Trusting Thorn (Miami Saints MC #5)

Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

Oakland

Two Weeks Later

With a smile on my face, I make my way to the nurse’s station. Today is my first day back after spending two perfect weeks living with Thorn.

My smile drops when I think about how the person who broke into my trailer is still out there.

"Oakland!" Harley's excited voice breaks me from my thoughts. "Girl, I've missed you!"

I roll my eyes playfully as she pulls me in for a tight hug. "I've only been gone two weeks and you've seen me several times at the clubhouse."

"True, but this place isn't the same without you," she says, pulling back to look at me. "There's something different about you." Her eyes narrow playfully as

heat seeps into my cheeks.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Bullshit," she laughs, stepping back and crossing her arms. "You're practically glowing. Someone's been getting the D on the regular?"

I can feel the heat rolling off my cheeks. “I can't believe you just said that!" I whisper, looking around to see if anyone heard her. She's not wrong, but the last thing I want is strangers gossiping about my personal life.

Harley squeals loudly, drawing way too much unwanted attention our way. "You little hussy! Tell me everything."

"Later," I promise, glancing at the clock. "We've got rounds in five minutes."

"I'm glad you're happy, Oak. Seriously," Harley says, squeezing my shoulder.

"I am happy," I admit.

"You and Thorn are meant for each other."

My smile widens. “He's so good with Morgan. And get this, he's talking about us finding a bigger place so the girls can have their own bedrooms.” I feel like I'm living in a dream, and I don't ever want to wake up.

“Just wait, you'll be married and knocked up before you know it.” That stops me in my tracks.

"Whoa. I don't know about all of that. More kids?" I bite my lip, considering it.

"Don't say I didn't warn you. That's been the trend every time one of the Saints settles down."

"You're not pregnant."

"Birth control." She taps the back of her arm. "I'm not ready for kids yet."

With that, we step into our first patients’ room and start our day.

“I’m gonna grab lunch while I can,”

“Take your time,” Harley offers.

As I’m making my way to the break room, the hair on the back of my neck stands on end, immediately followed by the feeling that someone is watching me.

I stop and glance over my shoulder and there stands Dr. Reynolds at the end of the hallway staring right at me.

I force a smile before continuing to turn back around.

Great.

Please, don’t follow me. Please don’t follow me.

"Oakland," he calls out. "A moment of your time, please."

Damnit to hell.

Blowing out a breath, I put on another fake smile and reluctantly turn around. “Yes, Dr. Reynolds?”

He closes the distance between us, standing much closer than is professionally acceptable. “You were gone for quite a while. I hope everything is alright?”

“Oh, yeah, everything's fine,” I answer, taking a small step back. “I just had some vacation time that I had to use up.” There’s no way in hell I’m telling him about my house.

His eyes narrow slightly. “I see. Well, I'm glad you're back. The floor isn't the same without you.” I can't tell if his comment is meant as a compliment or not considering the creepy-as-hell smile, he forces after the fact.

“Thank you, Dr. Reynolds. That’s very kind of you. If you'll excuse me, I need to grab lunch before my break is over.”

As I turn to leave, his hand shoots out, wrapping around my wrist. “Actually... I was wondering if you'd like to grab dinner sometime. To discuss your career trajectory.”

My eyes drop to his hand and as if just realizing he was touching me, he jerks it away. I put another step between us as I carefully decline, “I appreciate the offer, Dr. Reynolds, but I don't think that would be appropriate. If you have any concerns about my work, we can discuss them during my performance review.”

His face darkens but just as fast he schools his features, and the angry expression is gone. “Of course. Another time, perhaps.”

Not on your life, buddy.

Before he has a chance to say anything else, I spin around and practically run to the break room.

Once inside, I put my back to the wall and will my racing heart to slow.

"Oak?" Harley's concerned voice breaks through my panic. "Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

I shake my head and raise my hand as I attempt to brush it off. "It's nothing."

"This doesn't look like nothing, sweetie. What's going on?" I lift my head and can tell by the determined look on her face that she's not going to let this go.

Dropping my arm to my side, I let out the heavy breath I'm holding. "It's Dr. Reynolds."

Harley's face turns to stone. "What did that creep do now?"

"He asked me to dinner," I say, moving to sit down at the table beside her. "To discuss my 'career trajectory'," I say, using finger quotes.

“That's bullshit,” Harley spits out. “It was obvious the first day I started here that he had a thing for you. I'm telling you this as your friend, you need to report him to human resources.”

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “And say what? That he makes me uncomfortable? He hasn't exactly done anything against hospital policy that would get him reprimanded.”

