Until July

Author: P Hana

Page 2


“This bitch is crazy.” I turn my head and come face-to-face with a guy who is at least a foot and a half taller than me. He’s slim, and kind of cute in that ‘I just got out of prison. Wanna take a walk on the wild side?’ kind of way.

I swing around in a circle, stating, “The next one of you assholes who calls me a bitch is going to get tasered.” I stop on skinny cute guy and hold the Taser out in his direction, causing him to suck in his already thin stomach.

“Watch it,” he complains, but I swear I see his lip twitch.

“Stop fucking around,” Hot Biker Dude says, grabbing the Taser from my hand.

“Hey,” I protest, and turn to face him, holding out my hand while putting my other hand on my hip. “Give it back.” I wiggle my fingers and he looks me over, making every inch of me tingle. “I’m not kidding; give it back. It was a gift from my dad.”

He looks me over again then looks over my head, and says, “Lets roll.”

“What?” I look at him then all the guys walking away and getting on their bikes. I don’t know why I’m not happier about them leaving, but I swear I want to run up to that guy, jump on his back, and wrap myself around him. I shake my head at my stupidity and yell, “Good riddance!”

That comment must have come too soon, ’cause Hot Biker Dude slips off his bike and comes back to me. I think he’s going to be a jerk, but instead, he hands me my Taser and mutters, “Be safe, babe.”

I watch him walk away; his ass in jeans is like nothing I have seen before. He lifts his leg and straddles his bike, and I stay in place, watching his arm muscles flex from behind. “Holy shit,” I whisper as they all pull off. I get on my bike quickly and head back towards the area I saw the bird. I finally find the poor guy off the side of the road near the edge of a field. Once I have him in my hand, I get back on my bike, and that’s when I hear the sound of pipes once again. A shiver slides down my spine, but I ignore it and focus on what I need to do.

I unzip my leather jacket and unfold the bird’s wing so that I can tuck it closer to his body. Once I have his wing adjusted, I place him near my belly with one hand.

“What are you doing?” a dark, rich voice asks, and I startle almost dropping the poor bird, so I lift my head and glare.

“He broke his wing.”

“It’s a bird,” Hot Biker Dude says, looking at the tiny animal in my hand.

“I know that.” I roll my eyes and zip up the lower part of my jacket so the little bird is secure against me, with his miniature head sticking out the top of the zipper.

“What are you doing with him?”

“Taking him to my office, where I can hopefully get him fixed up.”

“You a doctor?”

I lift my head and our gazes connect. This time, without the visor, I can see his eyes are green, a green so light that they remind me of mint chocolate chip ice cream.

“You gonna answer, or just stare at me?”

What the hell is wrong with me? “I’m a vet.” I feel my face pinking from being called out. “Sorry about earlier,” I murmur, picking up my helmet from behind me and slipping it on, feeling instant relief when he’s blocked out. I lean forward and start up my bike, being careful of the bird that is now sitting close to me. I look at Hot Biker Dude one more time and lift my chin. He smiles, crosses his arms over his chest, and leans back in his seat. I know right then that if I ever see him again, I’m screwed.

Chapter 1

“Hey, Dad.” I smile, walking into my parents’ house. My dad lifts his head from the papers in front of him on the island and smiles as I slide onto the seat next to him, leaning my head on his shoulder.

“Hey,” he says, tenderly pressing a kiss to the top of my head then wrapping his large arm around my shoulders. I set my bag down on the counter and lean forward, picking up the coffee cup in front of him and taking a sip. “What’s going on?”

I let out a shaky breath, set the cup down, and lean back so I can look at him.

“There was another dog left on the hospital’s doorstep this morning,” I tell him, and anger instantly fills his features. “I hate it, Dad,” I whisper. “I hate knowing someone is fighting dogs and getting away with it. I hate that when they get to me, they are so badly broken I don’t have any choice but to help them pass peacefully.” I feel tears sting my nose, but I fight them back. You can’t cry in front of my dad. He doesn’t deal well when his girls cry.

“What did Uncle Nico say?”

“He’s putting up cameras out front to see if he can catch anyone, but there isn’t much he can do right now,” I mutter, picking his cup of coffee back up and taking another sip.

“I’ll call your cousins and see if they can have some of their boys do a round in the area.”

“Dad, seriously, they’re busy.” I shake my head. I know my cousins would do rounds if I asked them to, but I hate the idea of them worrying about me. They may be my younger cousins, but you would never know it by how they treat any of us girls. They make my uncles and dad look tame.

“If things don’t pan out with the cameras, I’m asking them.”

I roll my eyes, knowing there is no point in arguing. There are times you may as well be talking to a brick wall when speaking to my father.

“Hey, honey.” My mom smiles, walking into the kitchen, wearing a robe that isn’t exactly appropriate, but still looks good on her. My mom is beautiful, and judging by the look on my dad’s face, he seems to think so too. Which is my cue to leave.

“Hey, Mom,” I mumble as her arms wrap around me and she kisses my cheek.

“I didn’t know you were coming by.” She looks at my dad over my head, but I still catch the look she gives him. Gross.

“I just wanted to come steal some food before I went home,” I tell her, and then want to take it back, ’cause I need to get out of here.

“Do you want me to make you something?” she offers, going to the fridge.

I shake my head. “No, I’ll stop at the store,” I assure her.

I swear my parents are complete freaks, and I do not want to witness anything that will have me bleaching out my eyeballs later. Been there, done that, never going back.

“Are you sure?” She frowns, looking me over.

“Babe, she’s leaving,” my dad growls at her, making me smile.

“Asher Mayson.” She puts her hands on her hips and I almost laugh.