"I thought you said no doctors?" she asked.

"I said no EMTs. They'd have to report it. But I know a doctor who'll treat me without reporting it. Do you have a car?"

Hannah silently thought out her answer before replying. This was a dangerous man who was running and hiding from even more dangerous men who were trying to kill him. He didn't want any police involvement even though he was obviously stabbed and beaten up without reason. The voice in the back of her head was shouting, Say NO! Say NO! But the words that came out of her mouth were, "Yes, it's parked in the lot around the corner."

Why did I say that? He's a biker! There's no reason to become involved, she thought.

She couldn't help but think that he was a very handsome biker and his face looked so innocent and boyish when he apologized for looking up her skirt. Hannah suddenly realized that she had unconsciously stepped even closer to him. His eyes were mostly meeting hers, but she could see the quiver which meant that he was also glancing up her legs and, from his angle, he could see all the way up. At least I have on a pair of new panties, she found herself thinking. Then, she blushed and moved quickly to the other end of the counter to run the final machine through its cleaning cycle.

At five after nine, everything was clean and the cash register was balanced for the night. She put the money in the holding bag and dropped it into the floor safe beneath the counter. The owner would retrieve it in the morning and deposit it in the bank. Then, she told the wounded biker, "Stay there on the floor until I bring the car around. I'll honk my horn twice rapidly. Can you get up and walk to the car by yourself?"

"Yes," he replied, "but you'll have to clean up the blood."

For the first time she noticed a small pool of blood on the floor alongside him. She quickly wiped it up with a clean towel, and then handed it to him to hold over his wound. She hoped the towel would keep it from getting on her car seats, too.

"What's your name?" she suddenly asked him.

"William," he replied. "William Grims. Just like the reaper, only two of them." He tried to laugh, but winced and coughed almost immediately. "What's your last name, Hannah?"

"Kent," she replied, "just like Superman's sister."

This time his laugh continued past the wince and cough.

All the way to her car, Hannah was telling herself that she shouldn't be doing this. As she pulled up in front of the shop the voice in the back of her head asked her, Are you crazy? But her hands still bounced on the horn b.u.t.ton twice and her feet scrambled to the door as soon as the beep, beep sounded.

William was even paler than before. He swayed slightly as he walked and Hannah had to help him to the car and hold him as he dropped into the seat. She stopped to make sure that the door to the coffee shop was securely locked and that there were no obvious blood drops on the floor. Then, she joined him in the car. He was slumped over with his eyes closed as she slid behind the wheel.

"If you pa.s.s out on me," she said sternly, "I'm taking you to the hospital." He suddenly straightened up and opened his eyes. "Where am I going?" she asked.

"Fourth Street, near Adams," he replied.

They rode in silence for several minutes, as Hannah wound her way through the downtown area. "Where now?" she asked, as she turned onto Fourth Street.

"Look for a sign that says emergency entrance," he replied. "There's a blue neon arrow."

Hannah strained to see what he described, and then suddenly saw it. A blue neon arrow pointed down an alleyway. The words Emergency Entrance were in red inside the arrow. Above it, also in red neon letters, were the words, Snyder Animal Hospital. A painted sign alongside the neon said, Snyder Small Animal Clinic and listed the hours the clinic was open.

"I called ahead," William said weakly. "Dr. Snyder'll meet us at the door."

"You're going to let a veterinarian treat you?" Hannah replied in surprise.

"Humans are just another animal," he grunted. "Besides, vets don't have to report an injured animal unless there are obvious signs of animal abuse."

Hannah looked at William's swollen face and blood-stained shirt and was about to say that all the signs of abuse were there, but he cut her off with, "Besides, Toni's my sister."

The car was suddenly bathed in light, as a door opened in the wall alongside them. A young woman in a white lab coat hurried to the side of the car, opened the door, and immediately asked, "What happened? How bad is it?" Then, she turned to Hannah and said, "Help me get him inside."

It took both of them to almost carry William into the clinic. "I need him up on my operating table," she said as they entered. She then directed Hannah to help her lay him on his back on a small, stainless steel table.

The table was too short and his legs hung down at the knees. Toni pulled a small cart over next to the table and lifted his legs onto it so that he was lying flat. She then cut off his T-shirt and poured something over the wound.

"Looks like he missed the intestine," she said brusquely.

"How do you know?" William asked weakly.

"You're not dead," she replied in a flat voice. "Let's see if we can keep it that way."

Dr. Toni Snyder then pulled on a pair of surgical gloves and a mask and began to more closely examine the wound. Hannah winced and her stomach turned slightly, as Toni stuck her finger inside William's abdomen.