“He keeps asking you out,” she reminds me.

I know that, but he's the kind of asshole who would deny it, then turn around and make me out to be the bad guy. “It would be my word against his. Who do you think they’re going to believe? A respected doctor or a nurse.”

“Don't let that asshole make you feel small, Oakland. Don’t do that.”

I smile weakly. “Thanks, Harley. I just don't want to rock the boat. I need this job.”

“I know,” she says softly. “But make me a promise- if he does anything else, you’ll report it to human resources.”

“I promise.”

Hours later as I’m walking to my car, I pull out my phone and dial Thorn's number.

“Hey, beautiful,” comes his deep voice through the speaker, and instantly my shoulders relax and much of the tension from the day falls away. “How was your first day back?”

I hesitate for a moment, not exactly sure how much I should tell him about my earlier interaction with Dr. Reynolds. If there’s one thing I’ve noticed over the last two weeks, it’s that Thorn doesn’t like it when I’m upset. “It was... okay.”

It’s not entirely a lie.

“Oakland,” he says, his tone now serious. The man doesn’t miss a thing. That’s another thing I’ve learned about my protective biker. “What's wrong?”

“It's nothing,” I try to deflect. “Just a long day and I missed you.”

“Missed you too baby, but we both know there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“Honey—” I start.

“Talk to me, baby. What happened?” The genuine concern in his voice is my undoing.

Pulling in a deep breath and trying to fight back the tears that are threatening to fall, I admit, “It's one of the doctors I work with.”

There’s a long pause before Thorn says tightly, “What about one of the doctors you work with?”

“He gives me the creeps and I know it’s probably me, making a mountain out of a molehill, but he asked me to dinner earlier and when I told him no, he had this look in his eyes that scared me.” I laugh humorlessly, swiping at the tears on my cheeks. “I’m probably just being oversensitive about it.”

“Bullshit. He did something to make you feel uncomfortable, baby.” He’s quiet again before he rumbles, “Did he touch you?”

My eyes drop to my wrist. “He grabbed my arm,” I say softly. “It's not a big deal, I just —”

“Don’t fucking do that, Oak. It is a big deal. First off, he's making you uncomfortable. Then he puts his hands on you. That’s a problem for two big fucking reasons, baby. Nobody touches you unless you want them to, and—” he stresses the word, “you’re mine and nobody touches what’s mine. You need to go back inside, baby, and report him.”

I lean against my car, suddenly feeling exhausted. “I can't, Thorn. It's my word against his. No one will believe me.”

“I believe you,” Thorn shoots out. “And I'll fucking gut him if he touches you again.”

“Please, just... can we not talk about this right now? I just want to come home and forget about it.”

There's another long pause before I hear Thorn sigh. “Alright, baby. But this isn't over. We’re going to talk about this more when you get here.”

“Okay,” I agree, relieved he’s at least letting it go for now. “I love you.” The words slip out of my mouth before I can stop them followed instantly by a rumble coming through the line.

“Fuck, baby. Need you to get your ass home now so I can show you how much that means to me.”

“I—”

“No fucking way I’m going to let you take it back. You said it—I heard it.”

“Okay,” I whisper, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip.

“I love you too, baby. Now, get your ass home.” With that, the line goes dead.

Heart beating a mile a minute, I tuck my phone into the pocket of my scrubs. “He loves me too,” I whisper to myself, feeling as though a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

I climb in my car and before I know it, I’m pulling into the driveway behind Thorn’s truck.

With a smile on my face, I climb out of my car and hurry inside. No sooner have I shut the door, do strong arms wrap around my waist and pull me close.

“Rough day?” Thorn murmurs into my hair.

I nod against his chest. “It’s better now.”

He pulls back slightly, cupping my face in his hands. “You want to talk about it?”

I shake my head. “Not really. Where are the girls?”

“With Kelly and Sara,” Thorn says. “They're having a sleepover.” I’m not surprised this has become a regular Friday event for the girls.

“So, we have the house to ourselves?” I ask, a small smile tugging at my lips.

Thorn's eyes darken. “We do.”

“I want you.” I lift up on my toes and press a kiss to his lips.

Thorn responds immediately, his arms tightening around me as he backs me up against the wall. “You love me, baby?” he growls against my lips.

“I do,” I breathe.

Thorn's eyes darken even more and with a groan he lifts me off my feet. My arms cling to his neck as my legs go around his waist. “Hold on tight, baby,” he growls, taking the stairs two at a time.

He doesn’t have to worry about that.

There’s no way I’m ever letting go.