Stalked (Predators MC Book 4) Page 7

  Working steadily through the morning and afternoon, she double-checked the notes she made on each of her clients’ progress before taking off the “In Session” sign on her door and shutting and locking it behind her.

  Going to Penni’s office, she knocked on the door, then looked at her watch when no one answered. That’s when she realized it was already six. Penni and Grace would have left an hour ago.

  Curious about how her talk with Casey went, she was tempted to text her but didn’t want to pry.

  When she walked into the parking garage, the dark interior had Zoey shivering at the dismal isolation of the concrete structure. Her little car was the last one on the third level. When she reached her car, the fear that gripped her receded.

  Unlocking it, she was about to get inside when she saw a slip of paper under one of the windshield wipers. She snatched it up before quickly getting inside and locking the doors. Then she started the car before reading the handwritten note.

  “I like your picture. You’re welcome.” Reading the brief note out loud sounded ominous to her. It was the first time one of her tweets into the vast nothingness had resulted in this type of response.

  “Note to self: no more working past five,” she said.

  As soon as she drove out of the garage, she got irritated for being so overdramatic at a simple note.

  Not wanting to be cooped up for the rest of the night, she stopped by a sandwich shop, sitting alone as she ate part of her meal before tossing the rest away.

  Driving in the direction of her home, she stopped at a large metal gate, pushing a series of numbers. The gate swung open, allowing her inside.

  Parking, she walked into the front lobby to sign in before going up the graceful staircase. The hall was filled with numbered doors. Going to the third one, she keyed in the number to unlock it.

  The woman sitting on her bed looked at her helplessly with a hairbrush tangled in her hair.

  “Let me do that for you.” Zoey sat down on the bed next to the old woman, and then gently untangled the brush from her hair before meticulously brushing it out.

  “Ms. Karen wants to cut it.”

  The frail voice had her heart clenching in sympathy.

  “I’ll talk to her. Your hair is beautiful. I can wash it for you, so don’t worry. Stop frowning; you’ll get frown lines.”

  “You’re late. If you keep being late, my son will fire you.”

  “I’m thirty minutes early.” Zoey didn’t take offense at Mrs. Combs’ threat as she braided the long grey hair down her back.

  “You are?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s not seven-thirty?”

  “It’s seven.” Zoey pointed to the massive clock that she had searched for online before finding the biggest one. She hung it on the wall closest to the head of her bed so Mrs. Combs could easily read the numbers.

  “What do you want to watch tonight?” Zoey asked after she finished braiding the woman’s hair.

  “Is the news still on?”

  Turning to CNN, Zoey settled herself onto the chair next to Mrs. Combs’ bed.

  As the night grew on, she would get up to stretch and lower the volume of the television when her patient dozed off.

  It was eleven when Mrs. Combs awoke, fidgeting in her bed.

  “Zoey!”

  She reached for her hand. “I’m here.”

  “I need something to drink.”

  Zoey got her a drink.

  “I need Tylenol.”

  Zoey checked for the last time she was allowed to have it, then gave to her.

  “My leg hurts.”

  Zoey sat down on the end of her bed, moving the covers aside so she could rub the arthritic pain that the old woman suffered from.

  “I need Tylenol,” she demanded.

  “You just had it. Give it time to work.”

  “Zoey!”

  “I’m here.”

  Zoey didn’t become irritated at the demands that kept coming out of her mouth. Arthritic pain wasn’t the only thing she suffered from. Sundowners had kept most of the staff busy with Mrs. Combs until morning when she would finally slip into a deep sleep. The staff had tried to keep her awake during those hours, which had caused her to become aggressive. Her son faced having to find another assisted living facility to ease the strain on the nurses. After hiring Zoey as her nighttime aide, it allowed the woman to set her own schedule, which lessened the behavior, and she was easier for the nurses to care for.

  “I want a banana.”

  Zoey went to the small kitchen that only had a microwave and sink. Grabbing the banana, she brought it to her.

