Marked for Death (Blind Jacks MC)
“You’d be freakin’ surprised. You sure you don’t mind if I use it?”
“Knock yourself out. It’s not like it has sentimental value or anything.”
Snapping the lid on the gun box shut, Ryder frowned. “Back to the going home with you part. You can’t take me to your place. It’s too dangerous. Drop me off at a hotel.”
Shaking her head, Tiffany informed him, “I’ve got a much better plan. My godparents own a cabin. It’s miles from anyplace. We’ll both hold up there. My weekend just ended, so I’m all yours.”
He looked skeptical. “You sure nobody knows about this cabin?”
“Since nobody knows about my godparents, I don’t think anyone would think to look for me at their vacation cabin,” she assured him. “They haven’t even been up there in years. It might take me a minute to get it cleared out and cozy though.”
Loading a clip into the gun, Ryder tucked it into his waistband, all business. “Sounds like a plan. Thanks for thinking of me, even after I warned you off.”
Smiling at his handsome profile, she responded quietly, “You’re more than welcome. There’s one of those warehouse clubs near the cabin.” They could pick up supplies there to tide them over for a while.
“Forget that,” he said brusquely, shooting that idea down flat. “If anyone runs your shit, they’ll see you shopped there. Stop by an ATM and I’ll pull out cash. You do the same. From now on, we don’t do anything to leave a paper trail. Drive safely. We can’t get pulled over. We pay cash for gas and groceries. We’ll stop at a superstore of some type and grab clothing and food at the same time. Take your battery out of your phone and disconnect your GPS.”
She stared at him, wondering where he’d learned to do all of this. “You’re alarmingly proficient at not drawing notice.”
Swiping the back of his hand across his sweaty brow, he nodded. “I guess you get good at things like that in my line of work.”
“I don’t guess you were given any scrips since you left AMA.”
Shaking his head, he stared out the window. “No. They didn’t give me anything. Just stop by a Mexican market on your way out of town. I’ll pick up antibiotics and some Tylenol there.”
“You sure you don’t want to call and ask Dr. Coal for a prescription?”
“I don’t want you anywhere near that dickhead. We get our meds this way when we’re between a rock and hard place. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”
Nodding, she did as he asked. He was in and out in a matter of minutes and had two strange bottles of orange soda pop. Taking his meds, he jerked his chin for her to drive. To her trained eye, it was obvious he wasn’t doing as well as he pretended. She made a beeline for a drive through ATM, and they both took out their daily max.
As she drove them toward the cabin, Ryder fell almost immediately into a listless sleep. As he slept, she worried.
Stopping at a superstore, she left him to rest. Inside, she loaded a buggy with clothing and household stuff then another with food. Trying to think of everything, she grabbed a couple of sheet sets, blankets, pillows, and towels just in case the cabin wasn’t stocked.
Maneuvering two buggies was a skill she’d learned early in life as the oldest in a large family. On a whim, she grabbed a couple of prepaid phones. This shopping excursion had cost her about half her cash.
Ryder was still asleep when she returned to the SUV. Careful not to wake him, she quietly loaded up the back of the SUV and climbed behind the wheel.
Before leaving the parking lot, Tiffany glanced over at Ryder’s sleeping form. He was sweating worse than ever, and the nurse in her immediately noticed his pale coloring. Reaching over, she touched the back of her hand to his forehead.
Ryder was burning with a fever. Remembering the details of the plan he’d set out for them, she was pretty certain the last thing he would agree to was going to the hospital. So she headed directly for the cabin.
Pulling him out of the vehicle took every ounce of strength she had in her, but she managed. Once inside, she wrapped his bandages in plastic to keep them dry. Ryder’s eyes were glassy as she maneuvered him into a cool shower and sponged him clean.
Wrapping a towel around him, she quickly made the bed and tucked him between the cool sheets. He hadn’t spoken since he woke up, but his brown eyes followed her as she scurried around taking care of him.
