"Sure, it's a group of crows, right?" I reply cautiously.

He nods. "Crow went down for a murder, so that became his name."

He said it simply, as though I didn't just meet a mister tall, dark and murderous in an alley and then ride his motorcycle to a weird location.

I blink. I'm the idiot who would die first in the horror movie. It had been something I always suspected, but now I had proof.

"Did he do it?" I ask with a frown.

Despite the darkness in Crow, something about the idea of him killing someone didn't sit right with me.

Doc smiles as though I had said exactly what he wanted me to. "No, he didn't."

"Then how-"

"Not my story." He gently reminded me.

"What is your story, then?" I ask after a moment.

"No story really, I was just an average kid. Joined the army and became a medic." He says it casually, but I can hear a tightness in his tone that tells me there's more to his story.

"How did that lead to you being here?" I probe.

I'm being nosey, I know I am, but I want to think about anything but the occasional glint of a needle I keep seeing in the corner of my eye as he stitches my face.

It doesn't hurt, which makes me wonder when he slipped me the painkillers.

"It's a local anaesthetic." He says.

"Can you read my mind?" I say, my tone accusing as I try to frown and realise I cannot feel my forehead to tell if I am or not.

He chuckles, "No, but it's written all over your partially numbed face love."

"I have no poker face." I shrug. "Never been good at hiding my feelings."

"Understatement of the century." He murmurs, leaning in close as he ties off the final stitch.

"So, how did you come to be here?" I refuse to drop my line of questioning as he helps me to sit up and begins rummaging through a drawer in the wheeled unit he pulls from under the desk.

He hesitates for half a second but doesn't look at me. "How about a trade for answers? I'll tell you that if you tell me where those scars in your hairline are from?"

This time I freeze, breath catching in my chest as the reminder of the existence of those marks briefly pulls me back to the moment they happened. I can still feel the jarring pain of my head slamming into the corner of the cabinet and my ears ring with his abuse.

I blink back unexpected tears as I pull myself out of it. "My ex," I snap, angry at the sting of shame I still feel at the memories, "Your turn."

"I'm sorry." He replies softly, turning back to me.

His warm eyes are full of sympathy, and I hate it.

"I don't need your pity. I got out, and it's in the past." My lips curve into a forced smile I don't quite feel.

"This isn't pity, it's understanding. You want to know my story?" He turns back to the cabinet and collects the bandages and tape he unearthed, "When I came back, I wasn't the same man as when I left and it took me a long time to adjust to what I had seen."

He pauses and for once I knew better than to push, "I didn't know what my sister had been through when I was away, I didn't notice until the night he nearly killed her and she asked this club for the help to get away through a domestic violence charity. They called me and the rest is history. I owe my brothers here for being there for Lottie when I wasn't."

I swallow hard, the memories of my own version of that night still vivid in my mind. "Is she OK now?" I whisper.

"Lottie? Oh yes, she works at a bakery in town now. She's doing really well." Despite the pain I still see, there's pride there too.

"I'm glad." And I am. I know firsthand what it's like to pull yourself out of that and get back into the world.

Doc drops into the chair beside me again. "We're all a bit broken here kid. If anyone is going to get what you've been through, it's us."

"My name's Gem, not kid."

"Nice to meet you Gem, I'm Doc. Now can you lift your top a little so I can strap you up?" He grins.

My lips curl into an answering smile and some of the heaviness in the room from our discussions lifts.

I wince as I raise it up. I can already see the bruises blooming across my skin. He works quickly, winding the wrap around me and fixing it firmly.

I breathe out as he steps back to admire his handiwork and am relieved to find the pain less sharp.

"You need to take it easy and rest for four to six weeks." He says firmly, removing his gloves and heading to the small sink in the corner.

I let my top drop down over the strapping and hop off the bed. My body protests at the movement. I'm no stranger to pain, but that doesn't mean I cope particularly well with it.

Doc crosses back to me and hands me a glass of water and two pills. "That should take the edge off the pain, but it's not a miracle worker. If you need something stronger, you're going to need to go to the hospital."

I smile tightly, "I'm good, no hospital needed."

He shrugs, "Suit yourself. Once you've taken them, we can head to the Prez's office."

"Prez?" I ask, popping the tablets in my mouth and gulping the water, tipping my head back to swallow them.

"President. Pops is the President of the Devils Dice Club."

"Why do motorcycle clubs have such intimidating names?"

"Well, no one would take us seriously if we called ourselves the hamster wheels club." Doc laughs, leading me back down the corridor and up some stairs.

"I would, hamster can be fucking vicious. My friend had one that bit through her finger, nail and all at once." I throw back.

Doc bursts out laughing as we come to a stop in front of a door covered by a large sign declaring 'Devil's Dice MC' with a skull and dice emblazoned across it.

The image matches the one on the back of their jackets. Biker club branding. Nice.

He knocks and someone inside calls out for us to come in.

We are both still laughing as we step inside.

Much like the rest of this place, it's not what I expect. The panelled lower half of the walls are painted a mustard yellow and dark wood furniture fills the room. Sat in two bottle green leather armchairs are Pops and Crow.

My heart does a funny little flip in my chest when Crow's eyes meet mine. His expression is mostly unreadable, but I think he's happy to see me.

"You good now, girl?" Pops asks.

"Oh, never better. Gem, by the way, nice to meet you." I stick out my hand for him to shake and see the amusement in his smile as he stands up and shakes it.

"Nice to meet you Gem. Are you happy with her, Doc?"

"I still think she should go to the hospital for proper checks, but from what I can tell, she's fine for now." Doc confirms.

"You think I'm fineeee?" I draw out the last word, "Oh stop flirting with me, Doc."

I hear a growl and whirl to face Crow again. "Did you just growl at me?"

Crow grunts and stands up. "If that's everything?" He says to Pops, totally ignoring me.

"Actually," Pops says, a calculating edge to his voice, "You brought her here so you can watch her until morning. Make sure her injuries don't get any worse. I'll open up a guest room for her."

Crow's jaw drops and he says, "Are you serious?" At the same time as I exclaim, "I don't need a babysitter."

"Not negotiable." Pops replies and despite the fact he's not my President and I don't really have to do anything he says, I find my mouth snapping shut.

"Well, I've got stuff to be doing, but if you need anything Gem, you know where I am." Doc says with an awkward smile, backing out of the room.

"Oh yes, totally remember the way through the maze of corridors." I throw back with an eye roll.

His laughter echoes slightly as he retreats and I turn to face Pops.

Before anyone can say anything else, my phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out and answer without thinking.

"Where the hell are you?" Tori's voice immediately screeches.