Man of Honor (Passion in Paradise Book 4) Page 6

  Dr. Daniels’ shoulders sagged. “Well, hell. Man, the charge nurse on duty tonight is gonna love my ass,” he continued dryly. “I’m sending her two fuckin’ chest-beating alpha males to contend with in her Recovery Ward. What could possibly go wrong with this plan?”

  “I guarantee you it will have a better ending than if you decide to try and keep us from Honor and Patience,” Zeke guaranteed firmly.

  ~***~

  Ninety minutes later Zeke had finally battled his way through Mack Daniels, the Charge Nurse, and two of Honor’s very worried sisters to make it to her side. What he found waiting for him caused every muscle in his body to lock. Otherwise, he would have fallen to his knees beside her bed.

  Pasty white and way too still for Zeke’s piece of mind, Honor laid on her back atop the narrow hospital bed, her chest barely rising and falling as a wide assortment of machines beeped around her. Her body was covered to the waist with a thin sheet, but her face held an assortment of scrapes and bruises, and each of her arms held an IV.

  His rational mind reminded him that it wasn’t the first time he’d seen her in this condition, but watching someone you loved fight to live was never something that got easier. Especially when that person sat at the center of your world.

  Moving closer, he grimaced as he saw the dark blue bruise on her chest where her seatbelt had caught her. Christ, she looked as if she’d been beaten again, he thought furiously, carefully brushing the back of his hand against her forehead. His eyes catalogued every scrape and bruise he could see, and on such a tiny body, every mark was glaringly obvious, he thought bitterly.

  His Honor had endured too many of those painful injuries in her short twenty-four years. It had to stop, he told himself. And by God, it would, he vowed silently. He didn’t care what he had to do.

  The battle axe of a Charge Nurse had warned him that his girl would remain unconscious for a while longer, but he couldn’t help wishing that she’d hurry up and open her eyes. Until he saw those expressive cornflower blue orbs staring back at him with something other than pain, he didn’t think he’d be able to relax.

  Despite his tension, the last hour and a half had been informative, though. His deputies had confirmed by the skid marks on the main road where Honor’s car had left the pavement, that it appeared there had been two vehicles involved. It also appeared as though Honor’s brakes had been useless during the accident, which didn’t make a lick of sense since he knew that Wrath McKay had serviced her vehicle barely a week ago.

  As much as he’d hated to do it, he’d put a call out to the sole reputable mechanic in Paradise. And hellfire, how he’d hated to do it. He had a variety of reasons for his hesitance. Chiefly among them was that while the man might run a thriving auto repair business, his other career as President of the local MC Club, The Hounds of Hell, was a bone of contention between the sheriff and Wrath McKay. Part outlaw/part vigilante, Wrath and his boys didn’t always follow the letter of the law. No, they skated as close to the edge of it as they possibly could. And that made a lawman like himself a bit anxious. They weren’t exactly adversaries – after all, Zeke occasionally needed to make use of their connections – but, they weren’t buds either. They had, however, graduated, high school together, so they did share some common history. And some common one night stands, if Zeke was honest about it. In a different life, he probably could have been buddies with Wrath. Unfortunately, Wrath’s interest in Honor prevented that. The truth was Zeke was more than a little aware of the very real fact that the normally hard-to-read Wrath McKay had always had an obvious soft spot for Honor. He’d had it for years. It’d developed right around the time Zeke himself had fallen in love with Honor.

  It was an understatement to say that Ezekiel didn’t like that at all, and he’d had to let the other man know on more than one occasion that Honor was off-limits for whatever the MC President had in mind. Honor belonged to Zeke. She might not accept it yet. And God knew, his sweet angel didn’t really altogether understand what being his meant, but regardless, Zeke was keeping her. Forever. And that began with keeping her as far away from Wrath McKay and his gang of goons as he possibly could.

  So, it was safe to say that Zeke was more than a little unhappy that he needed Wrath’s help. But in this instance, he didn’t trust any man more to find out what the hell had gone wrong in Honor’s freshly-serviced car.

  Hearing the sound of a throat clearing behind him, Zeke glanced over his shoulder and was unsurprised to find the man in question leaning against the sliding door of the glassed-in cubicle, staring at Honor with longing in his dark eyes.

  Rising, Zeke turned to face Wrath McKay. Evenly matched in both height and breadth, the two men stared at each other, each eyeing the other critically.

