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A man with a mission. A woman with a calling. Can they figure things out or are they destined to fail?
Crash has done it again. Sometimes he feels like he's lucky to have survived. There's a reason his brothers call him Crash. Now he's stuck recovering from his latest mishap on wheels, but is he ready for Amber?
Amber has seen it all before. Tough guys and those who never let you see that they're hurting. But she wasn't prepared for one who let people see that soft core. Was there more to the man than just his rough motorcycle club exterior?
Can Crash and Amber make it past the rule of never become involved with your patient? Can they make it work or are they destined to wanting each other from afar? Check out this hot, falling for the caregiver romance today!
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Seitenzahl: 73
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This Demented Souls book, like all the Souls books, is dedicated to my dad, Wilmer ‘Billy’ Stephens.
When I started the series I used him as a major resource, as he’d been a police officer, machinist, gun smith, Harley rider, mechanic and so much more.
Now that he’s gone, I write them in his memory.
Thanks Dad.
While I was growing up, my father had two of the best friends I’ve ever known of. They are the ones who taught me that family is more than just who you’re related to. As I was working on Maverick we lost the last of them. Now that all three are gone, I miss the others nearly as much as I miss Dad.
From here on out, the Demented Souls books are dedicated to the men who taught me all about brothers by choice.
Frank Edwards (1950-2006)
Wilmer Stephens (Dad) (1952-2017)
George Claridge (1955-2022)
Searing pain woke him.
He opened his eyes only to slam them shut against the bright, painful light that seared through his eyes and into his brain. Voices surrounded him, but he couldn’t tell what they were saying. He tried to remember where he was and how he’d gotten there not to mention why he hurt so bad, but the last thing he remembered was leaving the club house. How long ago had that been? Fire shot up his right leg. Crash clenched his teeth to keep from screaming.
Blackness washed over him.
The next time he woke, he hurt, but not as badly as before. The bright light was gone and the room was only normally lit. He lifted tried to lift his arm to rub his face but found it didn’t want to move. He lifted his head and that’s when he realized he was in a hospital. He tried to remember how he’d gotten here, but there was nothing that told him why he was in the hospital.
“You’re awake, that’s good.” A young woman in scrubs moved around the edge of the curtain. “I’ll let your doctor know. Is there anything I can do for you?”
Crash tried to speak, but no sound came out.
She picked up a pitcher Crash hadn’t noticed and poured some into a cup then offered him a drink through a straw. “Is that better?”
“Much, thank you.” He swallowed again. “How did I get here?”
“Your chart says you were in an auto accident, Mr. Zettwich.”
“Crash.”
“Yes, a crash.”
“No, not Zettwich. My name’s Crash.”
Her brows shot up. “Your name’s Crash?”
“Yes, ma’am.” His mind started to clear, a little. He could think, but it was slow. Whatever they’d done to help the fiery pain that had woken him this time left him a little fuzzy around the edges.
“Not ma’am, I’m Tara.”
“Nice to meet you, Tara. How long have I been here?”
“About a day. We were starting to wonder when you were going to wake.”
Exhaustion pulled at him, or maybe it was the medication they had to still be giving him from the dull throb of most of his body. It was becoming difficult to follow what she was saying as sleep and confusion dragged at his brain.
“I can see the meds are effecting you, so I’ll let you rest. If you need anything just hit the call button right here.” She pulled what looked like a paddle attached to a thick cord. “There are a few other things it does but right now you’re only concerned with the red call button.”
“I’ll try to remember it.” His words sounded slurred even to him.
“No worries if you don’t. We’ll check on you in a while. The doctor will be by in a couple hours. We’ll wake you if you’re sleeping. He can answer any questions you may have.”
Crash’s eyes drifted shut despite his trying to keep them open.
“Mr. Zettwich, how are you today?” An unfamiliar voice dragged Crash back to consciousness.
He blinked his eyes open and found a doctor that looked like he’d only recently finished high school standing over him. But he had to have finished medical school, didn’t he?
“I’d be a lot better if I knew what was going on, or how I got here.”
The doctor scanned the tablet in his hand. “I’m Doctor Rucker. I wasn’t in the ER when you came in, but I did the surgery to put your leg back together.”
“My leg?” Crash tried to sit up and look but couldn’t. A nurse, not the same one from before, found the remote and helped lift the head of the bed. As the bed lifted, he was able to see that his right leg was elevated and seemed to be held together by a bunch of pins and rods. The sight made him a little queasy, so he closed his eyes and took a deep breath before looking back to the young-looking doctor. “I’m guessing I’ll be here a while then?”
“A few days, we want to check a few things, make sure you’re healing okay then we’ll send you to rehab. If you don’t need more urgent care, there’s no reason to keep you here.”
“You still haven’t told me how I got here.”
“Your chart says auto accident, but from your injuries, and some of the people I’ve spoken too about you, I’d guess motorcycle accident is more accurate.”
“Yeah, probably, but I’m not sure because I can’t remember anything about it.”
“That’s not uncommon. You could remember in time, or may it may always be a blank, there’s no way to tell.” The doctor talked for a few minutes about the details of his injuries and the plan to get Crash out of there and back on his feet. “Is there anything else I can answer for you?”
Crash fell silent, blinking a couple times as he tried to make his brain work through the fog of the pain meds.
“I don’t think so, not right now. When will you be back if I come up with something?”
“I’ll see you again tomorrow if everything goes well.”
“Okay. I’ll try to keep from making you have to come back.”
“just let the nurses know if you need anything, they’ll take good care of you.” He spoke to the nurse standing on the other side of Crash’s bed, then left.
“I’m starving. When’s the next meal?”
She glanced at the clock. “They should be around with your dinner in about an hour, but I’ll see if I can find you something for between now and then. Is there anything else I can get you?”
“How do I turn that on?” He nodded toward the TV hanging in the corner of his room. He didn’t know if he had the attention span to follow anything right now, but some kind of noise to distract him from the sounds of people passing outside his door would be welcome.
“Controls are on the bed remote.” She lifted it up and laid it across his lap, so Crash could reach it with his left hand, as his right was taped to a board and had tubes and wires all around, reminding him of the last time Gizmo had been messing with the TV in the clubhouse.
“Thanks.”
“Is that all?”
“Other than food, yeah.”
“I’ll check on that. If you need anything, remember to call the nurse’s station, that’s the red button on your remote.”
“Will do.” She left, leaving the door open, and Crash hit the power button on the remote turning the TV on. He hadn’t even had time to register what was on when a knock sounded on the open door. Before he could say anything, a familiar face stepped into view.
“How are you?” Tuck, his club president asked as he stepped into the room.
“Looks like I did a good job of it this time.” Crash waved his left hand at his scary looking injured leg. “You wouldn’t happen to know what happened, would you?”
Tuck gave his head slow shake. “Man, it was brutal.” He paused a second, then continued. “You got hit by a car that ran a red light. It was a bad one.”
“You saw it?”
“No, I was in front of you. One brothers and the prospects were behind you and saw it. We’ll come in and visit off and on but they’re limiting your visitors. They said they’ll loosen up the restrictions once they move you to rehab. Any idea when they’ll do that?”