K-9's Fight Page 8

  “The fact you say you’re fine means anything but fine,” he grouches, bringing a hand to my waist. “Don’t worry, I’ll find out what’s buggin’ you soon as Derick leaves.” K-9 leans in to brush his lips against my own for a small, but nevertheless wonderful kiss.

  “Gramps, Grams,” Derick yells loudly. You can hear his feet stomping as he runs down the hallway.

  “Hey, little man,” Nick says, stepping in further after closing the door behind him and Lisa. Kneeling down, he scoops Derick into his arms when my son makes it to him. “Swear you’ve grown since the last time I saw you.”

  “I missed you, Gramps,” Derick giggles and throws his arms around Nick’s neck.

  “Missed you too, little man,” Nick murmurs, cupping the back of my son’s head.

  “Hey, what about me, mister. Doesn’t Grams get any sugar, or you giving it all to Gramps?” Lisa snickers.

  Derick pulls back from Nick and launches himself at Lisa. “I got plenty of sugar, Grams.” His little announcement makes all of us laugh.

  Nick looks at me and grins. “We’ll have him back tomorrow afternoon at some point.”

  “Okay, just call or text me when you’re on the way,” I nod.

  I turn the burner down on the stove, not wanting to burn the sauce, and move to them all quickly to give both Lisa and Nick a hug. I take Derick in my arms for a moment to give him love before relinquishing him to K-9, who does the same.

  Once they leave, I make sure the sauce is finished and pour it onto the spaghetti noodles. I can all but feel K-9’s eyes roaming over my body while I throw the shredded cheese on top. Turning, I open the oven door. I reach out, grab the dish, and slide it into place. I barely have the door closed before K-9 has me in his arms—his front pressing into my back.

  “Now it’s just you and me, Belly. Tell me what’s on your mind,” he growls into my ear. He steers us to the living room and adjusts us on the couch, so I straddle his waist.

  The t-shirt dress I’m wearing gives him easy access to my ass. During the summer, I love wearing dresses, because it’s always hot and humid. Sometimes though, I think about the fact I should’ve put on a pair of shorts or leggings.

  “Dylan, I have dinner in the oven,” I whisper his name and pull my bottom lip between my teeth.

  “Yeah, I know. It takes about twenty minutes to finish, so that gives me time to find out what’s going on in your head before dinner so after I can focus on fuckin’ you all night,” K-9 chuckles.

  “Is that all you think about? Sex?” I snap without meaning to.

  “Anabelle, when it comes to you, I think about every damn thing, and fuckin’ sinking my cock into you is always at the top of that list.” He grins. “Now tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, baby.”

  “I want to help with the bills. Derick and I have been living here for a month now, and I haven’t seen any come in. I can’t not . . .”

  “No,” K-9 interrupts me.

  “Dylan . . .” I try again.

  “No, Anabelle.” K-9 tightens his grip on my waist, keeping me in place when I would have moved from his lap. “You work. I get it. I know you wanna help out, but you also need to get that I’m not gonna have you takin’ care of me with money. I take care of you and Derick. You wanna do something, you handle the groceries and buying things around here we need. I handle the bills. The house is paid off, so it’s not like everything is a shit load each month.”

  “But I want to . . .” Again, he stops me. This time with bringing a hand up from my waist to tangle in my hair. K-9’s mouth comes to mine. His tongue slips into my mouth, stopping our conversation altogether.

  I slide my hands up his chest and around his neck. Our kiss heats up to the point I start grinding myself over his cock—trying to escape its confinement.

  As he readjusts us, placing me on my back, all thoughts of dinner leave my mind. All I want is to stay right here where I am for the rest of the evening with him inside me. Nothing else in this moment matters.

  Chapter Fifteen

  K-9

  “Son of a bitch.” I fuckin’ hate working on piece of shit cars some days. I don’t have a problem when it comes to fixing cars. I’m damn good at it. But when a customer brings in a beater expecting shit to work like brand new, it pisses me off.

  A hooptie is a fuckin’ hooptie. Nothing is going to change that shit.