  ~**~

  “Just how in the hell did you get back here, McKay?” Zeke asked through clenched teeth as he moved to block Wrath’s view of Honor.

  “Now, Sheriff. You called me. I thought you’d be happy to see an old friend,” Wrath returned sarcastically, his amber eyes amused as they clashed with Zeke’s steely gray ones.

  “We were never friends and you know it,” Zeke retorted sharply, reaching a hand up to rub the back of his aching neck. “Seriously, this car accident of Honor’s may not be an accident at all, Wrath. I need to make sure she’s protected at all times, and the fact that the staff is allowing men that aren’t family back here isn’t exactly going to keep her protected if she’s got somebody after her.”

  “May I point out that you’re no more family to her than I am?” Wrath questioned dryly.

  Zeke merely raised an eyebrow at that and lifted his chin. Mostly because both men knew exactly who he was going to be to Honor eventually.

  Wrath shrugged after a long, fraught moment. “Jesus, Zeke. Lucy Sykes was on the front desk. I fucked her last weekend at a club party. She was… Is it arrogant to say grateful?” he questioned with a sly smile. “Anyway, I told her I needed to see you; she let me in.”

  Zeke stared at the other man. “Nice. And you expect me to move aside so that you can have a go at Honor,” he muttered, shaking his head in disgust. “Like hell that’ll ever happen.”

  Wrath chuckled. “If I had Honor, believe me, Sheriff. I wouldn’t be out there fucking the Lucy Sykes of the world.”

  Zeke nailed Wrath with a penetrating gaze. “If you seriously cared anything about Honor, you wouldn’t have the desire to fuck anybody else in the world. Period.”

  “We’re not all monks, Zeke,” Wrath replied quietly, dropping his hands in the deep pockets of his jeans.

  “You would be if your dick didn’t get hard for anybody else but her,” Zeke growled with a look over his shoulder at a motionless Honor.

  Moving more deeply into the cubicle, Wrath hissed a breath in through his teeth as he got a good look at the woman in the bed. “Fuck, man,” he winced, his nostrils flaring as he stared down at Honor’s body.

  Zeke knew what the other guy was seeing. Mottled with bruises and scrapes, his Kitten looked like a fragile broken doll. “Yeah. Now maybe you understand my current mood a little better,” he remarked drolly.

  “Is she gonna be okay?” Wrath questioned, his voice almost inaudible.

  Dropping a gentle hand to rest on Honor’s forehead, Zeke swept his thumb tenderly against her temple. “She’s gonna get through this,” he confirmed before offering Wrath a hard look. “But I want the bastards that put her in this bed, Wrath.”

  Wrath nodded somberly. “For Honor, me and the boys will help any way we can, Sheriff.”

  “Really?” Zeke asked mildly, his gaze silently assessing the man’s sincerity.

  “We might have our problems, man, and I know you got issues with the Hounds of Hell. But NONE of us have a problem with that woman there,” Wrath continued, pointing a finger at where Honor rested. “Shit, Zeke, when everybody else was looking down there nose at the Hounds, your girl there…she was sweet as sugar to every last one of my guys. And I know how hard that was on h
er. Especially since we’re not exactly a bunch of suit-wearing Nancy boys. I know we had to scare her… but she refused to treat us any… less, you know? Even after everything that happened to her, she was fair.”

  “I know. She swears you’re all just a bunch of teddy bears that ride motorcycles while out helping little old ladies cross the road,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Your club has been the cause of many a skirmish between me and her.”

  Wrath grinned. “Yeah, well… for her, that’s all we are, Zeke. Any one of my men would step in front of a bullet for her. You should know that. If she needs us… for anything, we’re in. All you gotta do is ask. The Hounds of Hell owe her, and we believe in paying our debts.”

  “I’m not exactly in the habit of askin’ vigilantes for assistance,” Zeke grumbled.

  “You say vigilante. I say we’re just very concerned, involved citizens. But even if what you say is true about us, I’m pretty sure that where Honor McKinnon’s concerned, there’s not a rule you won’t break.”

  “You’d be right about that,” Zeke acknowledged softly, staring down at Honor’s still face. “She’s worth breaking any rule that stands in the way of getting some justice for her.”

  “Tell me what you know, Zeke,” Wrath urged, propping his body against the one wall in the room.

