4

The insufferable boy was missing for four days. Well, not missing, but that was what it felt like when he didn't show up at the hospital or pop up in front of me in the most random places. He stalked me, but I figured he was harmless, so I didn't get the police involved, although Ben had suggested a restraining order when he was still the chief of police. He should talk now that he was shacking up with a biker.

I hated that I noticed his absence. Hated that my mood had soured during those four days, and most of all, I hated that my heart skipped a beat whenever a shadow appeared, only to find out that person was not him.

Maybe I'd finally gotten through to him, and he had given up. I should host a celebration at the hospital with all the people he'd terrorized and made uncomfortable. Instead, I was on the phone with James hemming and hawing while I tried to come up with a reason to visit the clubhouse that didn't seem suspect.

"Dr. Collier, what's really going on?" James said, sounding breathless. "In case I didn't make it obvious, I was on top of my Daddy when you called."

Thatwas an image I didn't need in my head. How such a delicate femme boy topped the burly older biker was beyond me. He must have been damn good, since that man looked at him like he hung the damn moon.

"And you answered?" I asked.

"You never call me unless something crucial happened at the hospital and you need me. Who cares what I'll be wearing at the charity gala? That's still weeks away. I'm getting laid, and after this, I'm convinced you need to get laid too. Maybe the next time Bloom propositions you, you'll take him up on his offer."

I stifled a groan. Why had I confided in James about Bloom throwing himself at me when I'd last seen him? He'd stalked me and frustrated me to death. He kept on saying we were in a relationship, but until that day, he'd never gotten sexual with me. Well, there were the pictures—hot, naked pictures I should delete from my phone—but when we were together, he was more like an annoying baby koala who wanted attention all the time. The kind of attention I didn't have the time to give anyone.

"That's the last time I confide in you, James. Carry on with your…chore, then."

I ended the call and ran my fingers through my hair. Stupid. Phoning James had accomplished nothing. The knowing smirk he wore every time he saw me since I'd told him what Bloom did would only get bigger.

What had I been thinking?

I hit the space bar on my computer twice to wake up the screen and opened the scheduling system we used at the hospital. With one of our staff members moving out of state, the rest of us would have to pick up the slack until we hired a replacement. Smoky Vale Gen was one of the least desirable hospitals in the state, and finding someone could take months. I'd promised to work as many extra hours as needed, so the rest of the staff didn't have to work longer than necessary. My life didn't amount to much more than work anyway.

My pager went off and I checked to find one of the nurses needed me. I rang back the number.

"Dr. Collier." If only I had a receptionist, but hospitals couldn't afford such a thing. An entire wing was closed since some pipes broke and caused a flood, revealing some serious structural damages. Management had already started an extension work for VIP rooms and used it as an excuse to drag their feet on conducting the much-needed repairs to the wing. As if the regular people of Smoky Vale could afford VIP. To compete with Hargreaves, the private hospital, they were forgetting the reason for the hospital's existence in the first place.

"Dr. Collier." Nurse Riley's voice was strained. "We have a patient wishing to see you, sir."

"Dr. Otto is making the rounds. Ask her to see them."

"She tried, sir, but the patient refuses to have anyone else treat him but you."

"Then he doesn't need medical attention. Send him home."

Who refused help when they needed it?

"He's rather difficult to handle, sir. Not only is he rude and insulting to the staff, but he seems rather dangerous. If you don't show up, Dr. Otto says we should call security. After all, you're the one who's enabled him."

I sat up straight, my chair creaking under the sudden movement. Bloom. He could only be talking about Bloom. I clenched my ass in my chair to keep sitting. Did they all think I enabled him? If I went, I would only prove their point.

"Like I said, Nurse Riley. If he doesn't want to see a doctor, he doesn't need help. Have security escort him out if that's what it takes."

Just what trick did he have up his sleeve this time? Medical attention. I scoffed. Once I closed the door to his room, I would no doubt find him naked, asking me to give him a voluntary prostate exam.

"Okay, Dr. Collier. I'll try again to convince him to let me at least stop the bleeding—"

"Bleeding?" I catapulted to my feet. "You didn't mention anything about blood. He's bleeding?"

"Yes, sir. Quite a bit."

"Where is he?"

As soon as he confirmed the examination room, I hurried out of my office, my lab coat billowing behind me. What had happened? Was it a serious injury? I should have asked before hanging up. Those damn bikers were always getting shot, knifed, hit by cars, and god only knew what else James had to patch them up for. I only saw them when the cases were so serious enough James wasn't sure of the best way to handle them and he wanted my input.

