Revved Up Soul: A MC Romance (9 page)

Looking down at her as if he had forgotten she was there, Augustus let go. “Oh, right,” he said. “My bad there sunshine.”

Jasmine straightened her white coat, “Don’t call me that,” she complained.

“Oh you don’t want to do that,” Augustus narrowed his eyes and lifted his chin slightly. “I’ll give you one for being new – but if you do that, I’ll have to mentally file you off as just another Debbie or Melissa.”

He leaned in closer. “Is that what you want, Doctor Debbie?” He pulled away then, he clicked his tongue and his face turned sour. The man walked in brisk strides before she could even voice her opinion – was he disappointed in her somehow?

Jasmine hastily shuffled to catch up to the man that moved with such purpose. Why can’t I just let him go? “It’s Giuseppe,” she called out. “And if you have any stones at all you’ll drop the petnames,” her words came out a bit more playful than she had intended. Am I actively trying to flirt with this man or did the stars just align weird today?

She couldn’t deny that he had an energy about him, and that it was fun as hell to be flirting again; still, she had promised herself that she would focus on her career.

Without looking back, the broad shouldered Doctor gave a throaty laugh. “I’m downgrading you to Hazelnut,” he threatened, turning a corner into the floor’s main lobby. Just what the hell did
that
mean. “And don’t flatter yourself, kiddo,” he stopped in his tracks and turned on his heel giving a condescending look, “pet names are for two people.” Augustus brought up his index finger, “one, for my private army of gimps that I strangely recall only being named Charlie.” The lines of his face turned something pensive as his foxy green eyes moved to the upper right before settling back on Jasmine. “Anddd the second is for my harpy of a wife who only gets them because G man in the sky help me. I. Just. Can’t. Stop poking that bear with a ten foot pole.”

“Ten feet, huh?”

Augustus chuckled to himself, his eyebrows wagging, “You want
exact
measurements?”

I’ve never met a man like this, and I probably won’t ever again. What a charming, self-indulging narcissist. “I was so very wrong,” Jasmine shook her head in disbelief.

“Well since you’ve got me here . . .”

“You
really
like to hear yourself talk. I don’t think the bar could be any higher now.”

The corner of the doctor’s mouth curled into the shadow of a smile and he pointed firmly at Jasmine. “You got me there, Hazelnut.”

Augustus moved over to the front desk and looked for something briefly before picking up two purple colored folders. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” He called out to Jasmine.

“I have my pager on,” she replied, closing the distance between him. “I’ve decided to do you a service.”

Nodding respectfully to the lady at the front desk, Augustus glanced back at Jasmine before walking down the long white hall. A sign hung above their heads reading ‘Neurology’.

Tucking one of the folders beneath his arm, Augustus flipped open the other, “Right here in front of God and everybody? I don’t know how they run their stuff over in kink-land, but that’ll get you fired – for starters – pretty quick.”

Blood rushed to her face and warmth bloomed between her legs. Oh god he twisted that easily. “Wow,” she exclaimed, “I can’t believe you just—“

Augustus craned his head to look back at her. “I did and if you want to fight me about it I promise not to go easy on you just because you’re a girl,” he said, “I’m all about equality.”

Chuckling, Jasmine made a couple long strides to catch up to the man’s side.

“So since like an annoying pest you’ve rooted yourself firmly onto me I guess I’ll bite. What service?” She was going to give him a service by being an excuse to let him hear himself ramble.

Jasmine said nothing as they walked along the corridor, a large black door coming into view with white letters inscribed on it reading ‘Lark M.D’.

The doctor exhaled, why did he sound so happy? “Nothing beats a good silent treatment.”

Jasmine rolled her eyes. “I’m just a pest, remember? The ones I’ve encountered don’t talk.”

