Crash & Carnage by Emma Slate

Chapter 13

It was official.I was off my rocker. Certifiable.

Even after a few hours of sleep, my ability to think rationally hadn’t been restored. It had effectively left the building. It was MIA, and it was never coming back.

I shouldn’t be doing this, I thought silently as I stared at my reflection.

But my reflection no longer looked like me.

I’d left my blonde hair down, and I’d curled it into big waves to brush across my shoulders and down my back. My makeup made my blue eyes pop, and my lips were bright red.

But it was the outfit that was truly out of my norm.

I was in a pair of black leather pants that fit me like a second skin, and I wore a black Harley Davidson tank top.

“You look perfect,” Freddy said as she sat on the edge of my bed.

I glanced at her. Her platinum bob was pinned in perfect 1950s curls and her high-waisted jeans showed off her curves. She wore green espadrilles the same shade as her blouse.

“I look like I’m dressed up to go to a Halloween party,” I stated. “I’m thirty years old. I’m too old to be doing this.”

“Doing what, exactly?” she asked.

“Too old to be making a fool of myself,” I scoffed. “Forget it. I’m not going.”

“Oh, hell no. You’re going.” She grinned.

“I guess it was good fortune there was a party tonight,” I muttered. “I’m suddenly terrified.”

“Don’t be. Boxer won’t be able to resist you.”

“Why are you helping me do this?” I asked her. “I mean, it’s more than just your affinity for Boxer. It has to be.”

She paused and then boldly met my gaze. “I told you he never brought a woman into Pinky’s?” When I nodded, she went on, “I’ve seen him at parties. He laughs, he flirts, he sleeps around.”

I winced.

“Sorry, I’m just trying to paint you a picture of who he is most of the time.”

“You didn’t have to be so honest,” I mumbled, feeling stupid and girly, not wanting to hear about his escapades.

“I’m not finished,” she said in amusement, a smile flashing across her red pouty lips. “Ever since he got out of the hospital, he’s been different.”

I frowned. “Different? Different how?”

“Different like not drinking, not partying, not being his normal unruly self.”

“I told him to take it easy and let his body recover.”

She shook her head. “It’s more than that. He’s changed.”

“What am I supposed to do with that information?” I asked.

Freddy shrugged. “No idea. I just know the Boxer that went into the hospital came out a very different man. He told me he almost died during surgery?”

I nodded.

“He said it casually. Like it was an afterthought, but he never seemed… I don’t know. He’s a biker. He lives hard and fast. But it was like this got inside him somehow. Shook him deep.”

“I’ve witnessed countless patients who’ve looked death in the face and walked away with their lives. Facing death changes a person.”

“It might’ve been facing death,” she agreed. “Or it might’ve been you. You’re the one that saved his life.”

The hopeful side of me wanted to believe Freddy. Every woman, whether they admitted it or not, wanted to be someone’s exception to the rule.

“Let’s go,” she said. “We have a bit of a drive. You can follow me. I know the way.”

“Freddy? What if this doesn’t go the way I hope?”

“Then I’ll bail on Bishop and we’ll stay the night at a shitty motel in Waco and drink ourselves silly.”

“Who’s Bishop?” I asked with a sudden smile.

“Bishop is vice president of the Coeur d’Alene Blue Angels. They’re tight with the Waco Blue Angels, and they frequently visit each other and party. I met Bishop a few months ago when he was in town and he came into Pinky’s with Boxer. We’ve got a thing, but only when he’s in Waco. It’s casual.”

“Ah, now I know the real reason you’re willing to drive all the way out there. This has nothing to do with helping me,” I teased.

By the time we got to the clubhouse, it was after nine. Nerves danced in my stomach, and my palms were clammy.

Freddy drove up to the brightly lit gate, guarded by two men in leather I didn’t recognize. They waved her through and then did the same to me. I parked next to her on a gravel parking lot. She cut the engine and then immediately climbed out. I was slower to follow.