  “What’s going on, brother?” Hades chuckles, coming over to stand near my bay.

  “Stupid ass compressor is stuck, and whoever worked on this shit last stripped the bolts on nearly everything in here,” I grumble, stepping back from the damn car. “The owner just needs to pour some gas over the whole thing and light it on fire.”

  I wipe my hands and let out a deep breath. This shit fuckin’ sucks ass.

  “Come on, man, it’s the end of the day. Let’s wrap this shit up,” Hades says, clapping me on my shoulder.

  “Yeah, I’ll deal with this shit box tomorrow,” I grunt and toss the rag on top of my toolbox. Pulling out my phone, I check the time and quickly put it back in my pocket. Anabelle isn’t supposed to get off for another two hours, and Derick is staying with my parents.

  I sometimes think my nephew spends more time with everyone else instead of Anabelle and me at home. The kid has so much family, and they all want to see him when they can. I suppose he never had to go anywhere when my woman lived at the house with her brother and Mackenzie. Now that she’s with me, they don’t get to see him like they are used to.

  “Good plan.” Hades and I talk while I finish cleaning up my bay. We’re laughing about something Red and Wolf did at the clubhouse the other day when my phone rings. I reach into the front pocket of my jeans and pull it out to see who’s calling me.

  Anabelle.

  I grin and answer it. “Hey, baby, you getting off early or something. You never call me while working.” She isn’t supposed to make any calls while on the clock.

  “Hey, no, I’m not off yet, but I needed to call you. Striker’s been brought into the ER. He was in an accident . . .”

  “I’m on my way,” I inform her before she can finish giving me any more information. I hang up and look at Hades. “Striker’s been in an accident.”

  “Fuck, all right, let’s get to the hospital and find out what happened,” Hades grumbles and heads for the doors. Pulling out his own phone, I’m sure to call Twister or Horse to let them know about Striker.

  I can’t believe this shit. Striker is one hell of a rider. Something had to have happened for him to be taken out. The man has never been in an accident. Striker is a professional motocross rider—used to have sponsors and all that shit.

  Swinging a leg over my bike, I switch her on and head for the hospital. Something isn’t right about this whole mess, and I want to make sure my brother is good.

  With the garage not being too far from the hospital, it doesn’t take Hades and me any time at all to get there. Some of our other brothers meet us at the entrance. Twister and Horse are among them. Together we all walk into the waiting room.

  Gadget and Dragon go to the desk to speak to the nurse sitting there. With their ol’ lady being a doctor with privileges at the hospital, they’re both known by the staff here.

  The waiting room is packed, and I don’t want to bother Anabelle, so I pull out my phone to text her.

  Me: In the waiting room with my brothers. If we’re still here when you get off. Don’t leave without me.

  Sending the text, I shove the phone back in my pocket and focus on my brothers. Gadget and Dragon are heading in our direction now and they both have a grimace on their faces.

  “What did they say?” Twister demands, the look on his face is a telltale sign he’s pissed and on the verge of losing his shit.

  “Striker’s in surgery right now. They have to go in and fix his leg,” Gadget grunts.

  “Fuck. Do we know what happened?” Horse asks.

  “No, but I’ve sent the prospect with a wrecker t
o get Striker’s bike,” Hades growls. “I don’t like this. Something stinks about it.”

  “We haven’t had problems in a while now,” Thorn adds.

  “Gadget, I want you to see if you can’t find anything out about the accident. See if you can’t pick up anything on the cameras. Red, go talk to Stevens at the police department to see if he knows anything,” Twister orders.

  Both brothers nod and leave the hospital. The rest of us take seats to wait for answers. Time ticks by slowly, patients keep rolling in, and I swear the place is chaotic as hell. How can Anabelle stand working in this atmosphere? I get she loves her job, but damn, it would be way too damn stressful for me.

  Pulling out my phone, I check the time. Anabelle should be off by now, but she hasn’t texted me back. Frowning, I stand up from my chair and head for the check-in desk.

  “Hey, is there something I can help you with?” the nurse asks with a smile.