  The rest of the night was filled by catering to her demands. At six, she heard the door opening as a man came inside.

  “She asleep?”

  Zoey yawned stiffly, standing at Mrs. Combs’ son’s arrival. “About five minutes ago.”

  Patrick Combs was as brawny as his mother was frail. He was on the nursing staff at the facility and was able to monitor his mother during the day.

  “I work the next three days, so I won’t need you until Friday.”

  It was an arrangement that worked for them both, providing him a break from his mother. In exchange, Zoey was able to live rent-free in his mother’s home. Patrick had owned his home, and not wanting to sell his mother’s place, he had decided to rent it out instead.

  They met when she had gone to see the home after Patrick advertised it. When he learned she was a certified nursing aide, he made the offer for the job. It was the best decision she ever made. She had grown close to Patrick and his mother, and it gave her a home that she always wanted.

  “I baked Mom some banana bread.” Pat placed the loaf covered in aluminum foil on the counter in the kitchen. “I put the extra loaf in the front seat of your car.”

  At the mention of her car, Zoey remembered the note left on it.

  “Did you happen to bring me flowers yesterday?”

  Pat frowned at the question. “No. Why?”

  “Someone brought me flowers yesterday and left me a note on my car.”

  “It wasn’t me. You don’t have any idea who it could be? What did the note say?” His frown grew deeper.

  His brotherly concern had her needing to alleviate it.

  “If I knew who it was, I wouldn’t have asked if it was you. The note just said that he liked the picture I posted to Instagram and you’re welcome. It’s not a big deal. I was just curious if it was you.”

  “Let me know if he contacts you again. There’re a lot of weirdos in this world. I’ve been looking for the fuckwad who splashed you. When I find him, he’ll be looking at the weather report before he goes for a ride.”

  “It was an accident… I told you to forget about it. I have.” Zoey had no intention of telling her friend that she knew the identity of the rider.

  Patrick could be overprotective of her. At five-foot-eight, he wasn’t as tall as Stump, but he was more heavily built. His muscular arms showed under the shoulders of his scrubs. The black gauges in his ears gave his face a fierce appearance that had his patients wary of him until they got used to him and realized he was a big Teddy bear.

  “I’ve been asking around the clubs. I’ll find him.”

  “Patrick, I can take care of myself.” Bending down, she gently kissed his mother on her forehead. Rising, she then went to Patrick, raised up on her toes, and kissed his cheek.

  His face gentled as he stared down at her. “Sugar, you’re too sweet.”

  “Sugar melts in the rain. I’m more like rubber. I let things like getting drenched in the rain bounce off me.”

  “You have a positive quote for everything. Don’t you ever get angry?”

  Zoey gave him a mischievous wink. “I don’t get angry. I get even.”

  7

  “What’s wrong with Hannibal?”

  Max threw back the ball that he tossed to the listless dog.

  “Damned if I know.” Stump threw the ball again, trying to p
ique the dog’s interest.

  Both men watched the ball land and roll away while Hannibal just rested his head on his paws, staring at it uninterestedly.

  “He’s not eating either.” He hadn’t switched the food, despite the dog’s traitorous behavior.

  “Maybe he’s sick. Take him to the vet,” Max suggested.

  “I did. He said Hannibal’s depressed.”

  “Dogs get depressed?”

  “They must. That’s what the vet said.”

  “Rub his belly. Maybe that will work.”

  “I’m not rubbing his damn belly.”

  “Dogs love having their bellies rubbed.”

  “How in the fuck do you know?”

  “I saw it in a movie. I can’t remember the name of it. When I do, I’ll let you know.”

  “Don’t bother. I don’t want to watch a movie you watched when you were a kid.”

  “It was last week. Don’t look at me that way. The only television I get to watch anymore are cartoons and documentaries.”

  “That’s why I don’t have kids. I didn’t watch cartoons when I was a kid, and I’m damn sure not going to watch them now.”

