Making the Cut (Saving Dallas 2)

“Okay, enough with all this sappy shit. What are you, a pig? Look at this place.” I began tidying up the little room, clearing off the table and folding blankets that were scattered everywhere. Marty laughed, then held his side as a pained look crossed his face.

“You okay?” I asked concerned, and immediately at his side.

“Stop babying him. You’ll turn him into a pussy,” I heard Tiny, the club’s Sergeant At Arms, say from the door.

“Pussy? Did someone say pussy?” Buck asked, pushing his small frame past Tiny and entering the room that was now filling up.

“Quit talking about pussy,” Crash chimed in. He was now sitting on the arm of the chair, flipping through the same magazine Luke had earlier, but not really looking at it. “I haven’t had any in a week.”

“Is that why you had you were holding hands with my girl?” Luke asked him, his death glare back in place. The whole room erupted with laughter, except for Crash who looked like he wanted to jump out of the eight story window. “I mean, if you think you can compete, then by all means.” I shot a glare at Luke and he smiled and cocked his head to the side. “Babe. I’m just kidding.” I rolled my eyes and started adjusting Marty’s pillows. This was no easy task. Just for him to move a couple inches caused him enormous pain, although I know he tried to hide it.

“You need to rest,” I said to him quietly, so no one else could here. From what I had been told, PROSPECTS caught hell during their first year. I knew he was trying to be hard in front of the guys, but this was ridiculous and since I was the reason he was here, I felt it was somewhat my responsibility to ensure his comfort.

“Okay, guys,” I said to the room. It grew quiet immediately, and I started to chicken out. “Marty has had a long day. I think we should let him rest.” Every face in the room, including Marty’s turned to Luke. Luke was eyeing me, seemingly impressed by my courageous, outspoken request. I mean, who the hell was I to announce to a bunch of bad-ass bikers that they needed to shut the hell up and get the hell out, although I didn’t say it in those words, they knew the meaning. What seemed like minutes, but was really only seconds passed when Luke finally spoke.

“Well, y’all heard the lady. Let’s give Marty some time to rest. Buck, you and Crash stay close. No further than the lobby.”

Both Crash and Buck nodded in agreement. Everyone said goodbye to Luke and I, then hugged Marty as gently as possible. I could tell they cared about him and gave him great respect for what he had done. No one had mentioned War, and even at the thought of him, my stomach plunged. I didn’t think it was an appropriate time to say anything so I kept my mouth shut, but made a mental note to ask Luke about it later.

“Babe?” Luke said to me, shaking me out of my thoughts. I looked up at him and smiled. He really was stunning. You wanna go? Maybe grab something to eat and let PROSPECT get some sleep?” My stomach growled at the mention of food and I turned to Marty to say my goodbyes.

“I’ll come visit you tomorrow. Is there anything you need?”

“No, ma’am. I’m good. Thanks, though,” he said managing a weak smile. I leaned down and kissed his cheek again and felt it heat against my lips. Big, bad, biker Marty was embarrassed. I straightened and Luke approached the bed.

“I love you, brother. I’ll see you later.” My heart clenched at the sight of the two grown men, exchanging hugs and expressions of love for one another. I had never seen Luke like this. You could tell by the look on his face and the sincerity in his eyes that he meant every word of it, as if it was his blood brother. My eyes burned as tears threatened to fall. Luke held his hand out and I walked around the bed, taking it in mine and he led us out the door. Once in the lobby, he exchanged a few hushed words with Crash and Buck, then led us onto the elevator to the second floor parking garage.

We were sitting in Firehouse Subs, Luke eating a meaty, foot-long sandwich, and me a chicken salad sandwich, watching the cars pass on Hardy Street. Luke left his truck at the hospital and we had come in my car. He had insisted on driving and I handed him the keys as he opened my door and ushered me in. It was little things like that, and holding my hand all the way here that had my heart swelling with love for him. Luke was no ordinary man, running a construction company by day, being a biker by night, making mad love to me in-between and during. Good thing, I didn’t like ordinary.