Part 17 (1/2)

Sighing, Baylee's hands dropped from her face, and she looked from me, to Luke, to Allen, to Winter, and finally back to Allen.

”The guy was supposed to be a drunk and disorderly. Except he wasn't that drunk. Found him outside the IHop nursing a brown bag special. Got him loaded into the bus, took his vitals, and then he just went...nuts. Demanded medication for his headache...medication we d.a.m.n well don't even carry. Winter was driving, and trying to pull over, but we were in the middle of rush hour on the interstate. Then he started threatening to rape me. What the h.e.l.l was I supposed to do? Spread my legs and let him take me?” Baylee finished on a snarl.

Luke and Allen took a step back at her vehemence. I didn't.

I closed the distance between us, placed one fist on either side of her face, and leaned in until our noses were touching. ”No. You never just lean back and take it. You f.u.c.king gouge his eyes out, and do just exactly what you did. You wait until your man gets there; you hold on, you fight for your life. 'Cause once I get there, that man's finished. Do you understand me? Done. G.o.d help me if he tries it while I'm there, too.”

Baylee's eyes widened, and flicked nervously towards the side to the part.i.tion separating her from the next room, and suddenly I knew.

The man that had the nerve to lay his hands on my defenseless woman, to threaten to rape her, was in the very next room. Smiling a tad manically, I leveraged myself up and sauntered out of the room.

And how about that, they left him unattended.

Walking in quietly, I had nearly gotten the door closed when a hand stopped its movements, and Luke pushed his way inside.

I ignored her brother, cracked my knuckles, and went to work.

Luke and I had some sort of bonding moment in those fifteen minutes.

Words weren't spoken or anything, but we came to an understanding.

One where Luke's sister, my woman, were put first above all others.

With that, we became...not enemies.

”Do you want to go to my place, or your place? You won't be working for a good week, if not more.” I told Baylee as we walked carefully out to my bike.

I'd asked if she wanted her brother to take her home since he'd had a vehicle, but Baylee shook her head and declined, saying she'd probably be more comfortable with me against her front to hold her steady.

I'd been skeptical, but she'd been insistent, and I decided to just let it lie. She was tired, and arguing with her about it wasn't going to help.

”Your place. My parents are staying at mine.” She said tiredly.

I stopped and stared at her. ”Your parents are at your place, and you want me to take you to my house? Why?”

She shrugged. ”If you take me home, then I won't be able to sleep next to you all night. I don't want that.”

I pulled her into my chest tenderly, kissing the top of her head softly before releasing her and heading to my bike.

”I guess I didn't realize it was already time for them to be here. When did they get in?” I asked as we arrived at my bike.

”They aren't going to be worried about you if you come to my place?” I asked worriedly.

”They don't know. Luke pinky promised that he wouldn't tell them if I told them tomorrow. Plus, Katy is at my house with them; I just want to sleep, and she won't let me if I go home. Not to mention the fact that you won't be there. So, I think I'll stay with you, if that's alight?” She explained.

I nodded in confirmation. ”My sister has Johnny tonight, so that'll work out for you getting some shut eye. I have to go pick him up in the A.M. though. James can only handle so much.”

”You want something to eat before we go home?” I asked as I put the key into the bike.

”No, I just want to go home, down my painkillers, and sleep for sixteen hours straight.”

”That, I think we can do.” I acknowledged just before the bike rumbled to life. ”Hold on to me, girl. This's gonna hurt.”

Baylee wrapped herself around me tighter, and then buried her nose into my back.

Baylee The sound of shrieking laughter, followed by the patter of little feet woke me from my drug-induced haze.

I made the mistake of rolling from my side, where the pillows kept me in one place, to my stomach, and about died at the pain that radiated out from my ribs.

Bile surged up my throat, but I knew from experience that if I puke, I'd only make things infinitely worse. I'd learned that the hard way after my last work accident. It was zero fun, sir.

My mother's familiar calming voice came from the porch beyond Sebastian's room made me peel my eyes open to see mid-morning sun streaming through the pulled blinds of Sebastian's window.

The next five pain filled minutes were spent s.h.i.+mmying off the bed, and then shuffling to the bathroom.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that Sebastian had made a half-a.s.sed effort to remove the toys from the bottom of his shower.

I didn't think I could manage to bend and toss them over the side at this point. I felt so bad. At least my head didn't hurt. That was something, wasn't it?

The feel of hot water streaming down over my skin helped soothe some of the aches and pains.

I managed to run the bar of soap down my stomach, chest, and shoulders. However, when I got down to my legs, I just couldn't handle it anymore. My legs would be hairy. So be it, because there was no way I was shaving today. Then again, it wasn't like it would matter if my legs were hairy, because it wasn't like I'd be getting any anytime soon. Not without a little bit of pain; Sebastian, nor I, got off on that type of thing. At least I didn't think he did.

When I finally made my way into the living room wearing the only thing I could stand to put on, a t-s.h.i.+rt with the Dixie Wardens MC logo on it and a pair of Sebastian's flannel pants, I was ready to go back to sleep, exhausted with the effort.

It was only the sweet sound of my mother's voice that kept me moving to the living room, and then to the kitchen where my mother was at Sebastian's stove wearing his ap.r.o.n and cooking. It smelled heavenly, and I knew instantly what it was. Chicken fried chicken. My favorite.

My mom only made it on special occasions. She said it took too much effort to make it any more often than she did.

”Mom.” I called once I stepped barefoot onto the kitchen tiles.

My mom whirled at the sound of my voice, dropped the spatula on the counter, and moved towards me slowly, gathering me into her arms carefully. ”Oh, baby. You have such a dangerous job it scares me and your papa.”

Ugh. Not this argument again. For the love of all that's holy. ”Mom, you know I love my job. I don't want to do anything else.”

”But, baby, this is the second time you've gotten hurt on the job within two years. Can't you go work in the hospital or something?” she pleaded, curling my palm around her cheek.

I sighed and pulled back, going to the coffeemaker and smiling slightly when I saw my favorite cup waiting for me.

Punching down the large b.u.t.ton, because I was pretty d.a.m.n sure I'd need it, I turned and surveyed the kitchen, my mom included.

”What do you think of Sebastian?” I asked, trying to get my mother's attention focused on something other than my career choice.

Before I could answer, my dad's voice filtered in from the porch. ”Paige, bring me a beer!” He bellowed.

”Get your own beer, Travis! I'm busy! Lunch isn't going to cook itself, or did you want to get up and make it?” My mother screeched back.

Ahh, I knew I missed my parents.