other patients to attend to. Besides, you’re the one who’s managed to develop such a … rapport with him. I’m sure he’ll take the news better from a friendly face.”

  And with that, Jeff was off, not even giving me the chance to respond.

  That fucker! I thought.

  I couldn’t prove it, of course, but something told me that he was scared of Bryce, scared of getting a little taste of the anger that I’d been putting up with for the last few hours. I also knew that there was nothing to be done. Jeff was my superior, and what he said went.

  Taking a long, slow draw of air, I turned back towards Bryce’s room. I considered putting off telling him the news for an hour or two, but I knew that I’d just spend the time thinking about what I was putting off. No, better to just rip the Band-Aid off.

  I opened the door to the room and was greeted with the sight of Bryce finally eating some of the food he’d been bought.

  “Good to see you’re getting your appetite back,” I said, taking my place next to his bed.

  He swallowed his mouthful of sandwich and took a sip of water, his eyes on me the entire time. And as much as I hated to admit it, I couldn’t help but feel impossibly attracted to him, even with him lying there in a hospital gown. His brown hair was slicked back, and his face was as gorgeous as always. I couldn’t blame the nurses for going gaga over him.

  “Well … I’ve got good news and bad news.”

  Bryce set down his sandwich, as if knowing just what it was I was going to say.

  “Just spill it,” he said.

  “The good news is that you’re fine. You’re dinged up a little, and your ribs are bruised, but other than that, you’re in good shape. You’re lucky.”

  “Bad news,” he said, his words a demand.

  “The bad news is that we’re going to need to keep you here overnight.”

  “What?” he said, snarling.

  “Please don’t get mad at me,” I said, hating myself for the weak words coming out of my mouth. “It’s policy. We can’t just send you out without making sure that you’re fine.”

  “But I am fine!”

  “I know, but that’s the policy. You know—insurance stuff.”

  “‘Insurance stuff’? What, you think I’m gonna sue you or something?”

  “It’s my boss,” I said. “He’s a stickler for the rules.”

  “Hmm,” said Bryce. “Maybe if I put him in a hospital bed of his own he’ll believe me when I say that I’m fine.”

  “Let’s … not go crazy here,” I said, taking a seat on the edge of his bed.

  “I’m serious,” he said. “What can I do to prove to you that I’m fine to go? You don’t get it— if these assholes who put me in here find out that I’m here … it’ll be bad news for everyone. Trust me.”

  “Prove that you’re good to leave?” I asked. “What, you want to bench press the bed?”

  His eyes narrowed. I knew exactly what was on his mind. My blood began to rush through my body, my heart beating faster.

  “I’m sure there’s a way I can prove it to you,” he said, moving his hand to my thigh, his sexy little mouth in a naughty smirk.

  Jesus, is he serious? I thought.

  But as he squeezed my leg, I knew that this was no joke.

  “How about this,” he said, sitting up in the bed. “I give you a little repeat of the other night, and you let me out of here. After all, if I can fuck your brains out I can’t be all that out of commission.”

  God, just hearing him say it started to make me wet. But I knew that I shouldn’t. Here, at work? It’d be totally unprofessional.

  “I know you’ve been thinking about it,” he said, moving his hand along the pink fabric of my scrubs.

  “It’s … a bad idea,” I said, trying to be rational about the whole thing.

  “The good kind of ‘bad,” he said.

  I did want it—that was for damn sure. And he was making so easy, so tempting to give in. I could see his gown tent over his crotch, and the thought of his hard cock thrusting deep into me made me cross my legs.

  “I think it makes a certain kind of sense,” he said, moving closer to me. “Think of it as a … physical fitness test.”

  I couldn’t take it anymore. His hard cock so close to me, along with the sight of his perfect body, was sending me over the edge. I could hardly think straight. Without another word, I stood up, walked over to the door, shut it, and locked the handle.

  Looking back at Bryce, I pulled the top of my scrubs over my head and tossed the shirt off to the side.

  “Atta girl,” he said. “Now get that ass over here.”

  Part of me still wanted to object to the way he was talking to me, to tell him to show me at least a little bit of respect. But the other part of me, the more insistent part, wanted to do just what I was about to. The room’s air cool against my body, I walked over to Bryce slowly and sensually. Taking his gown into my hand, I pulled it off with a quick jerk, his body now totally exposed.

  “That’s the spirit,” he said.

  I still wanted to protest; he was just too cocky about what he was doing. But still, all the better part of me could think about was that long, thick cock staring up at me. I wanted to pull my panties off right then and ride him hard.

  But that would go against the little test that he had in mind.

  Still, I had to indulge myself, if only just a little.

  My tongue dragged over my lips as I looked Bryce up and down, paying special attention to the bulging muscles of his thighs.

  “You look like you’ve got some mischief on your mind,” he said, slipping his hands behind his head.

  “You don’t want to know what I’ve got on my mind,” I retorted.

  “I do … but I want you to show me.”

  Fair enough.

  Standing over Bryce, I slid my hand along his right leg, coming to a rest at the base of his cock. Wrapping my finger around it, I began to work his shaft, the feeling of his hard prick on my skin driving me absolutely wild. Bryce let out a low “mmm,” as I stroked him, his cock getting even harder. Then, after teasing him a little, I bent over and wrapped my lips around him.

  First, I just kissed it a little. After all, I had no idea if I was even going to be able to fit this whole thing in my mouth. Slipping his head into my mouth, I lashed the end of his prick with my tongue, letting the taste of him hang in my mouth, savoring every little bit. I flicked my gaze up to Bryce, who was watching my work with sensual eyes.

  After sucking on the end of him for a while longer, I took more and more of him into my mouth, letting my lips drag along his length, allo
wing Bryce to enjoy the warm wetness of my mouth.

  God, what the hell am I doing? I thought, my mouth now full of him. Sucking a biker’s cock in the middle of my shift—this is new … but oh-so-nice.

  I moved my head down further, now holding the entire length of his prick in my mouth.

  “Damn,” he said, grabbing a handful of my hair and taking in the sight of me with my mouth full of him. “That’s some skill.”