I was surprised by the number of cars that were parked, but more so the fact that none of them were busted or looked like they needed to be impounded. Motorcycles were angled along the grassy lawn but not in a haphazard manner. They’d been cared for and were clean, and some of them looked very expensive.

Freddy marched up toward the large brown house that resembled a lodge, not even waiting to see if I was behind her. Bright lights illuminated the exterior, and there were cameras up above the door.

The cool autumn air nipped at my skin, but my blood ran hot. I was about to come face to face with a man I’d screwed in the living room of my condo among the shattered remains of my kitchenware during an emotional storm.

With a deep breath, I steeled my spine, forced a bravado I didn’t feel, and entered the clubhouse. The foyer immediately opened into an extra spacious kitchen and living room with a long couch and a few recliners. Counter space was congested with bottles of alcohol and mixers. There wasn’t any food.

It was empty except for two women who were sitting in the loungers. Both wore heavy makeup and had teased hair. I heard the thumping base of speakers farther in the back.

“Freddy!” The brunette got off the couch and came toward us. She was tall, her smile friendly.

“Hey, Rachel.” Freddy hugged the woman and then said, “This is Linden.”

The woman blinked, and then her smile turned into a knowing grin. “Oh, so this is Linden.”

She clearly knew who I was and yet didn’t seem at all surprised to see me in the Blue Angels clubhouse.

“Nice to meet you,” I said.

“You too.” She took my arm and dragged me over toward the couch. She pointed to the diminutive bottle blonde who sat in one of the recliners with a baby blanket covering her front. “That’s Allison nursing the newest Blue Angel.”

Allison looked at me and smiled. “Hi.”

I couldn’t help but smile back.

“Do you want something to drink?” Freddy asked me.

“No, I’m good,” I said.

“You sure?” Freddy raised her brows like she didn’t believe me.

“Yep,” I promised. I didn’t want the addition of booze in my blood adding to my already emotional state.

Freddy moved to the counter of alcohol and mixers.

“Allison came inside to feed the tiny tot,” Rachel explained. “I came inside because the woodsmoke from the bonfire is making me nauseous.”

I frowned, and then understanding dawned. “Oh, are you pregnant?”

“Yeah.” She smiled. “That’s right, you’re a doctor.” She pulled her loose tank tighter across her belly showing a slight bump. “I miss the days of wearing tight as fuck pants. Now everything feels squashed down there.” She scanned my legs. “You’re rocking the Bad Sandy look. I approve.”

“Thanks,” I said in genuine appreciation. “I was nervous about it.”

“Don’t be. You look great,” Allison added.

“This bunch doesn’t lie,” Freddy said. “You can trust their word.”

“I’m glad to finally meet you for myself,” Rachel said. “Boxer told us about what happened during his surgery—about his pressure dropping. Thank you for everything you did for him and for saving his life.”

“I’m glad it turned out the way it did,” I said truthfully.

“How’d you enjoy the steak and mashed potatoes?” Rachel asked with a wink.

“He’s never brought a girl food,” Allison added.

I looked at Freddy who was grinning. She shrugged. “Told ya. Different.”

“So different,” Rachel said. “Like, he became an adult overnight or something. Freakin’ weird if you ask me.”

“Are there any secrets among you guys?” I demanded, smiling in exasperation.

“No,” Allison piped up. “We’re family. We’re in each other’s business all the time.”

“Hmm. You remind me of the nurses I work with,” I said, my tone dry. “They’ve made it their mission to meddle.”

“We don’t meddle. We don’t,” Rachel insisted when Allison looked at her and raised her brows. “Boxer didn’t tell us you were coming.”

“He doesn’t know,” I said. “I wanted to surprise him.”

“He’s out back,” Allison volunteered.

“Let’s go,” Freddy said, gesturing with her chin to the hallway.

I waved at them. “It was nice to meet you both.”

“You too,” Allison said, looking from me to the infant at her breast.

“Yeah, you’re cool,” Rachel said.