Reaching for the handle, he looked back. “Sorry?” He said, turning it and opening the door, stepping part of the way through. “All I heard was a series of drones and clicks.” He turned around fully to face Jasmine then, tossing the two folders onto his desk. It was a nice office, posh and dark. The doctor’s chair was a bright red and made of leather, and there was a picture of a woman framed on his desk. Augustus placed his hands on either end of the frame of his door. “Seriously now I’m going to lock this door sooo don’t make me have to get the fly swatter.”

“I’m glad we won’t be working together,” she announced. That was kind of bratty.

“Yeah me too there Hazelnut.”

Jasmine sighed, “Just tell me what the hell that means – you’re stubborn as all hell.”

“That you turn something that I actually somehow
enjoy
into something that I despise, in this case? My general existence,” he gave her a quick wave then, shut the door, and then a clicking noise could be heard. Wow he wasn’t joking, Jasmine thought. She reached for the handle and turned it, “Don’t be such a jackass,” she called out, leaning suddenly as the door unexpectedly opened. Whoa. Jasmine ‘stepped’ inside and quickly balanced her person.

Turning to face her, the lines on Augustus’ face shifted as if to say ‘come on’.

Jasmine brushed back a strand of her raven hair. “Uhm, didn’t you l—”

“Oh don’t go feeling special now. I locked the hell out of that fickle thing, but you know, when you’re the Dean of Medicine you can’t be assed to fix something like that,” he laughed derisively. “Because it’s,” he did air quotes, “not in the budget.”

“Some man you are,” she quipped. “Fix it yourself.”

The man whined, “That hurts you know, being pigeon holed into a gender identity, what if I don’t know how?”

“Pay someone else to do it?” Her pager buzzed in her coat. Damn.

Augustus sighed and moved over to his red leather chair, sinking back into it. “It’s the principal of things, Darla.

“Jasmine,” she corrected sharply.

“Yeah whatever,” he waved a hand with such an impressive nonchalance that she wondered if, in his head, that Jasmine might have not even been there. “It’s Corey’s job to fix it, not mine. It locks
most
of the time, if and when by some stroke of luck it doesn’t work – then let’s toss it up to the big G deciding there was a reason for it. Because, you know, he has time for
that
and not curing the cancers that he’s okay with having exist.” Augustus was rubbing his temples aggressively at this point, the veins in his neck poking out. “You’re sending me into a rage.”

Jasmine shrugged. “Fix your shit, Gus.” She turned on her heel and started to walk away.

“You start calling me that and I’ll start to play real nasty,” he threatened from behind her, a real anger lacing his voice. “You hear me?”

“Nope,” she called back, not bothering to close the man’s door. “Not over all that
hypocrisy
.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Luke

The lights had cast a foreboding and soft orange hue against the round table. It was a beast of a creation, wrought iron legs decorated with detailed etchings of Norse runes kept the massive wooden structure upright. The circle of wood was made of a resplendent and ages old cedar, lacquered lovingly by the forefathers of the club into a fine polish that partially reflected the faces of the men that sat its chairs. Many people’s death warrants had been signed on this table. More still would, Luke mused, bringing his hands together.

Smoke danced through the air aimlessly before the president himself, Allen Knight, lit up a cigar of his own. A shiver ran down Luke’s spine – he knew it wasn’t right what he did on the way here. If anyone knew what he was doing on that road . . .

Gabriel, directly across from Luke, turned his head away from the smoke. He and Luke were the few that did not partake – save for when they
really
needed it. Gabriel had brown hair that cascaded to his shoulders, quite possibly the most ‘pretty boy’ of the whole club, it curtained his face in such a way that it made him look as if he were only nineteen. He was of course twenty and six. The man had a long, pointed nose that gave him a touch of regality, and his cheekbones were high, very prominent; Gabriel’s eyes were dark as chocolates and deep as bottomless pits, to Luke, they made him look all the more thoughtful, pensive even.

Directly to the left, sat Robert ‘Chains’ Knight, vice president of the MC and son of Allen. Whereas Robert’s hair was blonde and spiked up, Allen’s was tousled in a mess and starting to recede ever so slightly.

