Page 15 of Chains
“You’re so tense, baby. What’re you thinking about?” The scent of her floral perfume made his nose twitch.
“Nothing much.” Doc Stanford’s deep brown eyes flashed through his mind.Damn, if they aren’t beautiful.They were the color of the soil after a rainstorm with flecks of gold sunlight.
“See, you’re getting all tense again, baby.” Lila’s soft voice blurred out the image of the sexy vet. “Are you worried about Thor?”
Nodding, Chains straightened up in the chair. “Yeah, that’s it.”
“Do you wanna take this to your room? I can give you a real good body massage.” Her breath was warm next to his ear.
“Thanks, but I’m gonna step out and give the clinic another call.”
“I’ll still be here when you get back, baby.”
Chains grasped her hands and squeezed them. “Don’t waste tonight waiting for me. Another time, okay?”
Lila pulled her hands away. “You still with Ruby?”
He rose to his feet. “I’m not with anyone.” He pursed his lips, then strode across the room to the front door.
Once outside, Chains pulled out his phone and tapped the clinic’s number. He looked at the black sky filled with sparkling stars and wished that Thor were standing next to him.
“Highlands Animal Care Center,” a male voice said.
“I’m calling to see how Thor’s doing,” Chains replied.
“And who are you?”
Anger bristled along his spine. “The fuckin’ owner.”
“Uh… sorry, but I need a name,” the man said.
“Is Doc Stanford there?” Chains gritted.
“No, but she’ll be in tomorrow morning. I can help you if you just give me your name.”
“Chains.”
“Hang on.”
Chains heard the clack of fingers on a keyboard over the phone.
“Okay. Thor’s doing fine. He’s resting and all his vitals look good.”
“What time do you open in the morning?”
“Seven thirty.”
“Thanks.” Chains ended the call and slipped his phone into the pocket of his leather jacket. The pulsating strains of hard rock filtered through the windows, and he looked at a group of scantily-clad women in high heels ambling toward the clubhouse. These women were thehang-aroundswho lined up outside the concrete walls four nights a week, hoping to be one of the lucky ones chosen to have a good time with the members. The parties, booze, weed, and lifestyle were a draw for many women who wanted a walk on the wild side.
Not in the mood for a club party, Chains strode over to his Harley and threw his leg over the leather seat. He switched on the ignition, then roared past the huddle of women waving at him. Chains turned left onto the old highway and increased the speed as he headed toward the small roads crisscrossing the desert. The cool wind brushing through his face, the spicy aroma of sagebrush washing over him, and the sound of the motor filling his ears embraced his senses and acted as oxygen to his soul. And it was exactly what he needed. Riding his bike always rebooted his system, bringing a sense of calm and ease to his mind and body. For Chains, it was the best and only therapy he knew that made him forget everything for a while.
An hour later, he pulled into the parking lot of Leroy’s—one of his and the club’s favorite diners in town. Feeling energized and refreshed, Chains hopped off the bike and sauntered into the eatery.
“Hey, good-looking,” Loretta said as the corners of her mouth turned up.
“Hey.” He pulled off his leather gloves and stuffed them in the pockets of his jacket.
“You got others comin’?” The curly-haired cashier asked.