As I followed Freddy down the hallway past closed doors, I heard the unmistakable sounds of couples in rapture. None of them seemed to care that they only had the illusion of privacy, then again, judging by the noises, they were clearly enjoying themselves and I doubted they were thinking about what others thought of them.

The music grew louder the closer we got to the backyard. Freddy pushed open the screen door and stepped out into the night. A large bonfire had been lit and flames danced toward the sky. Men and women stood in clusters holding drinks, laughing, and talking. Some were perched on logs and camp chairs in front of the fire.

I quickly scanned the area, searching for Boxer, but I didn’t see him.

“He’s at the picnic table by the fence,” Freddy said.

I looked where she pointed and felt an emotional knife stab in my chest. “He’s…not alone.” A woman was hanging on his arm, running her fingers through his hair.

And she was hot.

She sighed. “Sorry, I had no idea, I didn’t think he’d—”

“It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I’m fine, Freddy. I swear.”

“Yeah, you look fine. Might want to uncurl those fists, unless you’re planning on punching him. Or her, if that’s your thing…”

I released my clenched hands.

“I know you said no booze, but trust me, I think you need it.” She handed me her red Solo Cup. I took a sip and nearly choked. “What the hell is that?”

She grinned. “Apple pie moonshine. You’re welcome.”

“You guys are nuts.”

I watched another woman approach Boxer, her hands reaching out for him. When she got to his side, her fingers danced up and down his body. I expected to see his face light with excitement and good cheer, but he was ignoring both the women fawning all over him. He held a bottle of liquor but didn’t make a move to drink from it.

He looked…lonely. And morose.

I handed Freddy her cup and then walked confidently toward the picnic table.

He didn’t even turn to see who was approaching, like he didn’t care.

Yup. Definitely morose.

This was not the Boxer I thought I knew.

“Hey,” the insanely hot woman greeted as I approached.

“Love your pants,” the other said.

“Thanks,” I said, surprised that they were being nice to me. I’d expected cat claws to come out since I was about to interrupt their fun time with Boxer.

Boxer’s head whipped around. Without taking his eyes off me, he said to the women, “Trish, Tanya, our Coeur D’Alene boys had a hard ride down here. Why don’t you go keep them company?”

“Ohhh, look, Knight’s alone,” one of the women said.

They exchanged a look and then clasped hands and all but skipped toward a cluster of men in leather. They didn’t seem at all upset about switching allegiances.

“They’re…friendly,” I said.

“The friendliest.”

“Sorry I ruined a sure thing.” I gestured with my chin.

He lifted the bottle of liquor to his lips but didn’t reply.

“Guess you’re no longer following my rules.”

“What rules would those be?” he pressed.

“The drinking rules.”

“Well, I had really vigorous sex a few days ago, so I figured that made all the other rules null and void. Plus, I fired you as my doctor, remember?”

“I remember,” I repeated, flushing when I thought of our night together. “What are you drinking?”

“Bourbon.”

“Ick.”

“Not ick.” He held it out to me. “Try it.”

“After the moonshine Freddy gave me, I’m good.”

He paused. “Why are you here, Linden?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“You could’ve called. You didn’t have to stalk me.”

“I didn’t stalk you,” I said, voice angry. “And I did call you.”

“No, you didn’t,” he insisted.

I reached into my purse and pulled out my phone. I scrolled through my recent call list and handed it to him.

He looked down at the screen. “You called me.”

“Yup. You didn’t call me back.”

“Lost my phone somewhere on the ride up to Idaho.” He looked at me and handed my phone back.

“You’ve been riding your motorcycle?”

“Of course,” he drawled. “Why did you contact me?”

“I don’t like how things ended that night.”

“Told you not to feel guilty about it, Doc.”

His expression was placid, but I knew there was something lurking beneath the surface.

Maybe it was the leather pants, maybe it was the fact that I didn’t know who I was anymore, but I faced him and said, “I don’t like that things ended at all.”