My stomach cramped when I skidded to a stop outside the room. My hand shook as I opened the door. Bloom was sitting on a chair next to the examination table. Amanda, one of our new nurses, stood a few feet away from him with some gauze, looking stressed out at the thought of approaching Bloom.

"Dr. Collier, you're here!" Amanda said.

I swept my gaze past her to Bloom. He wore black jeans shorts and black ripped stockings beneath. He seemed immune to the blood running down his left leg, dripping into his boot and on the floor.

"Jesus Christ." I rushed forward, slipped on a pair of disposable gloves, and grabbed the handful of gauze from the nurse. I went down on one knee in front of Bloom and pressed the gauze to the wound. There was so much blood. How deep was the wound? "I need to get you out of these clothes so I can see what I'm working with here. Amanda, will you help him get undressed?"

"If she puts a finger on me, I'll bite it off," Bloom said. "You do it."

I heaved a sigh. "Amanda, you may go."

"Thank you, Dr. Collier," she said, the relief in her voice palpable as she practically fled the room.

"I think your staff's afraid of me."

"What do you expect when you threaten to bite their fingers off?"

"Come on, I was joking. Partly."

"What is it with you and wanting to eat people?"

"I only want to eat you."

"Work with me here. There's so much fucking blood."

"Ooh, Dr. Collier, you said a bad word."

I gritted my teeth. "Now's not the time, Bloom, or don't you see that you're bleeding all over my floor?"

"At least you're touching me."

"I have to touch you to take care of you. Will you be an obedient boy for once?"

"Okay, Dr. Collier. I'll be your good boy."

His words, simple yet charged, sent a shiver down my spine. My hands were less steady than moments before. The air felt thicker, and my breath came out shorter.

How the hell did his agreement become even more lethal than when we argued?

I worked on his boots, took them off, and put them to the side. "I need you to get up for a minute so I can remove your jeans. Keep the gauze pressed to your thigh and balance on your good foot."

"Which one?"

"Dammit, Bloom."

He had an erection. Erections weren't uncommon during traumatic injuries, but the way he was grinning at me as though proud of it made me grit my teeth. How he could flirt at a time like this beyond me. I ignored the stiffness at the front of his pants and concentrated on carefully pulling the jeans down his round ass. My hands grazed naked flesh. His cock popped free with a delightful bounce that made me gulp. He wasn't wearing underwear. He was more hung than I would have thought for a guy his size.

"I haven't done laundry in a while," he said. "What do you think? Do you like how big my cock is? Do you want to suck it?"

My throat went dry.

He's bleeding. That's what you're taking care of, not the other blood flow problem.

"Are you hurt in any other places?"

Just keep peeling those clothes off. You see naked patients every day, and none of them affect you.

"Yes."

I snapped my head up. "Where?"

He pressed a hand to his chest. "In here every time you ignore me."

I inhaled sharply. He sounded hurt. My pulse throbbed in my neck.

Don't let him get to you. He's a manipulator.

"After the count of two, raise the gauze so I can get these off. The blood's not dried yet, so we shouldn't need scissors. Ready?"

"No."

"Bloom—"

"Answer me first. Do you like me or not?"

"That hardly matters, Bloom."

"Of course it matters. It's the only thing that matters to me. Will you at least tell me if you hate me?"

What harm could it do? I let out a sigh. "I don't hate you."

His lips quirked up in the happiest smile, and his usual intense gaze softened. One would have thought I'd just confirmed my undying love for him.

"But I don't hate anyone."

"Too late. We're talking about me, not everyone. As long as you don't hate me, I can get you to fall in love with me."

"Bloom, stop talking and lift your ass. Here we go, after two. One. Two."

He worked in sync with me, lifting and removing the gauze so I could peel down his pants. I draped the clothes over the arm of the chair as Bloom sank back down in it. I gently took his leg and examined the deep gash that ran from the inside of his thigh almost to his kneecap. It was a jagged, ugly wound and the skin around it was already clammy and pale.

"How are you not feeling any pain right now?" I asked.

"I took two painkillers right after it happened."

"What kind?"

"Why?"

"Some painkillers increase bleeding."

"Oh, I didn't know that."

He mentioned an over-the-counter brand, and I nodded, satisfied. "It looks relatively clean, but I'll still need to sterilize the wound and stitch you up. I'll have to administer a local anesthetic first."

