Page 17 of Ice
“You wanted this appointment, Ice.”
He cursed under his breath, apologising to whoever he was with, a gruff voice responding to him in kind.
“I did. I do. Look, I’m really sorry. Shit happened here at the club, and uh… Jesus. I could try and get a taxi or something, but I don’t think I’ll make it in time either way. Fuck. Normally someone drives me. Reacher won’t let me on my fucking bike yet.”
Wow. He really did sound keen to meet up for his session. Today was supposed to be my day off. We normally worked three or four days a week, taking time for other responsibilities, or recuperating from the hell we are privy to in our job. I’d gone in specially for his appointment.
“I could come to you.”
The words were out of my mouth before I realised what I was saying.
He was silent for a moment.
“You’d come here? To the clubhouse?”
Shit. A clubhouse? That didn’t sound very private.
“Is there a private space where we can talk? Otherwise, I can uh… rearrange some things.” Why didn’t I just tell him that I had no other appointments, because I’d given up my personal time for him. Why did I even keep doing that?
“Doc?”
I cleared my throat. “Uh… yeah. I could come there. Text me the address, and I’ll head straight to you.”
He was silent for a moment.
“Wow, thank you. I’m… I’m so grateful for this, Doc.”
“Call me Lissa. Oh god, no, wait. I shouldn’t… Dammit. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Gotcha. Thanks, Doc.”
I’m such a moron. This isn’t a fucking date. Call me Lissa? What the hell was that? I checked the address he sent within seconds of the call ending, and grabbed my things, heading back out of my office.
“Everything okay, Lissa?” I nodded at Cammy.
“Yeah. He uh… called to apologise, but he got held up. I don’t have anything else, so I’ll carry on with my day off. Unless I’m needed?” Please say no. Why was I pretending that I was going home? Why was I hiding the fact that I was visiting him? Wasn’t that exactly the proof I needed that what I was doing was wrong?
She shook her head, waving me away.
“Dickhead shouldn’t make appointments he can’t keep, and you shouldn’t book them on your day off. Get out of here, woman.”
I made it to my car, and sat for a moment. Was I really doing this? Driving to a biker clubhouse, for an appointment that Ishouldn’t even have taken? I started the engine. Yes. That’s exactly what I’m doing. For the good of my client. That’s all.
Finding the place wasn’t difficult. It had clearly once been a business park or something, but it looked more like a compound now. The high wall around the place seemed forbidding, and the heavy metal gates looked like they’d keep a zombie horde out.
A young guy in a leather waistcoat came out to see me.
“Sorry, lady, private property.”
I nodded, a little surprised at the security around the place.
“I’m here to see Ice.”
He frowned. “You are? Hang on.” He dialled a number and spoke to someone, hopefully Ice. His eyebrows practically reached his hairline.
“Okay. Sorry, Dr Chase, I’ll get the gates. Park up near the building, and Ice will meet you at the door.”
I thanked him, and then watched, fascinated, as they drew back the heavy gates, for me to drive in. Inside the compound there were a couple of cars, a van or two, and a lot of motorbikes. All lined up. All shiny with all kinds of artwork on them. They were stunning. I parked up as advised, and eased myself out of the driving seat, my eyes still on the motorbikes. I’d never been on one. Never been brave enough, or in a position to try, but they had my attention now.