As soon as she was able to break away, she emptied the SUV and got busy cleaning the musty cabin. Thankfully, there was one of those expensive, super-sucking vacuum cleaners tucked away in a closet.
She removed the furniture covers and tossed them in the washer along with the curtains then set about vacuuming every square inch of the place. Tossing the furniture covers in the dryer, she broke out the new mop for the floors. Soon the place was actually looking like a real vacation retreat.
She took vitals on Ryder every hour and made sure he took another dose of medication. He was agreeable to drinking when she pressed him, so at least he wasn’t getting dehydrated. Breaking out the new, inexpensive crock pot, she plopped a huge roast into it with some seasoning. Next, she rewarded herself with a cup of coffee from the ten-dollar coffeemaker she found on sale. One sip of the potent brew and all was right with her world. On a whim, she pulled out her hefty first-aid kit from the SUV and plugged in the prepaid phones to charge.
Feeling like an overworked elf at Christmastime, Tiffany slid into a hot shower. As the water cascaded over her tired body, Tiffany worried about whether she’d bitten off more than she could chew with this one. Seeing Ryder so sick tugged at her heartstrings because she could tell he was used to being strong and in charge. She supposed that him being so accepting of her help probably meant something to him. Truth be told, it meant something to her as well.
She shuddered to think of what would have happened to him had she not waited for him. He’d be lying in a cheap hotel somewhere burning with fever all night. To hell with that! He was better off with her, no matter what happened later on down the line.
Ryder woke up to the aroma of something fantastic hanging in the air. The scent reminded him of Sunday dinner when he was growing up. It was the one meal he could count on every single week to be phenomenal. The rest of the week might have been a hit or miss, but Sundays everyone sat around the table like civilized folk.
Glancing around, he saw Tiffany curled up in a big easy chair by the bed. The huge chair practically swallowed her slight form, but she looked cozy with a blue blanket wrapped around her and an honest to goodness book with pages resting on her lap. Ryder couldn’t remember the last time he saw someone reading a real book instead of an e-reader or smartphone. He couldn’t tell what kind of book it was, though, because her hand was draped over it.
Sitting up, he stretched a little to loosen his muscles. The bedroom was neat and clean. He didn’t remember much about the night before, but the house seemed dirty to him when they first arrived.
He slid out of the bed and padded quietly to the bathroom. He leaned over the toilet, bracing himself on the wall as he rubbed his morning wood down enough to pee.
Vaguely, he remembered her loading supplies into the back of the vehicle. Sighing, Ryder hoped she didn’t do all the shopping and cleaning herself.
Turning, he saw a stack of men’s clothing in his size with the handgun she loaned him lying on top of a short cabinet in the corner. His chest warmed when he realized she’d picked out clothes for him. No one had ever done that for him before.
He struggled into the pair of jeans, tucked the gun into the waistband at the small of his back, and pulled the T-shirt on. The immediate concern was walking the perimeter of the property and securing it. His shoes were near the door, thankfully. Once outside, a quick walk around the property was enough to assure him they were miles from civilization. Everything seemed to be in order.
Coming back into the house, he spotted Tiffany moving around in the kitchen and felt a smile creep across his face. She was wearing yoga pants that cupped her tiny, roun
d ass and a matching pink T-shirt.
Thank God, she was making coffee.
Striding across the room, he sat at the long counter and waited for her to notice him.
He didn’t have to wait long. She turned and almost jumped out of her skin.
“Woah, doll, calm down. It’s just me.”
She took a moment to breathe deep. “I was worried when I woke up and you were gone.”
“Wanted to scout the place out and make sure it was safe.”
Rolling her eyes, she asked, “Cream and sugar in your coffee?”
His stomach rumbled as if to answer. “That would be great. Anything I can munch on. I’m hungry enough to eat a cow.”
Her laughter made him smile. “I made a roast overnight in the slow cooker. You can nibble on that while I make some eggs and toast.”
“I would love that. It smells great.”