She looked over at Hannah and said, "I don't feel any blood inside and I can't feel any cuts or tears on the intestine. Plus, the cut is with the muscle rather than across it." She then looked directly at her brother and said, "You lucked out this time, little brother."

"In more ways than one, big sister," he replied. He again tried to laugh, but instead grimaced as air bubbled out of the wound.

"I'll stop the bleeding, flush it, and put in a couple of staples," she told him. "If this were a human hospital, I would put in a drain and keep you overnight. But, everything looks pretty clean and we don't do drains for the larger mammals unless an infection shows up. You should be able to move around OK in a day or two, but you will have to find someone to stay with you until then."

"I can't go back to my apartment," he said in almost a whisper. "They'll be looking for me there...and probably at your place."

Toni looked up at Hannah and asked, "Can he stay with you?"

If the voice in her head could get hoa.r.s.e from yelling, Hannah's would barely be able to talk. It was now screaming, No. No! NO! You do not want to get involved in a biker war. You don't know him. This isn't your fight. Say goodbye and leave now!

She stammered out, "I can't..." but then she looked into his eyes.

William remained silent, but his eyes were pleading with her. She could see in his eyes that he wouldn't force her and would abide by her decision, but his life depended upon her answer. Then his sister spoke, "Please? He has nowhere else to go. Those who didn't change jackets are dead. And Bill would never give his allegiance to the Angels not after..."

Toni's words stopped in mid-sentence. Her eyes were fixed and staring past Hannah at the blank wall behind her. It was obvious that terrible memories were flooding through her.

"That's why I stayed," said William softly. "I wanted revenge for my sister and her dead husband. I thought that eventually the Wheels would recover and we could drive the Devil's Angels out of the neighborhood." He sighed deeply, then continued, "But sometimes the demons win."

"It's over, Bill," Toni said quietly. "There are less than a dozen Wheels left. With the truce over, the Angels will wipe the remaining few out, including you. I've already sold the building. I'm moving my practice out into the suburbs. They've won." She turned once again to Hannah, "Please let him stay with you for just a few days. His life is in your hands."

I don't want his life in my hands! Hannah's inner voice yelled. But, her outer voice took over and she said, "OK, but only for a couple of days until the staples come out."

That night William slept on Hannah's couch, while Hannah slept in her bedroom or at least attempted to sleep. The slightest noise awakened her. When she finally fell asleep, it became too silent and that also awakened her.

At first she thought it was her fear that the Devil's Angels had somehow found them and were creeping around in the darkness, like silent Ninjas ready to attack. But, as she lay there straining to hear movements in the darkness, she realized that her true fear was that she could no longer hear William breathing. She tried to go back to sleep, but could not. Finally, she got up and silently padded barefoot into the living room to check on him.

It never really gets dark in the city. The curtains were lightweight and the glow of the street lights and the flickering light from an electronic billboard on the building across the street gave the living room the appearance of being lit by candlelight.

She stood next to the sofa watching William breathe. His breathing was slow, regular, and quiet, as if he was in a deep sleep. She felt his forehead. It was hot and moist. He stirred slightly, as her hand moved downward to caress his handsome face. She bent forward slightly and kissed him lightly on the forehead. As she did so, his hand moved and brushed against her naked thigh.

She gasped, both because she realized that she had not put on her robe and because his touch had caused a wave of intense sensation to pa.s.s through her body. He moaned slightly and pulled his hand back onto his abdomen. He was not awake, so the touch was an involuntary movement. So, too, was Hannah's response to that touch.

She stood back looking at the sleeping figure on the couch, trying to make sense of what had just happened. She hadn't worn her robe because normally she didn't need a robe to come out into her own living room at night. But then again, normally, she wore long, loose-fitting pajamas when she went to bed.

Why did I put on my good, blue nightie with matching, close-fitting boy shorts tonight? Was I subconsciously dressing s.e.xy for him? Did I intentionally leave my robe in the bedroom so that he might see more of my body than he had at the shop? No! He's just a stranger in need of help. It means nothing. I was just checking that he was OK, she told herself. As she stepped back into her bedroom, she said quietly, yet aloud, "And he's much more than OK."

She slept after that. Her dreams were no longer filled with the faces of the men who pounded on the door to the coffee shop seeking out their escaped victim. Instead, she dreamed of William's face...and William's body... and William's hands softly stroking her.

She awoke suddenly to the realization that it was her own hand moving across her breast and between her legs.