  “Yes, I’m trying to see if Anabelle is still working in the back,” I inform her.

  “Sure, let me find out for you.” Picking up the phone, she calls the nurse’s station in the back and asks them about Anabelle. A minute later, she replaces the phone and looks at me. “Anabelle just clocked out maybe five minutes ago. She told one of the nurses she was just running out to her car really quick to grab a change of clothes.”

  “Thank you,” I say and go back to my brothers. “Hey, Anabelle’s off. I’m gonna step outside see if I can catch her out there.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Hades mutters. “I need some fresh air anyway.”

  “Same here,” Twister grunts, standing.

  A few others nod and join us.

  My gut is telling me something isn’t right. I just don’t know what it is yet.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Anabelle

  I swear there’s a full moon or something coming our way with all the chaos swarming around the ER. Ever since I’d started my shift this morning, it’s been non-stop. I was lucky enough to go to the bathroom long enough to call K-9 to let him know about Striker.

  I wanted to go out to the waiting room when K-9 texted me, but I didn’t get a chance. We were that busy. Several people came into the ER with broken bones, but worse, we had those who were in an accident. After Striker came in, his leg bone protruding through his skin, I knew something bad had happened. He didn’t just wreck his bike.

  I’ve known the guy for years now. He’s always been nice to me, even in his own cocky way. I feel horrible for him, though. Someone needs to call his little sister, Lila, and tell her. She’s sixteen and lives with Striker. According to Lila, she’s been living with him since she was ten and Striker found both their parents on the couch high while doing other things.

  I feel for the girl. The one constant person in her life is now in surgery, but I know he’ll make it through this. It’ll just take some time for him to get back to being able to ride his bike again.

  Once I’m able to knock off for the night, I’m relieved. I decide to run out to my car really quick and grab my spare change of clothes. I always keep a set in the back just in case.

  I glance at the time and decide to just go grab my stuff and come back in to join K-9 in the waiting room. With a quick pace, I make my way through the sliding doors leading from the back entrance of the ER to the parking lot.

  I make it to my car and grab my stuff when a sudden sense of unease hits me. Holding my bag of clothes in my hands, I turn and lock my car behind me only to come face to face with Trevor.

  Oh no.

  I haven’t seen him since that night I went to his house after I’d moved in next door.

  Damnit, this isn’t good.

  “Hey, baby, long time no see,” he chuckles, a sadistic smile on his face.

  “I’m not your baby. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back into the hospital.” I go to walk past him, but he steps into my space, blocking me. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice several of his guys are surrounding me.

  Shit, this is definitely not good.

  I should have told K-9 I was coming out here to get my clothes.

  God, I’m so stupid.

  “How about you stay out here and play nurse with me instead?” Trevor suggests, and his little minions’ cackles send chills down my spine.

  “Move, Trevor. I don’t want to have to call out for security.” I try not to let him see the fear in my eyes.

  “Go ahead, baby, try it,” he sneers, taking a step closer to me. “I’ve been thinking about you and that sweet as hell body you got going on since you came to my place. It’s a shame you have to be the enemies whore.”

  Trevor runs the backs of his fingers along my bare arm up underneath my scrubs. He grabs the material from inside my arm and pulls at the collar yanking on it before pushing me backward until I stumble. Two of his men catch me and wrap their fingers tightly around my arms with a bruising grip.

  “Shouldn’t have let them turn you into a whore, baby. You could have been mine,” Trevor announces, pulling out a switchblade knife and twirls it in his hands. “Now I’m gonna use you to relay a message for me.”

  “Wh—What message?” I stammer. The blood in my veins roars in my ears, and my heart feels like it’s thundering in my chest. This isn’t good. I’m scared, and I wish I could scream out for K-9. I know he’s in the ER’s waiting room.

  Trevor laughs, bringing the switchblade to rest between my breasts. “It’s not one you can really say but rather show.” The knife cuts through my scrub top, exposing my black lacy bra. I fight against the men holding my arms to cover myself, but their grip is too tight. It hurts. Trailing the back of his fingers along my skin between my breasts, I fight the tears trying to spill as he brings the blade up to cut the fabric in half.