  “I’ll remind you of that when you have kids.”

  “Hell will freeze over first. I’m not having any.”

  “Why not? I love them.”

  “Everyone in Queen City knows you do. You’ve fathered half the population.”

  Max laughed, slapping him on the back. “I don’t know why your dog is depressed—you’re funny as hell.”

  “I think he’s missing Zoey.” Stump bent down to rub the dejected dog’s back.

  “He was with her one night, and that was a week ago. He could have worms. Have you checked his shit?”

  “No, I didn’t check his shit. If you want to check it out, most of the backyard is filled with it. Check it out yourself.”

  When Max started walking toward the grass, Stump rolled his eyes.

  “He doesn’t have worms. The vet checked.”

  “Then why did you tell me to check it out?”

  “I didn’t think you would do it!”

  “I’m not scared of a little shit. You should see some of those diapers I have to change—”

  “It’s not worms!”

  “Okay, okay. Chill. If it’s not worms, then I’m all out of ideas.”

  “Thank God!”

  “Brother, I’m just trying to help.”

  “If I need advice, I’d hire the kook.”

  “What kook?”

  “Zoey.”

  “She’s not a kook.”

  Stump cocked an eyebrow at Max. “How do you know?”

  Embarrassed, Max turned toward the club. “Lunch hour is over. I need to get back to work.”

  “Whoa… hold up. What’s the hurry? You don’t have to be back to work for another thirty minutes. Don’t tell me you follow that kook.”

  “Shhh… quit calling her a kook. Someone could hear you.”

  Stump stared around the empty backyard of the clubhouse, confused. “Like who? And why would I give a fuck?”

  “Some of the bitches follow her and would tell on us if they heard you calling Zoey a kook. You may not have an old lady to keep happy, but I do. I don’t want to get stuck babysitting all my kids by myself because you think she’s a wacko. I think she’s great,” Max said in a raised voice so no one could misinterpret and blame him for something he was saying.

  “Damn, if you’re so scared about saying something about Zoey, I’ll babysit for you if Casey gets mad.”

  “No offense, but Casey doesn’t like you, and I don’t think Grace and Penni do either.”

  “Why doesn’t Casey like me?”

  “She hasn’t forgiven you for not stopping Lizard and Snake when they tried to fuck her.”

  “I was drunk as fuck that night. I didn’t even touch her, and I still ended up in the emergency room with Lizard and Snake that night. My back hasn’t been the same since.”

  “Brother, count yourself lucky you don’t have metal pins like Lizard and Snake.”

  “I do. I haven’t gotten that drunk since. I’ve apologized a dozen times to Casey, and she said we’re cool.”

  “She lied.”

  “Damn, anything I can do?”

  “Not likely. I’m fine with her hating you, and so are Ice and Jackal. When something goes down at the club, we blame it on you.”

  “Thanks a lot,” he said, chaffing at the idea that the married men were using him as a scapegoat.

  “No problem.” Max, on the other hand, had no problem letting him be the scapegoat if it kept his ass out of trouble.

  “Come, Hannibal.” Going to the car that Ice kept for the bitches to go on beer or food runs, he opened the back door, gesturing for the dog to jump inside. “Let’s go to the dog park. Maybe we’ll find a cute poodle to put you in a better mood. Can you watch him a sec while I go get the keys?” he asked Max as the man was getting on his bike, about to go back to work.

  “Hurry up. I don’t have all day,” he said, turning his bike back off.

  “And they say I’m a fucking asshole,” Stump muttered, going inside the club. It took him a few minutes because he couldn’t find the keys where Ice usually kept them. He was talking to Crush when Max came running through the back door.

  “Hannibal took off.”

  “Fuck!” Stump rushed out of the club, hoping he would be able to catch him before he disappeared from sight. “Which direction did he go?” he asked as Max followed him outside.

