My Bad (Bear Bottom Guardians MC 4)

Needless to say, after talking with Kelley, then the cops for not just Hoax’s friend but also the abuse that I’d witnessed, paired with the fact that my mother glared at me at every turn, I was not in a good mood.

Not even a little bit.

That, and my head hurt.

Then again, I lived with a headache about ninety percent of the time.

Honestly, at this point, it was more rare not to wake up with a headache than it was to wake up with one.

My phone vibrated as I was leaving work, and I was thankful it was on silent.

After the day that I’d had, I didn’t want to talk to anyone. Not even the man responsible for not only making my day shit but also making it beautiful.

The last thing on Earth I wanted to deal with, however, was Kelley as I was leaving.

I swear he waited just so he could walk with me out to our cars.

It was weird, because I had a feeling that Kelley wouldn’t park so far out had I not parked so far out.

In fact, I was about eighty percent certain that he had a parking spot in the gated part of the lot where the doctors were allowed to park.

It didn’t make sense for him to park out there unless there was a reason for him to park out there—IE me.

Spotting him lingering by the front crosswalk pretending to talk to a nurse but periodically glancing over the nurse’s shoulders to the door where I normally came out, I winced.

“Want to go the back way?”

I looked up to find Mr. M, the security guard and my savior, standing behind his desk with a raised bushy brow.

“I’d kill for you to take me the back way,” I breathed.

It wasn’t really a back way. It was only a different exit and the use of the golf cart that he parked out by the south entrance where the ambulances parked to unload. I’d have to see Kelley as we passed, but I’d be on the golf cart going fast.

Mr. M never slowed down, and with the plastic around the cart that shielded him from the rain, we both acted like we couldn’t hear Kelley when he called out for a ride.

“Bad day?” Mr. M asked.

I nodded. “Really bad day. My head’s pounding more than usual, too.”

“Stress’ll do that to you,” he surmised. “My girl used to put lemon juice on her forehead and let it dry. I’m not sure if it worked, but she did it every time she got one.”

I smiled. “Sometimes the simplest of things are what works best for me. Lord knows all the other remedies I’ve tried haven’t.”

Mr. M was more than used to me telling him about my headaches. He was also more than used to taking me to my car, because he knew exactly where I parked and he didn’t stop or waiver in his quest to get me to it.

The moment we arrived, I leaned over and placed a kiss on his wrinkly cheek.

“Have a good night, Mr. M,” I said softly. “You’re the best.”

He winked at me as I pushed through the plastic, and waited patiently as I got into my car.

I started it up and didn’t even appreciate the throaty purr of the engine. Instead, I was too busy trying not to cry as the vibration of the engine rocked me uncomfortably.

Waving one last time to Mr. M as he waited for me to back out, I did and pulled out down the street.

I didn’t stop at my usual salad joint that served great grilled chicken salads. Neither did I stop at the gas station for the gas that I promised myself that I would get this morning when I got off of work.

Instead, I drove straight home and was thankful that Hoax’s bike wasn’t at Bayou’s place.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see him, it was that I just didn’t want to deal with anything or anyone right then.

I wanted to take a shower, and then lay down in bed and forget the day—well, most of it.

There was a half hour time period that I most certainly wouldn’t be forgetting any time soon, and that wasn’t just because of the soreness between my legs.

After walking into my house and going to the back door to let my dog and pig out, I walked to the fridge and pulled out a few pieces of fruit for Redbird and Bluebird before going to the shower.

Stripping my clothes next to the laundry basket, I tossed them and managed to miss with both my pants and one sock.

I didn’t bend over to pick them up, however. I left them where they were and promised myself I’d get them tomorrow.

That was likely a lie. I’d pick them up three days from now when I was forced to do laundry due to having no work clothes. Until then, the clothes would stay exactly where they fell.