The Boys Club (2 page)

“Damn!”

“Just hold still.” Doctor Allison Connors removed her hands
from Logan’s arm. Shifting her eyes to his face, she said, “You’ve done this
dozens of times in the past. Just a quick snap and it’s back in.”

Logan hated hearing about how quick of a procedure it was.
Allie said the same thing the past two times she had put his shoulder back in
place and every time it still hurt like hell. “You saying that doesn’t make it
hurt any less,
doctor
.”

She chuckled. “Then quit dislocating your shoulder and I
won’t have a reason to pop it back in the socket. From what I understand, you
were already a pro at this when I came to work here.”

Logan repositioned himself on the gurney. He gripped the
side of the padding with his right hand, ground his molars against each other,
and waited for the pain.

In his peripheral vision, Allie took her stance next to the
table. She laced her fingers around his wrist and extended his arm. Before he
could say anything else to stop her, she pulled on his arm, slow and steady to
put tension on the muscles.

Logan groaned at the familiar pop of his joint going back
into place. He blew out his breath and rotated his shoulder to make sure it
still worked. “That doesn’t get any easier. I swear you make it more painful
each time on purpose.”

She stood over him and glared. “You know what will make it
easier? Surgery. You won’t be down for very long and I can bring in a surgical
team to do it here.”

“Oh no,” he said. He eased up into a sitting position and
swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “I don’t want something to go wrong
and put me out of commission.”

“I know a great surgeon who can—”

“I’m sure he or she is a miracle worker like you, but I’m
not doing it.”

“Then I’ll see you back here the next time you decide to
dislocate it. Probably in another week at your pace.”

He grabbed her hands and pulled her body in between his
legs. When Allie started working at the Church three months earlier, Logan
first resisted the idea of getting involved with her, but his body wanted
something different than his heart and mind. He made it clear to her that there
would be no relationship and though she understood that, she fell in love with
him. She didn’t bother keeping it a secret, but he also didn’t keep it a secret
that he would never feel the same way. He cared about her as a friend and
colleague, nothing more.

Sliding his hands over her hips, he said, “Quit worrying
about me.”

She shook her head and brushed his ash brown hair off his
damp forehead. “Quit giving me reasons to worry.”

Logan smiled in response.

She took his hands off her body and backed away. “I need to
get you some ice for that shoulder and then we can work on the rest of your
wounds.”

Logan stared at the floor while she obtained supplies from
the adjacent room. He lifted his hand to his shoulder and rubbed at the
soreness. He knew he needed surgery, but he didn’t want to chance a
complication.

Yet it wasn’t his shoulder or surgery, or even the rest of
his minor wounds that weighed on his mind. While on the surface the job
appeared successful, so many things had gone wrong. The cocaine lab was empty
of personnel, just as they were told it would be, but how did the men find him
in the second barn and where did they come from? If they had been there the
entire time, why didn’t they just come after them when his team was destroying
the lab?

Their words about someone wanting him alive made Logan think
that they knew he would be there. That raised a whole other set of questions,
primarily, did they have a leak somewhere in The Boys Club?

As the first recruit into the program, Logan watched the
organization grow from the start. The Boys Club started the day Jim Schaffer
terminated his twenty-year career with the FBI. Schaffer had made a lot of
friends during his tenure with the government, people who wanted to see
injustices made right, but couldn’t always do it the legal way.

Before he recruited Logan, Schaffer purchased a rundown,
massive Catholic church and renovated it to suit the organization’s needs. One
of the earlier kids who came through the program coined the name “The Boys
Club.” Some of the boys left after a few years to pursue their own law-abiding
lives. Others, like Logan, were lifers, the ones that Schaffer intended to help
run the place when he no longer could.

Logan spent the last of his teenage years growing up with
some of the men who still worked for The Boys Club, most of which he considered
brothers rather than friends. The idea that one of the men could betray
Schaffer and their group was too much for Logan to consider.

Allie came back into the room, wheeling a stainless steel
tray filled with medical supplies. They went through the same routine every
time he returned from a job in less than pristine condition. Logan pressed a
cold pack to his shoulder while Allie gathered her long, golden blonde hair
into a ponytail. As she tended to various wounds on his face and torso, Logan
kept himself occupied thinking about the job and who could possibly want him
alive. Only one name came to mind, but with that name came a rush of bad
memories.

“Alright,” Allie said. “Take off those jeans and let’s have
a look at the rest of you.”

