Page 6 of Doc
“Got it.”I turned to walk away but paused.“If she’s anything like Bats, she’s not going to let this go.”
Savior grunted.“Then let’s hope they aren’t anything alike.”
I walked out, having this sinking feeling things weren’t going to go his way.
Chapter Two
Nova
I woke before dawn, my body stiff from the unfamiliar mattress.Mom’s research called to me from where I’d stacked it on the small desk, the weight of unfinished business pressing on my chest like a physical thing.Sleep wasn’t coming back, not with my mind racing through possibilities and connections.I gathered the notebook and my notes and quietly made my way to the clubhouse.The President had said I needed to stay at the compound.He hadn’t said anything about remaining in the apartment.
The main room of the clubhouse was nearly empty at this hour, just a lone Prospect mopping the floors and an older member passed out on one of the couches.Neither looked up as I slipped through the room, heading for a corner table partially hidden by a support beam.Perfect -- visible enough that I wouldn’t seem like I was hiding but tucked away enough to avoid being the center of attention.
I opened Mom’s notebook.My fingers traced her familiar script, the loops of her g’s and y’s so distinctive I could almost hear her voice in my head, explaining her theories the way she used to at our kitchen table.
“You have to follow the money, Nova,” she’d say.“People lie.Numbers don’t.”
The Prospect finished his mopping and disappeared into the back, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the soft snores of the sleeping biker.I pulled out my own notebook, jotting down connections I spotted between public officials and businesses mentioned repeatedly in Mom’s notes.RH Enterprises showed up six times.Magnolia County Commissioner Blake appeared circled in three separate articles.I didn’t know what it all meant yet, but I intended to find out.By the time the sun had fully risen, more club members began filtering in.Some nodded in my direction, a curt acknowledgment of my existence without extending any real welcome.Others pretended not to see me at all, heading straight for the coffeepot or the bar, depending on their particular morning preferences.
I kept my head down, pretending to be absorbed in my work while acutely aware of the whispers just beyond my hearing.My fingers trembled slightly as I sorted through a stack of newspaper clippings about missing evidence in drug cases from the last five years.Mom had highlighted the names of the officers involved, drawing lines between those who appeared multiple times.
“That’s Bats’ niece?”I heard someone mutter, but not quietly enough.
“Says she is.”
I pressed my lips together, forcing myself to focus on the papers in front of me rather than the conversations around me.The clubhouse had filled considerably in the hour since I’d come down, the morning routine of a motorcycle club unfolding around my little island of isolation.
I heard the voices of women outside, one screeching about why she couldn’t come in.As much as I wanted to go see what was going on, I remained in my spot, doing my best to mind my own business.
Two older members took seats at the bar.One of them -- gray-bearded with a hook-shaped scar beneath his left eye -- kept looking in my direction between sips of coffee.
“President says we’re looking into it.”He made no effort to lower his voice.“Girl’s got some theory about her parents’ accident.”
The other man -- shaved head with forearms covered in fading tattoos -- snorted.“And that’s our problem why, exactly?”
“She’s Bats’ blood,” Hook-scar replied firmly.“That counts for something in my book.”
“Blood don’t mean shit if it brings heat,” Baldy countered.“From the conversations I had with Bats, seems like Mary-Jane was always poking hornets’ nests.Look where it got her.Now her kid shows up wanting us to pick up where Mommy left off?Pass.”
I kept my gaze on my papers, but my hands had stopped moving.My throat tightened as I tried to maintain my composure.They were talking about my mother like they knew her -- maybe they had.One of them had met her before and had talked to my uncle about her.The thought made my chest ache with questions I hadn’t even considered.How much of Mom’s life had I not known about?
“Bats would’ve wanted us to help her,” Hook-scar insisted.“You know he would.”
“Bats would’ve wanted us to stay out of it,” Baldy shot back.“Why you think he kept them separate all those years?He knew the score.Club business is club business.Family’s family.You don’t mix the two unless you want both to end up bloody.”
I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to turn around and defend myself.These men didn’t know me.They didn’t know what I’d been through since my parents died, searching for answers while looking over my shoulder.They didn’t know about the nightmares, the panic attacks, the constant fear that whoever had killed my parents would come for me next.And even if I didn’t have facts to prove it, my gut told me they were murdered.
The clubhouse door opened, letting in a shaft of morning sunlight along with Doc.He wore the same cut as yesterday, but beneath it was a plain gray T-shirt rather than the button-up I’d last seen him in.A medical bag hung over his shoulder, and his dark hair was still damp from a shower.He scanned the room, his gaze landing on me before shifting to the two men at the bar.
Something in his expression hardened as he caught the tail end of their conversation.He moved toward them with purpose in his stride, stopping directly between them and fixing each with a stern look that seemed at odds with his youthful face.
“Problem, gentlemen?”His voice remained low but carried enough for me to hear.
Both men straightened slightly, despite Doc clearly being younger than either of them.There was something in his posture, a quiet authority that demanded respect.
“Just having a conversation,” Hook-scar said mildly.
“Find somewhere else to have it.”Doc’s accent sounded more pronounced in the early hour.“Or better yet, find something useful to do with yourselves.”