Robert leaned over and whispered in Luke’s ear. “Heard you needed a ride today man,” here we go, “shoulda called your boy I woulda tossed my bitch out and been there in a heartbeat.” Though he’d never let the man in on it, Luke truly did not care much for the vice president – they were not close in the least. Well, not anymore at least; for a time they had been close growing up, but things change and so do people. How things were now, was how Luke preferred it to be.

Luke glanced at Robert. “Well I know how you like to kick your conquests to the curb, I should have considered that beforehand – next time, brother.” Physical sickness swelled in his stomach, just saying the word felt like an abortion of what it implied. He touched the bronze ring on his finger inscribed ‘bro’.

“Awesome,” he popped his knuckles, “I can’t wait to crack some skull again man, jonesing so bad.” He gave a stupid little laugh, shifting to face Luke. “Hey let me ask you, you think we’re getting screwed?”

Luke craned his head, a bitterness overcoming him at having to acknowledge his existence. “In my experience this is called sitting.”

“What?” He screwed his face up confused, “I’m talkin’ ‘bout Earl man, you think he’s getting us too cheap?”

“Not really our place to decide,” Luke replied, “he pays above street value and we make good money.”

Turning from Robert, Luke looked to Allen as he did a nice long drag of his cigar – letting the smoke smoothly roll out of his mouth. He sat beside his son, naturally, at the head of the table.

Feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket, Luke produced it and eyed the caller I.D. Kayla. He stuffed it back where it belonged, even if the meeting wasn’t going down he still didn’t want to pick it up.

Allen spoke up, “Let’s get down to brass tacks,” his voice was gruff. “We need to get our heads out of our god damned asses and find
something
,” Allen sucked and the embers glowed red as fiery rubies.

The man to Gabriel’s left, Alex, suggested, “What if it’s not the usual suspects, like someone outside the MC’s.”

Allen narrowed his eyes, “Why? You got somethin’ Lex?”

“Nah,” he replied, “not really. Just smashing heads isn’t turning anything up is the problem Prez. Startin’ to think we’re looking at things wrong.” Alex was right about that, Luke had been skull splitting since he’d found out and not a damn soul had any dirt on what had happened.

Gabriel pushed back his hair. “That’s what I’ve been thinking too, it’s all so clean, something doesn’t sit right. Maybe Martine is involved,” he offered.

Luke unclasped his hands and leaned forward slightly. “That could be,” he concurred, “it definitely explains why everyone would be so hush hush.”

Robert smirked, “No reason for that Gabriel,” his tone was condescending. “Able barely had a place on the table.”

Allen looked displeased. “He has a point,” he admitted. As much as I hated the man’s guts, he wasn’t wrong.

Gabriel placed a finger against his chin thoughtfully.

Allen raked a frustrated hand through his messy straw hair, placing the cigar betwixt his fingers and giving a long drawn out sigh. “I just don’t know,” he admitted, the hurt behind his every word. “Out of all the Knights they could have offed . . . “

Everyone nodded and whispered their agreement. Able was the best of us, hell he was what we should have been striving for from day one – he wasn’t about the violence or the smuggling or any of that.

Allen scratched an itch on his arm, “Point is don’t give up, we need to find something. As for other matters, Robert, Luke, I got word from Shady Earl – he’s ready for the drop.”

Robert perked up in his chair, the boy had a real problem, but nobody else seemed to be on the know about it. “We got this,” he announced, placing his hands behind his head and leaning back – looking over at Luke.

Today was shaping up to be a bad one. “I’ll make sure it gets done, boss,” Luke promised, making certain not to use ‘we’. For reasons unknown to him, his mind meandered to the thought of those emerald eyes – the ones that let Able slip through the cracks and drift away into the dark below; the ones that still made his heart swell and sting like a knife finding its mark.

Jasmine. Why couldn’t you save him?

I just see his smile, Luke morosely thought. I see us running in the fields and fighting over Tracy at the beach and kicking down sandcastles; I just can’t stop missing you little bro. In all her beauty and splendor the woman faded from his mind.