He slid off the gurney and to his feet. “I think you’re just
saying that to get me naked.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

He laughed and worked on getting his jeans off. Whenever his
hand touched his hip, he groaned with pain.

“What is it now?” Allie asked, as she put on a fresh pair of
latex gloves.

“My hip’s just a little sore,” he said, stepping out of his
jeans. “No big deal.”

“Whenever you have a physical reaction to pain, it is a big
deal. Which hip is it?”

“The left one, but like I said it’s… ouch!” He jumped back
when she tugged down the side of his boxers and touched his hip.

“That ‘no big deal’ needs stitches.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Hop back up on the table.”

“I’m never getting out of here tonight,” he said. He lay
down again, with his left side toward the outside of the table. “Next time I’m
not saying anything about any pain. I think you were just looking for a way to
operate on me. If you can’t get to my shoulder, you’ll settle for stitches.”

Allie rolled her eyes and moved her tray closer to his hip.
“Or maybe it’s your track record with stitches that made me grab the necessary
supplies just in case.” She laid two syringes down on the table next to him.

“Whoa, wait a minute. What are those for?”

“Antibiotics and lidocaine.”

“I just had a shot with antibiotics last month.”

“And yet here you are, getting cut up in a rusty old barn
again. Every time you do that, you get another good dose of antibiotics. You’re
just lucky you’re up-to-date on your tetanus booster or there would be three
syringes here.” She pouted at him. “Did you want me to hold your hand? I can
always give you a lollipop when we’re done.”

“Funny,” he said.

“Never did get that. Big, strong guy like you scared of a
little needle.”

“Just hurry it up.”

She wiped the skin on his upper arm with an alcohol swab and
took the cap off the first needle. It punctured his skin and he grimaced as the
medication burned through his arm. The next one didn’t hurt quite as bad, but
he groaned anyway to try and make her feel bad for sticking him.

She set the used syringes back on the tray and prepared a
third syringe.

“What’s that one for?” Logan asked. “And why did you put the
lidocaine in my arm when you’re stitching up my hip?”

“Oh, I was mistaken.” She held up the new syringe. “This one
is lidocaine. The other must have been morphine.” She shrugged with a playful
grin. “Sorry!”

“You’re the worst doctor ever. I told you no pain meds.”

She patted his arm. “You’ll thank me later.”

After she administered the lidocaine and started stitching
him up, the morphine kicked in and gave him a bit of reprieve from all his
aches and pains. He always gave Allie such a hard time as a patient, even
though she had his best intentions in mind.

Once she finished stitching, she covered up the wound with a
bandage. Taking off her gloves, she said, “All done. The bandage is waterproof.
I’ll want to see you back here tomorrow to check on the stitches and re-bandage
you.” She handed him a navy blue sling. “Put this on in the morning and wear it
until I tell you otherwise.”

“Yes, doctor,” he said, sliding off the gurney once more.
“Am I your last patient tonight?”

“You are. Are you staying here overnight?”

“Sure am.” Whenever any of the men returned from a job, they
stayed at least one night at the Church, mainly for debriefing and any medical
attention. After they were released, they went to their own homes until the
next job came in. Allie, however, always went home after her workday ended.

“I was hoping you could come over to my place tonight,” she
said.

He moved closer to her and slipped his hands around her
waist. “Why don’t you stay here with me instead?”

She laughed and shook her head. “Schaffer would never go for
that one.”

“He’d never find out.” Logan lowered her head and touched
his lips to hers. “He’s long gone and won’t be back until the morning. We’ll
sneak you out before then.”

She smiled and gave him another kiss.

As he gathered up his clothes and followed her down the hall
to his room for the night, the guilt over sleeping with Allie once again gnawed
at him. He knew it made him quite the jerk to take advantage of her feelings
for him, but she also knew what she was getting into from the start. One more
night together wouldn’t hurt anyone.

The numbers on the computer screen
blurred until they doubled and ran together in an indecipherable mess. Sara
Langston lowered her head into her hands and rubbed her temples. She had been
working on the account for hours and had found nothing to help solve her
ongoing mystery. At well past 3 a.m., answers were not coming anytime soon.

A noise from behind her snagged her attention and she
whirled around in her office chair. Stephen Mathers stumbled into the room,
yawning and wearing only black boxer shorts. “When are you coming to bed,
babe?”

“In just a few minutes.”

“That’s what you said two hours ago.” He wandered over to
her, leaned over, and gave her a quick kiss. “We have too much happening in the
next few days for you to keep late nights.”