  Max pointed in the direction of the city. Stump narrowed his eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of his dog, but he was already out of sight.

  “Get Crush to find the keys to the car and follow me.” Stump swung his leg over the seat of his bike.

  “Crush can follow you. I have to get back to work,” Max grumbled, starting to go inside.

  “You let him go, now you’re going to help me find him. How did he get out of the car?”

  “He looked hot, and I felt sorry for him. I was just opening the door to give him some air.”

  “It’s sixty-three degrees out here—he wasn’t hot. He was playing you. Get the key and start looking. And tell Crush to keep her mouth shut. If Grace finds out, she’ll take my dog.”

  Stump took off before Max could say anything else. He kept on the lookout for his dog as he gunned his motor. The club was far enough away from town that he didn’t have to worry about Hannibal becoming roadkill until he hit the city limits.

  A lump formed in his throat. The dog had been a thorn in his ass since he’d seen his head poking out of the box, but he was attached to him. From first sight, Stump had known that dog was meant for him, and he didn’t give up anything that was his property.

  Speeding up, he watched any movement that could be Hannibal. Max caught up with him before he hit the city’s limits. They both slowed when traffic forced them to.

  Calling Max, he told him to start searching the next street so they could cover more ground.

  An idea came to him as he disconnected. Hannibal could be heading to Grace’s office like he had the last time he got away.

  He kept his eyes on the lookout as he rode to Grace’s office building. Parking out front, he strode toward the building, calling his dog’s name, frustrated that he could be losing time and Hannibal could be getting farther away from him or getting struck and killed by a car. That thought had him wanting to find Max and beat the hell out of him.

  Walking around the entire building, he was coming around the corner when he saw Penni and Grace walking together toward the front.

  Quickly, he slunk back to the side where they wouldn’t be able to see him. His heart was beating hard in his chest.

  Feeling like a pussy for being afraid of them, he dug his nails into the palm of his hands.

  “I’m going to shove Max’s patch up his ass when I get back to the clubhouse,” he promised himself, poking his head around the side of the building to make sure Penni a
nd Grace were inside.

  When it was clear, he went back to the front of the building and tried calling for Hannibal again.

  Raking a hand through his hair, he went back to his bike, hoping to catch sight of his dog if he showed up.

  “You find him?” he checked in with Max after calling him.

  “I would have called if I had. Where are you?”

  “I went to Grace’s office building to look for him there. He isn’t.”

  “I can give you ten more minutes, then I have to get back to work.” Max’s voice told him that no threat was going to get more time out of him. “Anywhere else he likes to go?”

  “No….” Stump thought hard of places he had taken Hannibal. As long as it had a patch of grass, his dog didn’t give a fuck.

  “Could he have gone to where the kook lives?”

  “He only spent the one night with her.”

  “You say all the time how smart he is.”

  “He’s not that smart.”

  Grace had taken Hannibal to work several times when he was a puppy, and he had taken him to see her sporadically since having him, so Hannibal must have remembered the direction from the clubhouse to the office building. There was no way he could find Zoey’s house. Or, could he?

  Hanging up on Max, he punched another number into his phone and called Ice.

  “What’s Zoey’s address?” Stump didn’t give him time to say anything before he asked the quick question.

  “Why?” Ice’s sleepy voice answered.

  “Because I want it; that’s why. What it is?” Stump demanded.

  “Brother, don’t press your luck because I’m half-asleep. Why do you want her address?”

  “Max let Hannibal out, and I think he might have gone there. Satisfied now? What is it?”

  Ice’s cold voice rattled out the address that Stump keyed into his phone.

  “Later.”

  Stump could hear Ice cursing as he disconnected the call. Googling the address, he saw it wasn’t far away.

  Starting his bike, he took off.

  Running two red lights and going doing several alleys, he made it in ten minutes.

  Slowing his bike to look at the house numbers, he gripped his handlebars when he saw Zoey squatting down and petting Hannibal.