"Okay." His forehead was creased with a frown, and his earlier playfulness was gone.

"Sit on the table."

I washed my hands, slid on a pair of fresh sterile gloves then fetched the medical supplies. He lay spread out on his back with his lower half naked. His erection had softened, thank god.

I carefully draped the white sheet up to cover his groin, leaving out the bleeding thigh. Bloom flinched as I cleaned the area around the gash with an antiseptic wipe, but he remained silent. I opened the sterile package with the small vial of local anesthetic and a syringe. Most patients looked away at this point, but Bloom watched me as I cleared the liquid into the syringe and tapped the side to remove any air bubbles until a small bead of liquid appeared at the tip.

"I think my leg's better," Bloom said, his voice laced with fear.

He was afraid of needles? I raised my eyebrows. "You're covered in tattoos. You're telling me you're afraid of the needle?"

"It's different."

"You're right. You'll feel a sting, but it will be over before you know it."

As I applied the anesthetic around the wound, Bloom's grip on the table tightened. But he didn't make a sound.

"It'll take a few minutes for the area to go numb. Why don't you tell me why you're afraid of needles?"

Bloom bowed his head. "It's not just the needles, but the setting. Too familiar." A faraway look settled in his eyes. "Hospital room, the scent of antiseptic and bleach, people asking me questions, always asking me questions. The needles they used to control me." He rubbed his nose. "Especially in the beginning, when my brothers found me."

"Found you?"

He smiled, the change startling me. "Sneaky doctor. You almost had me sharing all my secrets with you."

Not at all. Just some to make me better understand him. No one became the way Bloom did without having experienced a traumatic past. A past I'd never cared to know about.

"If you want to know about my entire past, ask me out on my first date."

First date? I blinked, my mind reeling. If he was to be believed, he was a virgin who'd never been on his first date. Would he also try to convince me he'd never kissed anyone?

"I'm not going on a date with you."

"Why not? A few nights ago, a woman hit on me. If she wants in my pants, why don't you?"

"A woman hit on you?" Jealousy seized me, its icy grip holding me hostage. His eyes were lit with a devilish glint like he could read my emotions. I cleared my throat. "You should go on a date with her."

"Impossible. I'm not into women. I'm not into anyone but you."

"Bloom—"

"Are you going to stitch me now?"

Without a word, I washed the inside and edges of the wound with a sterile solution, then picked up the sterilized suture kit and unfolded it on a clean tray. I selected the needle and thread—fine enough to minimize scarring but strong enough to hold the wound together effectively. I started at one end of the gash, carefully bringing the edges together and stitching with precision.

As I worked, Bloom watched me, which rattled my nerves. Once the stitching was complete, I cut the thread and applied a thin layer of antibiotic ointment over the stitches to promote healing and reduce the risk of infection. Finally, I covered the wound with a clean, sterile bandage, securing it in place.

"There, all done." I disposed of the used medical supplies and removed my gloves. "You'll need to keep the bandage clean and dry. Also, try to avoid any strenuous activities that might strain the stitches. You need to come back in for a follow-up to check on the healing progress and have the stitches removed when it's time."

Bloom nodded. "Thank you, Dr. Collier," he said, his voice husky. From the tent in the sheet, he was hard again. What a weird boy. Did he have a pain kink? That would explain so much.

And it was way more than I needed to know.

"I don't suggest you put those clothes back on. I have a shirt in my closet you can wear, or you can call someone to bring you a change of clothing."

"I'd rather wear your shirt."

Why didn't his choice surprise me? I had no right to feel as pleased as I did. Bloom dressed in my clothes was way too personal. "All right, stay right here, and I'll get it."

On my way to my office, I passed the nurses' station. The three women fell silent. They were discussing me, all right, and another doctor couldn't meet my eyes. I nodded at them, but I felt sick to my stomach.

What had happened to keeping Bloom at arm's length? One incident and I was tripping over my feet to take care of him.

Frowning, I unlocked my office and entered. I had one purpose in Smoky Vale, and that was to save lives. No matter how much I longed for more, there was nothing else to this life except death, and I'd do well to keep that in mind when around Bloom.

I dialed the nurses' station and asked for a nurse to come to my office. I wrote a prescription for painkillers and antibiotics for Bloom, which I handed to the nurse along with the shirt I had taken out of my closet. Given how often I slept on the pullout couch, I kept several clothes and toiletries in my office.