Sara looked him over, but kept her thoughts about the big
events to herself. In less than two days, they would take their vows and
pronounce their love in front of almost 800 people, a love she had yet to
experience. She was still unsure if Stephen loved her. He acted like he did,
but she figured he could fake those emotions, the same as she.

Neither of them chose their relationship. Her father pushed
it on them so that one day they would marry and she would give birth to a boy
who would eventually take over his empire, after Stephen had his turn at the
reins. Stephen, as most men, would definitely marry someone he didn’t love for
that opportunity, but it didn’t stop him from pretending.

She rotated her chair to face the computer again. “I wanted
to finish up some work before we leave on our honeymoon, that’s all.”

His hands landed on her shoulders and kneaded her muscles
through her cotton top. “There’s nothing that can’t wait until we get back,” he
said. “Isn’t Mary picking you up in a few hours to finalize arrangements for
the wedding?”

Sara’s eyelids fell, part at his slow massage and part at
the anxiety growing in the pit of her stomach. “Mary will be here at ten.”

He leaned over her shoulder and stared at the computer
monitor. “What are you working on that can’t wait?”

“Just this mystery account. I can’t figure it out. There are
all of these crisscrosses of deposits and withdrawals between every account,
and yet they’re all tied to this account in some way or another. Then there are
the discrepancies I found between the statements and the books. I’ve asked Dad
for the information several times, but he always tells me to talk to Daryl, and
he sends me to someone else, and down the line. No one seems to know what I’m
talking about.” She turned back around to face Stephen. “How am I supposed to
do accounting for Dad’s company if I keep getting the runaround?”

Stephen knelt down in front of her. “I’m sure you’re not
getting the runaround. You’re only doing the books for one of his companies and
you know he moves things around from business to business all the time, even
though you tell him not to. It’s got to be a misunderstanding, that’s all.” He
tucked some stray curls behind her ear. “Why don’t you come to bed? It’s so
late that you’re not thinking clearly.”

“I would love to, but I feel like I’m on the verge of
figuring this out. If I can just work on it for another hour, I’m sure that—”

“You’re tired, Sara. Come to bed.”

She smiled, despite her desire to keep working on the
accounts. “You’re right,” she said. “I’m too tired to finish this tonight.”

He slid his hands up the outsides of her thighs, making his
way up to her hips. “If you want to stay up and work, I’m sure we can find
something much better for us to work on together.”

Though not in the mood for a late night encounter, she
wrapped her hands around his neck and leaned over for a kiss.

“That’s better,” he said, accepting her kiss.

She ran her hands through his disheveled, dark hair,
enjoying his kiss far more than she wanted. Though she hated the idea of
spending her life with someone just to appease her father, he could have picked
out someone worse for her than Stephen. She may not love him yet, but she was
learning.

He broke away from her and grinned. Taking her hand, he
pulled her out of the chair and led her out of her office, toward the stairs.
“Listen, Sara, I know it’s not the time to talk about it, but when we come back
from our honeymoon, I want you to reconsider teaching at West Hills Academy.
You have a job there whenever you want it and then you won’t have to pull late
nights or worry about your father’s accounts. I think it would be a much better
job for you, especially when we start a family.”

Sara’s mood soured again. Everyone seemed to know what was
best for her, and between her father and Stephen, her whole life was planned.
Even if she didn’t want to teach at the academy, she had a feeling that within
a few months of returning from their honeymoon, she would end up working there.
She wanted to tell Stephen the career change was out of the question, but
telling him that was the same thing as telling her father, who had also been on
her about taking the teaching position.

Stephen stopped walking at the bottom of the stairs and
turned to face her. “Besides, when your father retires, you don’t want to work
for me, do you? I wouldn’t want our marriage to fall victim to us working
together.” He fingered a chunk of hair in front of her ear. “You know you could
always stop working altogether. We don’t need the money and I’m sure you can
find lots of other things to keep you busy.”

The newest push, Sara thought. He had only brought up the
idea of her staying home once before and she had hoped he wouldn’t remember.
Now that he had said it again, she wondered if it his new goal was to have her
as a stay-at-home wife and mom where he could better keep her under his thumb.

Too tired to disagree at the moment, she gave him a strained
smile and nodded. “We’ll talk about it when we come back from the honeymoon.”

His palm cupped her cheek. “I’m so glad to hear that.” His
mouth claimed hers again.

Sara fell into his kiss and tried to ignore all the same old
concerns about marrying Stephen flooding her mind.