  “No, please,” I cry, pleading for him to stop.

  “Now, why would I do that?” he chuckles. “I like the sound of you begging me. Maybe I should make you beg me to jump my dick like you did with your piece of shit man.”

  I shake my head—barely able to see through the tears in my eyes.

  Someone calls my name, and I swear it’s K-9’s voice.

  Trevor stills the blade against my skin. I let out a breath in relief when he pulls it away from me. I find myself suddenly released from his minions’ grasps. They shove me with enough force to send me to the ground. I land on my wrist and know right away I’ve snapped it.

  I look up through the tears to see K-9 and Trevor circling each other. “Should have left well enough alone,” K-9 snarls.

  “Oh, you should know me better than that K-9,” Trevor snickers twirling the switchblade in his hands. “Your bitch should have been mine a long time ago. That was Derick’s way out. He was supposed to give her to me. He died keeping me from taking her.”

  What the hell?

  “My brother would have never given up what’s mine,” K-9 sneers.

  “And that is why he’s dead. You and your club better watch your backs cause I’m coming for you next,” Trevor says, grinning maliciously.

  K-9 launches himself at Trevor only to have a van come between the two of them. Trevor and his minions jump into the blacked-out van before speeding out of the parking lot.

  “Fucker is a dead man,” Twister growls, his eyes coming to me. “You okay, Anabelle?”

  I go to get up, but the pain in my hand radiates up my arm. I’m using my other hand to hold my scrub top closed.

  “Belly,” K-9 calls my name as he comes to crouch down in front of me. “Tell me, are you okay?”

  Tears well in my eyes, and I shake my head, unable to speak.

  “It’s gonna be okay. Let’s get you back inside. They’ll look at your wrist,” he murmurs, helping me to my feet and kissing the top of my head.

  Nodding, I allow him to guide me into the hospital. I feel all kinds of a fool for not just going to him when I got off and wanting to change my clothes. This is all my fault.

  Chapter Seventeen

  K-9r />
  My blood boils as the vision of Trevor holding a knife to Anabelle’s chest sears itself into my brain. I’ll never get the sight out of my head. Standing next to the gurney where my woman is now sitting, resting thanks to her co-workers giving her a sedative, I contemplate what the bastard had said to me.

  I knew my brother had a problem back when we lived in Stonewall Mills. My brother told me the High 7’s wanted him when they ran into him one time. I remember Derick telling me about it. How he’d refused them, but they didn’t give up. He told me the only way they would leave him alone is giving up Anabelle. This I didn’t understand at the time, but I think I’m getting it now.

  Anabelle is Lex’s sister. She also has a connection to each of her brother’s friends. Tanner in particular. Tanner was jumped by them several years ago, because he refused to pay his father’s debts. I don’t blame him for not paying. It’s his father’s drug debt, not Tanner’s.

  Now though, Anabelle isn’t just connected to Tanner. She’s connected to the club. She would be a perfect target for them to go after.

  Fuck.

  The curtain to the cubical is pulled back by Lex. He steps in with Twister and Horse behind him.

  “She okay, brother?” Horse asks, nodding in Anabelle’s direction.

  “Yeah, they gave her a sedative to help calm her nerves. She’s friends with all the nurses here, it seems, and told the charge nurse she was attacked outside as well as her wrist possibly being broken. The woman said she would call Connors and ask her to order all of what Anabelle would need,” I inform them. They’d brought a portable machine in here to take the x-rays confirming Anabelle’s words.

  “Shit, I’m sorry,” Twister grimaces.

  “Not on you, Prez,” I grunt and look back to my woman. “Trevor’s started a war by coming at Anabelle.”

  “Yeah, he did. Izzy doesn’t take to women very often. The only ones being the ol’ ladies of the club, but she adores Anabelle. We all do. No one fucks with one of ours.” Twister meets my gaze, and I can sense the rage pouring through his eyes. “I’m callin’ church in the morning. We’ve got a lot of shit to go over.”