When the nurse left, I returned to the work I had been doing before they called me about Bloom. Was he giving them any trouble, or would he leave quietly? What if he refused to get dressed unless I was there?

Not your problem, Doc. There's security at the hospital for a reason.

But every time I thought about security, my stomach sank. Bloom was a fighter. He wouldn't react well to security interference. Perhaps I should…

I pulled my hand away from the phone. Nurse Riley had said I enabled him. I couldn't always interfere and let him get away with unacceptable behavior. How would he learn the consequences of his actions?

A fist pounded on my door. What the hell? The door was flung open on its hinges, and Bloom walked in, his cheeks red and eyes flashing, dressed in my long-sleeved shirt, which reached almost to his knees. He'd belted the waist with one of his chains. With the top two buttons undone, showing off the lighthouse tattoo on his neck, and his bare legs, he looked stunning, like he'd just crawled out of my bed. His disposition was also nothing like the young man I'd been patching up earlier. His eyes were hard as if he was one step away from killing someone.

Either me or the nurse running behind him.

"Dr. Collier, explain yourself."

"Why are you running around on your leg?" I frowned. "Nurse Riley!"

"He's stubborn and won't listen. Honestly, Doctor, I don't know how you put up with him."

"Because I'm good in bed." Bloom arched an eyebrow. "You should go if you don't want to see us make out on his desk."

"Bloom—"

"He's nothing but trouble, Dr. Collier." Nurse Riley walked stiffly out of the office, his back ramrod straight, and shut the door with a bang. I massaged my temples. What the hell did I do in a previous life to deserve this?

You know exactly what you did.

"You should call someone to pick you up."

Bloom limped around my desk and plopped his ass down in my lap. "You didn't come back. You said you were going for the shirt, but instead of bringing it, you copped out and sent the nurse. In case I didn't make it clear, Dr. Collier, I didn't show up here for a nurse to take care of me. I wanted you to do it."

"This is inappropriate. You can't call me Dr. Collier and sit on my lap."

"Logan, then."

The way he whispered my name sent a shiver down my spine. The sensation tapped into a part of me I'd been keeping locked away since I met him.

If I never have to treat another biker in my life, it won't be soon enough. I clench my teeth as I check the vitals of the man lying on the hospital bed. Next to him, the former mayor looks on concerned, and I shake my head in disbelief. He's a smart man. I've heard his campaigns before, and he always hated bikers. Always wanted to get them out of Smoky Vale, but here he is fawning over one.

Just what the hell do these bikers have that make sensible men lose a screw? James, my protégé, is smart as a whip, but he's with one of them. Is it the thrill? Their personalities? Are they good in bed? It has to be something specific that makes perfectly upstanding citizens give them their loyalty. So what if they are good-looking, virile men? Their lifestyle should have sent anyone with half a brain cell scurrying in the opposite direction.

"You're lucky the bullet didn't shatter your collarbone," I grumble. "In a few days—"

The door to the room opens, and I lose the last straw I've been clutching. "Didn't I ask not to be disturbed?"

A young man who looks to be in his late teens enters the room. Most people would have flinched at my waspish tone and ducked out of the room, but he is unbothered. I do a double take at the straight black hair that falls past his shoulders, the heavily applied mascara, the eye shadow, and the pink lips. He wore full black, but his top is cropped, showing off more piercings than the two in his cheeks and the one in the center of his top lip. He has jewelry in his belly button and couplets just above his hips. Tattoos cover his pale skin.

Who is he? If I'd seen him before, I wouldn't have forgotten him. He has the kind of look that's memorable. His youth aside, he isn't even my type, being too slender and effeminate looking, but even I can't stop staring.

"One more is hardly a disturbance," he says, his hard gaze challenging. "You aren't really going to kick me out. Are you, Doc?" He sweeps his gaze over me, brows raising as if in surprise. He shifts his weight to his other foot, twirls a lock of hair between his fingers, and bats his long lashes at me.

The breath flies out of my lungs. Such a commanding energy. He's demanding to be seen, and it's working. I tear my gaze away, resisting the urge to take another glance. I scribble on Bay's chart, ignoring the impertinent boy, who smells too much like trouble. "In a few days, you should be able to go home. We'll see you to dress your wounds as an outpatient, or James can handle it at the clubhouse. You may feel fine, but your body's been through trauma. You need to rest." This time I have a good excuse to stare at the young man. He hasn't taken his eyes off me, and it takes effort to act like it doesn't throw me off balance. "And limit your visitors."