She quickly scooped out a thick piece and put it in a bowl with a slice of crusty bread on the side.
“Where I come from, this is a whole meal,” he told her as he dug in.
She smiled indulgently at him. “Well, while I’m around, sick guys get a real breakfast. You need all the protein you can get.”
“I ain’t sick, doll. I’m injured. There’s a difference.”
“Why don’t you mansplain to the nurse all about that while she makes your eggs,” she said snarkily.
He grinned. “You got me there. Guess if I had a fever I was pretty sick.”
“The antibiotics you bought were extremely high grade. It kicked whatever infection was brewing right out of your system.”
“I’ve used it before. It’s potent stuff. It was real nice waking up to your pretty face today, by the way.”
She beamed at him as she took out some eggs. “Fried or scrambled?”
“Is scrambled with cheese an option?” he asked eagerly. Suddenly, he felt as if he hadn’t eaten in a week.
“Of course. Do you want cheddar, swiss, or muenster?”
“Cheddar would be great. I’m easy to please,” he said with a wink.
“Good. I’m a lazy woman.”
“You are anything but lazy,” he contended without missing a beat. “This place looks great, and thanks for the new duds. I’m sorry that I was down for the count when it was time to shop and clean. I’ll make it up to you.”
“Sure you aren’t one of those guys who think a woman’s place is in the kitchen?”
“Hell no. I think their place is in the bedroom,” he quipped.
“You’re a funny guy. No sex until your wounds heal,” she countered. “Doctor’s order.”
“Fuckin’ hell, doll. How can you do that to a man?”
“Quite easily, I can assure you. You scared the crap out of me last night,” she said, sobering.
“Is that why you were sleeping beside my bed?”
Huffing out an exasperated breath, she stretched her neck a little. “You weren’t doing so well. I almost took you back to the hospital.”
“Glad you didn’t. I’m doing a lot better today, so you can stop worrying that pretty little head of yours.”
Her brows arched. “Easier said than done.”
Pushing his food around in the dish, Ryder said, “It occurs to me that I might not have made it if you hadn’t picked me up and helped me get those antibiotics. We call that a life debt.” His gaze rose to meet hers. “I won’t forget it.”
Setting down a large plate of eggs and toast in front of him, she just shook her head. “I don’t know anything about life debts. Just do me a favor and don’t get yourself shot again.”
Ryder went back to his food. Taking a huge bite, he remarked pleasantly, “I’ll try, doll. For you, I swear that I’ll try my very best.”
That seemed to perk her up again. “Maybe we can spend some time outdoors,” she suggested. “Fresh air might help you feel better.”
“I’d like that,” Ryder mused. “I don’t get the opportunity to just enjoy life very often.” And after the rough couple of days he’d had, the fresh air might do him good.
“I bought a couple of prepaid phones, in case you want to contact anyone.”
Damn this woman… She’d thought of everything. Thinking of everything that needed to be done, he said, “I’ll call my club and you can call your family. We have to keep it short and to the point though. Then we remove the batteries so they can’t be traced.”
“I’ll leave that to your good judgment. I don’t want to do anything to draw that frightening man to us again.” She visibly shivered, and Ryder hated that he’d dragged her into this.
“Thanks for not giving me a hassle about it,” he said sincerely. “Most women wouldn’t like being cut off from their friends and family.”
“I don’t have any other place for us to go. If he figures out we’re here, we’re kind of screwed.” Her nose scrunched up. “Nothing’s more important to me than you getting well right now. Last night was my last at St. Mary’s anyway. I was planning a relocation to a smaller city with more employment options. Competition for full-time jobs in this area is fierce.”
That was surprising to hear. “How is it you have so many nurses around these parts. Back home nurses are scarce.”
“I’ll bet they get paid well in that case. We have a couple of colleges that crank them out near St. Mary’s. I’ve thought about relocating for a long time. I always wanted to work in a private practice, but since they’re choice positions, they fill up fast.”
