Not a Role Model (Battle Crows MC 4)

I felt my eyelid twitch.

When I opened my mouth to tell him no, again, he picked up the rather large wrench off my toolbox and moved forward so fast that I never saw him move.

I was scrambling back on my hands and knees before he was there.

He threw me backward onto my back, and seconds later, I found him between my splayed thighs.

I gasped at the feel of his hard cock pressing against the apex of my parted legs.

I’d gone from being in control, to complete fear, in half a second.

“Now that I have your attention,” he sneered, his overly long hair brushing my cheeks as he leaned forward, his hand now on my throat and squeezing. “You’ll agree to do my bike, because I need it by tonight. Capisce?”

I swallowed hard and did the only thing I could think of—nod.

“Good girl,” he said.

Then he reared back and punched me straight in the face.

Pain exploded over my mouth, jaw, and lips.

I’d never been punched before.

Sure, I’d been hit by my brother, but I’d never been solidly punched.

And it hurt.

Oh, god. Did it hurt.

I didn’t know what I expected, but I never would have dreamed of the utter and all-consuming pain from that punch.

My face actually throbbed as I rolled over, my face in my hands, and cried.

I didn’t know how long I stayed like that, but it was a while.

When I realized that the pain wasn’t going to go away, I forced myself to move.

Luckily, with the bay door mostly closed as it was, if the guy was waiting to see what I would do, he wouldn’t be able to do that for long.

I had the door closed and locked from the inside before he could make a move.

I was then running out of the back door like my heels were on fire.

I was ready to go home in my jeans and ripped-up black T-shirt, as well as my welding boots.

With the welding job I’d been working on so small, I hadn’t seen a reason to get out of my completely drenched work clothes.

The only problem with being changed was that I didn’t have my phone, keys, or anything.

Luckily, there was one place that I knew I could get to fast.

And that was the hospital that our building shared a lot with, butting up to the parking lot.

There was also a person there that I knew would be able to help me, even if he did dislike me immensely.

The moment I pushed through the ER doors, my eyes were everywhere.

Tide was nowhere to be found, but that was understandable.

The doors to the main ER, where all the magic happened, were locked with a security guard standing in front of it.

I walked straight up to that security guard and said, “I need to see Tide.”

Everyone knew Tide, so there was no denying who I was talking about without the addition of his last name.

His eyes scanned me up and down and found me lacking.

But he got on his phone which was a few steps away and gave Tide a call for me.

That’s when I started to get woozy.

“Hey… hey, are you all right?” the security guard asked.

Was I still standing?

I couldn’t tell.

“Ma’am?” The security guard tried to get my attention, but there was something seriously wrong with me.

I couldn’t form coherent thoughts, and I wasn’t even altogether sure whether I was standing at this point, or if I’d sat down.

“Are you sure you want to wait for him?” the security guard asked. “You don’t look so good.”

I didn’t feel so good, either.

“Ma’am.”

I swallowed hard, feeling bile rise up the back of my throat.

A strange throbbing behind my eye started to pulse with each beat of my heart, and between one second and the next, I bent over and vomited all over the floor.

So possibly, I was still standing.

“You’re going back without—” the security guard was interrupted by Tide.

“What the absolute fuck?”

I felt Tide’s hands then, pulling my hair away from my face.

When had it fallen from the ponytail I usually kept it in?

“I don’t know, honey,” Tide whispered, speaking softly. “Can you tell me what happened?”

No. I can’t even think past the massive confusion in my brain.

“She’s been doing that since she came in here. Talking like that. It’s like she’s saying what she’s thinking but isn’t aware of herself doing it,” the security guard explained.

Was I?

“Yes, you are,” Tide murmured. “Come on,” then I was up and in Tide’s arms.

“I weigh like eight hundred pounds.” I found myself saying.

For some reason, being horizontal, really changed the way my head was feeling. Maybe I should’ve lain down before that.

“You probably should’ve,” Tide agreed with, apparently, my voiced thoughts. “And you don’t weigh eight hundred pounds. You probably weigh one forty, max.”

“Try one seventy,” I muttered. “I can’t control my brain.”

“Your face looks bad,” he surmised. “And I should’ve guessed you weighed more than you look.”