Hannah jumped out of bed and raced into her bathroom. She stood in front of her mirror with her hands on her hips and spoke sternly to herself, "Pull yourself together, Hannah. Just because you are in a dead end job and your plans for your life are falling apart doesn't mean that you need to go falling in love with some handsome biker who just happened to collapse into your arms and is now sleeping in your living room."

When she finished speaking, she stood staring at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were wide. She realized that she had just spoken the truth out loud. Her life was going nowhere. Her plans for after college were in shambles. And William Grims, who had fallen into her life and was now sleeping in the other room, was a very, very handsome man.

"But he's just a biker," she told her image in the mirror.

Her image grinned back at her as she thought, But, he is different from any biker I have ever met.

With that, she turned and left the bathroom to check on William. This time, she remembered to put on her long, fluffy robe.

"Are you awake?" she asked as she came into the living room.

"Yes," William answered. He was still lying on his back on the couch. His muscular arms were on top of the covers with his bare shoulders and the top of his chest showing. He pulled back the covers and slowly sat up. Hannah could see the two medical staples just to the left of his naval. The stab wound looked small now that it had stopped bleeding. The pressure of the staples caused the skin to pucker, but it was apparent that the scar, if there was one, would be hard to see in the rippled muscles of his abs.

"If you're hungry, I'll fix you some breakfast," she added, as she pa.s.sed on through the living room and into the kitchen. She wanted to talk, but she wanted something to do with her hands while she talked. Frying up some eggs and bacon would give her that chance. It would also keep her from staring at his naked chest.

"Do you have some coffee?" he asked as he sat at the table. "I could make some for us if you tell me where it is."

She pointed to a small coffee machine that used the little plastic pre-measured cups. "Inserts are in the carousel under the brewer," she explained. "The choice is strong and stronger. No flavors. I serve the fancy stuff all day, but I just want good ol' black coffee for myself in the morning."

William laughed. "Thank you for taking me in for a day or two," he said. "You're truly a life saver."

"What happens next?" she asked. "Or for that matter, what happened last night?"

He laughed again, but this time there was bitterness in his voice. "Things change," he said. "Neighborhoods change. Cities change. Lives change."

He took a sip of his coffee. "My dad and some of his buddies started the Wheels when they came back from the war. It was their way of staying together, Brotherhood of the Open Road and all of that. They were a transportation unit, but they took high casualties. They painted Wheels from h.e.l.l on the sides of their trucks. That's where the name for the club came from."

He looked up at the ceiling as if he were sorting memories in his mind. "Like a lot of the men who came back," he continued, "they brought back a lot of problems with them. The club gave them a family that understood and it protected them, but it magnified those problems and they including my fatherdrifted into a lot of nasty stuff.

"They made a deal with the Devil literally. They formed an alliance with the Devil's Angels for some of the more lucrative and dangerous stuff. After some of the old timers died off or moved away, the Angels wanted to absorb the Wheels. Some of us said no, but the Devil's Angels don't take no for an answer from anybody.

"Toni's husband just wanted out. He had been too vocal and the Angels decided to make an example of him. They took turns raping her in front of him and then they killed him. They left her tied to a utility pole and him dead in the alley."

The anger and bitterness in his voice was almost overwhelming. "Police wouldn't do anything because they want to keep peace with the clubs. Their response was a gang intervention program. After that, we had a truce until Mickey O'Brien screwed that up."

William again sipped at his coffee. His voice became more sad than bitter, as he said, "He wasn't a good president, but there were so few of us left, it really didn't matter all that much. Regardless of what anyone did, sooner or later the Angels were going to get tired of waiting and wipe us out.

"They found out I was planning to go public with what was happening and decided they would make an example of me. I guess they figured if I was out of the way, the remaining Wheels would switch jackets. If you hadn't saved me, I would be dead in an alley somewhere."

Hannah set two plates of eggs on the table and sat down with William. As they continued to talk, she found herself telling him more and more about her shattered dreams of becoming an accountant or perhaps even a CPA someday. He spoke of what it was like growing up in a club like the Wheels. Suddenly, it was 12:30 and time for her to get to work.

The other baristas at Morning Star seemed especially tense when Hannah arrived. It was the tail end of the noon rush, so there wasn't time for conversation, but in a lull, she asked, "What's wrong?" and Mary nodded toward the far corner of the shop.

Seated at the corner table were two of the five Devil's Angels who had been pounding on the locked door of the shop the night before. They were sipping coffee and talking quietly like any of the shop's other customers, but one or the other of them seemed to be continually watching Hannah as she worked behind the counter.