“It’s always good to nose around a little, if only to see what else is available,” he agreed.
“So, what exactly do you do?” she asked, making small talk.
“I work full time for my club. We have several businesses all in a row.”
“You mean like an old-fashioned strip mall?”
“I guess that’s what it’s called.” He shrugged. “We have a garage, a coffee house, and a hair salon.”
“Your biker’s club owns a hair salon?” She sounded surprised.
“Don’t laugh,” he said, barely holding his own back. “It’s a nice little moneymaker. We own the shop and rent out the spaces to different girls who bring their own clientele.”
“It sounds like your club is pretty business savvy,” she said, sounding impressed. He liked that. He wanted her to see them as the good guys, even if they weren’t quite there yet.
“We’re trying to transition out of most of our illegal jobs,” he informed her.
“Why the change?”
“We thought about it one day and decided that, in the last few years, the drugs and guns have created more problems than they’ve solved. Why risk jail time when we can make money like everyone else?”
She hummed beneath her breath. “I’d tend to agree.”
“Hell, I want to be honest,” Ryder said, dropping his spoon and sitting back. If there was any chance in hell of them working out, she needed to know exactly what she was getting into. “We’ll probably continue to do an occasional illegal job. It’s all about risk verses reward. If the risk is low and the reward high, we might get on board.”
Her eyes held his, and if she was upset by his admission, she hadn’t yet started running. Ryder took that as a good sign.
Smiling at him, Tiffany shook her head. “It’s refreshing to hear someone being honest. You don’t realize what a rarity that is these days.”
“Don’t start thinking of me as a damned boy scout or anything,” he warned her.
“You killed a man and have a demented killer hunting you because of it,” she pointed out. “I’m not likely to forget how dangerous you can be.”
“Yea, well, we don’t grieve women. I know some clubs treat their chicks like garbage. We don’t.” He needed her to understand that too. Where he came from, women weren’t property to be used and abused. They were a partner, someone to be loved and respected.
She nodded, growing quiet for a moment before switching gears. “I noticed your tattoos. The one on your back looks like the on
e on your jacket. Is it your club’s logo?”
“It sure is,” he said with a proud smile. “I helped design it almost ten years ago. Got the idea from a picture I saw in a book at a tattoo parlor. That’s when the Blind Jacks MC was born.”
“I like hearing you talk about your club. Your face lights up.” She met his eyes briefly before dipping her head and digging into her own meal.
Ryder’s chest puffed, enjoying that bit of shyness about her before he tucked back into his own too.
As he shoveled food in his face, he talked about things he’d never told any living soul. “In the beginning, it was just five of us: me, my two brothers, my best friend, and another man. We grew up riding motorcycles. My father owned a tattoo parlor, so we knew all the local charters. It seemed natural to form our own. We were real badasses back then and got a reputation quicker than most. We thought we were pretty hot stuff back then.”
Smiling at him, Tiffany interjected, “I’m sure you were. Hell, you’re hot stuff now.”
Laughing, Ryder shook his head. “Wasn’t the kind of hot stuff I was referring to, doll.”
When they finished eating, they took their coffee outside and continued talking as they enjoyed the warm autumn day.
For the first time, Ryder could see himself settling down and making a family of his own. Tiffany was easier to talk to than any woman he’d ever met. That she was smart, funny, and easy on the eyes was a nice little bonus. She was also a go-getter. She’d scooped him up and made shit happen last night, instead of waiting for him to do everything. That had been pretty damn amazing.
A man like him would be lucky to score a girl like her as his ol’ lady.
Forcing Ryder to slow down was no easy task. Turned out the magical combination involved begging, bribing, and a dash of kissing. Tiffany filed away that bit of information for future reference as she went out back to chop some kindling. This was the one chore she always loved growing up. There was something relaxing about taking small pieces of wood and chopping them into even smaller pieces. Her mind drifted as she got a couple of smaller logs and her grandfather’s hatchet.