  Quickly filling the man in on the details surrounding the wreck, Zeke watched Wrath shake his head in denial.

  “No.” Wrath stated firmly. “What you’re describing isn’t possible.”

  “Patience says they had no brakes, Wrath. That when the vehicle behind them tried to run them off the road, and Honor tried to slow down to let it get by her, her brakes went out. Is it possible one of your mechanics overlooked…”

  “Zeke, I took care of Honor’s vehicle myself. I always do. Nobody else in the shop even touched it, and I went over it with a fine tooth comb. I even added brake fluid. Her lines were fine. If her brakes went out…”

  “Somebody cut them,” Zeke surmised, his muscles tautening as he recognized just how much danger Honor was facing.

  “Won’t know until I get underneath the car, but….yeah. That’d be my guess. Any ideas on who…”

  “We both know the answer to that, McKay,” Zeke replied tightly. “There are still two bastards runnin’ free out there. Tanner Suarez took a great deal of joy in making sure that Honor knew it, too, before that fucker took his last breath. My guess is that those animals are runnin’ scared now, afraid of what she’ll remember next. So, they’re gonna try and ensure that she’s not around to remember jack shit.”

  “Christ on a cracker,” Wrath cursed, his hand fisting at his side. “Zeke, you realize that if they’ve put her back in their sights, they’re gonna be some desperate assholes.”

  “I know,” Zeke acknowledged softly. Offering the other man a sidelong look, he continued. “I haven’t forgotten what you did for Honor, McKay. I know you helped me put down one of those animals, Wrath. For that, I still owe you a marker.”

  “No marker,” Wrath denied flatly. “That bastard was one of my prospects. Turns my stomach that I had that kind of filth anywhere near my club, Zeke. I know it’s been eight years since it happened, but that kind of stain leaves a lasting mark. The fact that Honor doesn’t hate every fucker that wears the Hounds vest is a miracle. Taking that bastard down with you was a pleasure that I would have paid you to do, Zeke.”

  “’Preciate that, McKay, but what I gotta know is if I needed it…”

  Wrath held up a hand. “You need me to help find these last couple of fuckers, I’m down, Sheriff. So is my club. And not just for your woman either. I got a kid that I didn’t have eight years ago. The idea of that kind of child-raping scum still hangin’ around in our town doesn’t sit well with me or the club.”

  Zeke nodded, glad to know he’d have the Hell Hounds as allies if it came down to it. He hoped it didn’t. He prayed he could take care of these pricks himself, but he couldn’t deny that if getting help could make the job go faster, he’d gladly enlist assistance. “Thanks,” he said softly, his attention suddenly drawn to the bed when he heard Honor’s low moan of pain.

  “Seems like she’s startin’ to wake up,” Wrath noted softly. “Listen, Zeke, just have your department release the car back over to the garage in the next couple of days. As soon as I get it, I’ll do a full diagnostic and get you the answers that you’re searchin’ for.”

  Leaning over to soothe Honor’s furrowed brow with the tips of his fingers, Zeke nodded without looking at the other man. “Just you, McKay. I want this investigation into what happened tonight kept tight. Only those that need to know get in the loop. Got me?”

  “Yep.” The dark-headed man nodded. “I’ll keep things quiet on my end. I’ll tell the boys at the garage we’re just holding the car for the junkyard until Honor’s insurance pays out. Nobody will think anything about it.”

  “Good. I’ve got the state boys looking at the car first so the evidence is preserved, then I’ll get the department to release her vehicle in the next 48 hours,” Zeke muttered, his eyes staying glued to Honor’s face. Her eyes remained closed, but her breathing had grown shallower and her forehead was creased, almost as if she was trying to force herself to speak. He wasn’t anything approaching an expert, but it looked to him like she was definitely starting to come out from under the anesthesia.

  “If you get a free moment, maybe keep the clubhouse posted on her,” Wrath suggested hopefully. “She may be yours, man. You’ve made that clear, but she’s loved by a lot of people. Keep us updated, yeah?”

  Jaw clenching, Zeke fought an automatic denial. But Wrath was offering his assistance… assistance that Zeke couldn’t easily ask of anybody else. “I’ll make sure to give a call.”

  Wrath chuckled. “That must have hurt like hell to say,” he goaded.

  “Get out before I find a reason to arrest you, McKay,” Zeke warned on a low growl.

