my side. “I’m a nurse.” She peers down the ravine. “Oh, my God.”
I point. “That woman and her baby were in the car, but he pulled them out in time.”
She slides down the embankment to check the victims. I see her turn to take in the MC cut that Memphis wears, and yell, “Did you and your motorcycle run this poor woman off the road?”
Memphis takes a step back, his expression stunned. Then he wipes his jaw with the back of his hand, and lifts his chin to the woman and baby. “Are they okay?”
“I can’t be sure, but her leg looks broken.”
I can hear sirens from a distance, drawing closer. People are peering over the guardrails now. Finally, paramedics and a fire engine arrive, and men scramble down the hill with a backboard. Two of them strap the woman to it, and carry her up, while another brings the infant.
Memphis comes to stand next to me. “Let’s get out of here.”
I nod, and follow him to the bike. “They’ll be okay,” I say as he straps his helmet on.
“Yeah,” he replies with a jerk of a nod.
“She didn’t mean it—that woman.”
“Yeah, she did. They always do.”
“You saved that mother and child. No one else did. You did that.”
“Let’s go.” He climbs on the bike, firing it up, and I can tell he’s still pissed off.
I scramble on behind him, and press my cheek to his back as we roar off.
Memphis was amazing, the way he took charge of the situation, and pulled that woman and her baby from the wreckage—the way he got them back from the car as it caught fire and exploded.
That nurse saw nothing but a low-life criminal who must be to blame, but I see the real man. Memphis is a true leader, and could be so much more than a Nomad. He could rise in the ranks of a Chapter of his own, someday maybe even hold the gavel. If only he could see what I see, and if only it mattered to him.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Lola—
We arrive back at the clubhouse around 9pm that night. Memphis called Rock at the last gas station we filled up at, and told him we were only a couple hours out. I know when I walk in my father is going to be pissed at me. Somehow, I don’t care. Somehow, I’m more upset at the thought of my time with Memphis being one step closer to being over.
Loud music and raucous laughter spill out from inside the building. The lot is full of dark motorcycles, their chrome glinting in the moonlight.
I stand by the bike, running my hand over the seat of the Memphis’ Harley. I stare at it; committing its every line to memory until I know I’ll recognize it the next time I see it, if there is such a time. I pray there will be.
“Lola.”
I lift my eyes to Memphis. He’s standing near the porch, one boot on the first step, looking back at me with a strange expression.
“You okay?”
My hand slips from the warm leather as the cooling engine pings. I nod. “Fine. Let’s go inside.” I brush past him, chin held high, not wanting him to think I can’t face my father.
He snags my hand, and pulls me around to face him. His eyes are the pale green of an island ocean as they search mine. He cups my chin, and tilts my face up, that gaze dropping to my mouth.
He hesitates, and I want him to kiss me so badly, but for some reason I don’t want to be the one to close the distance. I want it to be him. I want to know he wants me that much.
His thumb strokes my lips in a gentle caress, and then he finally dips his head those last few inches. When he pulls back, he whispers gruffly, “It was a fun trip. No regrets, right?”
I nod. What else can I do? Tell him my heart is breaking? The one I forgot to guard? I pull back, and turn to the door, hauling it open. I stop inside, and feel his presence at my back. It’s reassuring, that warm heat of his big body standing right behind me. It’s like we’re in this together, which is absurd.
I survey the crowded smoke-filled room. There’s a happy birthday banner across one wall, and I remember that its Baha’s birthday. I spot him across the room getting a lap dance from some girl I’ve never seen around