He smirks. "I'd love to see the day someone limits me. Here's a clue, Doc. It won't be you."

That challenge. If he only knew I'd chosen my profession due to the challenging nature of the job. Too bad I am not looking to limit him or anyone, but if I did, I would have put him across my knee until he learned some manners.

I shake my head. "Where are your parents, little boy? They know the company you keep?"

Silence, thick and suspenseful, fills the room. I frown. Bay is clutching Gerald and has gone pale. Is it something I'd said?

A laugh peals out of the young man. His eyes are crinkled, and his lips curve into an amused grin. Sweet Mary, but when he smiles, his whole face lights up. He is the most stunning creature I've ever seen. He saunters over, circling me like a vulture, waving his index finger.

"I'll tell you a little secret, Doc. They can't know anything. Not after what I've done to them. Hacked them into small pieces. I was so hungry at the time I almost ate them."

Despite the humor on his face, his eyes are fierce black holes that seem to dare me. Dare me to do what? The way the biker in the bed is reacting doesn't help. Why am I even entertaining them? I've done my duty. Time to put distance between me and this boy.

"Ridiculous." I grab the boy's hand, shove it away from me, and march to the door. Dammit, I can still feel his gaze digging into my back, sending a shiver down my spine and making the hairs at my nape stand up.

"Is that a yes to our date?" he calls. "I'll find you."

Has he sensed the way I can't keep my eyes off him? It means nothing. His sense of style just took me by surprise.

I slam the door closed on his preposterous offer. Me, date him? Not likely. A boy like that is nothing but trouble. I preferred more mature men who understood what it meant to have a one-night stand.

Bloom wriggled on my lap, pulling me out of my trance. I frowned. What were we talking about again? The conversation came back to me and, with it, the implication of his earlier statement.

"Wait a minute." I rested my hand on the arm of the chair to avoid touching him. "What do you mean you didn't show up here for a nurse to take care of you? It's not like you stabbed yourself on purpose."

For such a mouthy boy, he'd sure gone quiet fast. Stunned, I stared at his profile. No, he couldn't have. How sick would he have to be to stab himself in the thigh so that I would take care of him?

"Bloom, please tell me you didn't."

"It was an accident at first. But when I saw the cut, I got the idea, so I made it bigger."

Oh my god. He had to be kidding, but his matter-of-fact expression held no remorse, no understanding of the gravity of what he'd done. I wanted to throttle him and, at the same time, tie his hands together so he couldn't hurt himself anymore. The boy was a menace to himself.

My pager went off. The sharp buzz of the device was like a bucket of ice water—shocking me back to reality. It was an emergency call from the ER. My stomach churned. How could I leave him knowing what he'd done? What if he did something more extreme?

"I have to go."

"Do you?" He leaned into my chest and sighed. "I don't know why, but I always feel comfortable with you. Do you feel it too?"

I swallowed. "Bloom, I need to tend to patients. It could be life or death."

"Then let them die."

I plucked him off my lap gently and set him on his feet. "Promise me you won't hurt yourself anymore."

He raised his chin and pouted. "Tell me you care about me first."

"Bloom, I don't have the time for this."

He shrugged. "Okay, then. You just might come back to find my dead body on your desk." He picked up my letter opener and ran the sharp edges along his thumb. "This would work, don't you think?"

I sucked in a deep breath, the image his words evoked causing my heart to constrict painfully. He was going to drive me up the wall. I didn't know when to take him seriously, but his death, especially by his own hands, could only be taken gravely.

I took the letter opener from him, but so what? He could find several things in the room to do it if he really meant it. My beeper went off again, but my feet remained rooted to the spot as ambivalence weighed heavily on my mind. If I left, I could save someone's life, and if I did, he could lose his.

"Hey, I'm joking." He grabbed a handful of my lab coat and tugged on it. "Would I die so easily when I haven't made you fall in love with me yet?"

I let out a shaky breath. "Don't go anywhere. Do not leave this office. Do you hear me? We need to finish this conversation before you do anything else rash."

"Okay."

"I am serious, Bloom." I stopped at the door with my hand on the handle. "If you disobey me, I swear to you that you will have no chance with me."

His face split into a grin. "What I'm hearing is that I have a shot."

I shut the door. I hadn't said that at all.