Page 3 of Huge Dynamite
Leaning forward on my bike, I calm my racing thoughts.It doesn’t matter, Dynamite. It doesn’t matter that you’re from two different worlds. She’s not into you anyway. She never even responded to the damned flowers you sent. That was a clear message. You’re not here to propose, only to keep her safe.
That thought doesn’t thrill me—but it calms me. There’s no way a woman like Dr. Holly Boling could ever want me. But Icanprotect her. Holding my breath, I see the hospital just ahead. Squinting, I spy bikes in the parking lot.
“Shit,” I mumble under my breath. Daring to ride up a bit closer, I see the outlines of a large emblem on the bikes—a Dog in broken chains. Fuck. The Dogs are here. I can practically smell them.
There’s no way I can park in the lot next to them, so I double-back to an overflow lot I noticed on my way here. Pulling into the almost-empty lot, I park and jump off my bike. I don’t have any weapons with me—not even my knife—but it wouldn’t matter anyway, because I have to pass a metal detector to go inside. Metal detectors are good. Knowing that there’s not a chance a Dog, or anyone else, could pull a weapon on her calms my racing heart a bit.
Staying in the shadows, I debate how I’m going to rush in through emergency. Spying a doctor on the street corner near the side of the building, I hustle over and see a side entrance. Pushing through a large revolving door, I enter a hallway that opens to the side of the lobby. This is perfect. From here, I can see what’s happening in the lobby without being spotted. Although, it’s obvious that I can’t see everything. Daring a few steps closer, I walk to the end of the hallway and peer into the lobby.
Shit. It’s busier than I anticipated—with Dogs and their families everywhere. It’s like they’ve exploded in size. How many friggin’ Dogs are there now? They must have come in by truck, not just bikes. The good part of all of this frenzied chaos is that I blend in, and none of the staff will know I don’t belong here. With my tats, short hair, wide, muscled shoulders, and rough skin that appears permanently dirty, I look like any one of the bikers here. Unless you’re on the inside, you’d never know one club from the next. All you can be sure of is that with our collection of nicknames, tattoos, colors, and jackets, we’re not hospital staff.
Craning my neck, I look for Luther, their president, but I don’t see him anywhere. Suddenly, the sound of the opening and closing of the front emergency door grabs my attention, and I turn to see more Dogs rushing in.
One Dog in a leather coat has an arm draped around another, who’s doubled over and barely able to walk.
“Can I get some help here?” he yells. “My friend’s been shot.”
Fuck. The fight must have broken into gunfire. I wouldn’t expect anything less from the Dogs. Stepping into the lobby and sliding along the wall, I find a place behind an arrangement of potted trees where I can see and hear everything that’s happening, but I won’t be spotted. Yeah, maybe if these were normal conditions a Dog would sniff his way over to me, but considering the chaos in here, I doubt it will happen.
Glancing back and forth from one end of the lobby to the other, I keep looking for Dr. Holly, but I don’t see her anywhere. Forcing deep breaths, I try to think logically. Maybe she has a day off? The woman can’t work every day. As more Dogs come in and fill up the waiting room, and one doctor after another walks up to the intake station, I grow calmer. Maybe she’s not here and won’t get caught in this disaster. Unless she’s so swamped in the back she’s not able to come out here…
A tall, well-groomed male doctor hurries into the lobby from the ER.
“Dr. Covens?” A nurse from triage rushes forward to him. “Gunshot to the abdomen.”
Stiffening, I stand up taller. I know Covens. I know who he was to Holly and who he’d like to be again. But I can’t worry about that now. Now, my only focus is making sure she’s safe.
Running to the patient while he pulls on rubber gloves, he quickly sizes up the situation as the damned Dog is laid out on a gurney. Covens barks a few orders and then, grabbing one side of the gurney, he rushes into the back with the Dog. Covens is probably about to save that man’s life. He has the skill and the knowledge to do that—and here I am, with barely a high school diploma, hiding behind a freaking dusty potted tree.
Screw this. Who do I think I am? What makes me think she needs me—
“It’s a fucking Knight. And he’s hiding behind a plant!”
Whipping around, I catch one of the Dogs standing to one side of me, licking his lips. He’s so freaking happy, he’s salivating.
“What are you doing here, Knight? Did you come to water the plants?” Laughing, he looks me in the eyes. “Or are you just hiding?”
The idea of him thinking I’m hiding doesn’t sit well with me, but I push aside my anger because he’s right. Iamhiding.
“What do you care?” I ask him. “The hospital isn’t on Dog turf.” Standing taller, I study him. His shifty eyes are glassy, and his face is beet-red. He looks like he’s been fighting all night, and he’s probably high on adrenaline. A man high on adrenaline can be a dangerous thing—he can have superhuman strength and heightened senses, but he’s still not as dangerous as a man who’s fighting to protect a woman.
The only way to handle this situation is to show immediate dominance, but I’m wedged into a corner—caught between the wall, the plants, and the damned Dog.
Turning, I step closer to him, but he doesn’t budge. “Listen, Dog, I’m not here for trouble. So, unless you want to start a war with the Knights—considering how well that went for you last time—I’d shut the fuck up and leave.”
“We were undermanned then, and you had that freaking fighting machine.”
He means CJ, and he’s right. We can all fight, but CJ’s a damned warrior.
“We won’t lose again,” the Dog hisses.
“You sure of that?” I inch my way a bit closer, and because I’ve got a good five inches on him, I look down at him.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
He talks an okay game, but my presence has gotten him to back off a bit, which means I’m almost free of the trees. But this asshole is pulling my focus. I should be watching out for Holly, but now I’ve got to be doubly careful—the last thing I want is for this asshole to know who I’m here for and why.
Suddenly, I hear sirens. The red flashing lights of an ambulance flood the lobby, and just as the front door opens and one of the Vipers is rushed in on a gurney, Dr. Holly Boling runs in from the back. Her white jacket is stained with red, and she’s wearing blue scrubs beneath. Her face is hardened into a look of determination. Covens is on her heels.