Later that afternoon, one of the men left, but shortly thereafter another entered the shop. He ordered two large lattes, extra dark, and joined his fellow club member at the table. They remained in the corner until the evening news came on the TV. The lead story was that a body had been found stabbed to death in a downtown alley. It had been identified as Mickey O'Brien, President of the Wheels from h.e.l.l Motorcycle Club. The news announcer quoted the Chief of Police who expressed his hope that this did not mean renewed violence between the various clubs in the city.

After they left, Ramone, the only male barista at Morning Star, motioned for Hannah to join him at the end of the counter. "They were asking everybody about you," he said quietly. "They wanted to know where you live and things like that. We all said that you used to live over on Ninth Avenue, but moved a few months ago and we weren't sure where you lived now."

Actually, that was the truth. Hannah had moved because she couldn't make the rent in her previous apartment. She still was falling short in her new, cheaper place. Ramone continued, "Mr. Roberston said I should work close tonight and let you go home at seven while it is still light. You can slip out the back door and go through the alley to where you park your car."

He looked at her with concern and asked, "Something happened in here last night, didn't it? There was some smeared blood on the floor behind the bar when we opened this morning. Does it have something to do with this Mickey person who got killed?"

Hannah smiled, or at least tried to. "No," she replied. "It has nothing to do with Mickey O'Brien, at least not directly. I can't talk about it right now, but I will explain everything in a few days."

The rest of the day pa.s.sed without incident, but Hannah and the rest of the baristas nervously watched the front door whenever it opened fearing that the Devil's Angels would return. At seven, she slipped out the back door and walked rapidly down the alley to the lot where she parked her car.

During the short ride to her apartment, her phone chirped indicating that she had a text. It chirped again as she parked at her apartment building. She read both texts, as she walked to her apartment from the car. The first was two words, "They're baaack!" The second was a little longer and read, "They said they were sorry that they missed you, but would be here to see you in the morning."

As soon as she put her key in her door, William opened it from the inside. He looked quickly up and down the hallway and asked, "Are you sure you weren't followed? I thought you weren't off until nine?"

Hannah explained what had happened and showed him the texts. "They know," he said softly. "I'm sorry I got you into this. They probably think you're my girlfriend. That means they might hurt you to get to me. I'm so sorry.

"I wouldn't mind you being my girlfriend. That part I wouldn't be sorry about; but, I don't want you to get hurt," he said, as he grinned softly. He brushed her hair away from her forehead and said, "Star crossed-lovers from the very start, I guess." Then, he lowered his head to kiss her lightly on the forehead.

At least that was his intention, but Hannah turned her head upward toward him and sought out his lips with her own. The tingle that was there when his hand touched her flesh the night before was now a thousand times stronger. At first he tried to pull back from the kiss, but Hannah was insistent and he finally pulled her tightly into his arms and fully returned her kiss.

After what seemed like forever, they pulled apart and stood looking at each other breathlessly. "Come with me," she said, as she lightly grabbed his hands and pulled him toward her bedroom.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked.

"No," she replied. "I'm not sure, but we could both be dead by morning and I would rather go out thinking I shouldn't have than die wishing I had."

"It may be more like wishing that I could have," he answered. "I've got a hole in my gut held together with two staples, remember."

"There's more than one way to make love," she answered with a smile, as she pulled him through the door. "And the man doesn't always have to do all the work."

They stood alongside her bed. She moaned softly, as he slipped her blouse off her shoulders. When he pulled her close to him, she could feel small pieces of metal against her skin. The staples felt especially cold against her hot skin. "You lay down on your back," she said as she pushed him lightly toward the bed.

She pulled his jeans off his legs and he slipped his briefs down and off, while she removed the rest of her clothing. As she crawled onto the bed, she said in a voice that was somewhere between throaty and a giggle, "I've always fantasized about going full cowgirl with somebody. Guess I can check that off my bucket list after tonight."

She kissed his chest and then dragged her hair across his face. She gasped in pleasure, as he reached up and tweaked her nipple. In return she kissed his nipples and began to position herself over his waist. Despite his wounds, he had definitely risen to the occasion.

Hannah was surprised at how wet she was when she lowered herself onto his manhood. She knew she was turned on and expected to be ready, but she was more than ready. She was sloppy wet and her juices dribbled down his engorged c.o.c.k as he entered her. He attempted to thrust slightly upward into her, but gasped and winced and fell back.

"I said I'd do all the work," she said sternly. "You're the patient and I'm your naughty nurse."

He laughed and said, "That another one to check off your bucket list?"

She replied, "This may be our last night to work on that list, so I guess I'd better make the best of it."