  “Take care of her, Zeke,” Wrath ordered seriously, stepping forward to thump the sheriff on the arm before turning to leave.

  Zeke listened as the other man’s footsteps echoed down the hallway, only fully relaxing once the sound faded. He felt like he’d made a deal with the Devil. While he knew Wrath McKay wasn’t exactly Satan incarnate, he could easily be a first cousin of the cloven-hoofed Prince of Darkness.

  “Mmmmm,” he heard Honor’s pained hum as her slender body shifted on the bed uncomfortably. “H-hurts,” she mumbled hoarsely, her eyes squeezing tightly closed as Zeke’s hand stroked her hair gently.

  “Shhhh, Kitten. Everything’s going to be alright. Just lie still,” he urged, frowning as he looked quickly over his shoulder toward the nurse’s station. Waving a hand at one of the women behind the desk and pointing at Honor, he saw the nurse nod in return, rising from her chair. “The nurse is coming, baby,” he shared softly when Honor whimpered again.

  “Ouch,” she cried, trying to twist her body in the bed.

  “Don’t move, honey,” Zeke chided again as Honor’s eyelids slowly opened to reveal cloudy bewildered eyes.

  “Z-zeke?” she whispered, weakly lifting a hand toward him.

  Catching her hand in his as a nurse in bright orange scrubs bustled through the door, Zeke brushed a kiss against the back of her hand. “I’m here, Honor. So are your sisters and aunt and uncle. They’re out in the waiting room.”

  “Keep them there,” she directed on a wince as she tossed her head on the pillow. “They’ll just try to fuss over me like I’m a toddler if you let ‘em in here. B-but I would like to know where here is, exactly?” she asked, her voice cracked as she looked around to see the nurse smile at her. “And what happened to me? I hurt,” she moaned as she grew more agitated.

  “Miss McKinnon, don’t fret, doll. I’m your nurse tonight. My name is Farrah, and you’re in the recovery room at Paradise General,” the older woman explained calmly as she pushed a button that began to tighten the blood pressure cuff around Honor’s arm. “You’ve had
a real hard evening, sweet girl.”

  Watching Honor lick her dry lips and offer the nurse a long blink before turning confused eyes toward him, Zeke held her hand tighter. “What do you remember, Kitten?”

  “I remember that I hate when you call me Kitten,” Honor grumbled tiredly, her eyes going back to watching the nurse as the woman adjusted the medications running through her IV. “Throat hurts,” she whispered. “Thirsty.”

  “You can’t have any water yet, but they gave me a cup of ice chips to wet your lips, baby,” Zeke informed her as he offered her a white plastic spoon with a couple of chips on it. He couldn’t help his smile. If his girl was feeling well enough to give him attitude, she was on the mend. “And, if you don’t want me to call you Kitten, then don’t hiss and claw like one,” he countered lightly, stroking the back of his fingers over the apple of her pale cheek while he reached for the cup of ice chips the nurse’s aide had left in the room earlier and refilled the spoon.

  Turning her head toward where the nurse now ran a thermometer across her forehead, Honor’s forehead wrinkled as she greedily sucked on the slivers of ice. “Can you toss him out, too? And maybe get me a drink of water?”

  The woman laughed as she made a note on Honor’s chart. “’Fraid not, sweets. No water for a while yet, and your man has been about as immoveable as a statue since the docs let him back here. And since he’s carryin’ both a badge AND a gun, I think I’m gonna let him be.”

  Honor’s nose curled even as she bit her lip, flinching as she tried to adjust herself in the bed. “The Sheriff is NOT mine, Farrah. Trust me. He’s just a bit over-dedicated in his mission to protect the citizens of our town.”

  “Oh, I’m hers, ma’am. She just hasn’t wrapped her head around the fact that she’s mine yet,” Zeke snorted, shaking his head at the frustrating patient currently glaring at him as he rubbed an ice chip against Honor’s dry lips.

  “Quit lyin’ to this woman, you mule-headed fool,” she demanded through clenched teeth. Honor’s jaw set as she tried to inhale deeply, crying out with the effort. “Why does it hurt so much? Zeke, what…wait! Patience! Oh, God. The wreck. There was a car wreck! Where’s Patience?” she shouted, her body going stiff as Zeke watched the confusion clear from her eyes as the earlier events of the evening flooded her memory.