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prints, anyway.”
    “Feels like it,” I coughed.
    “How many stitches?” I asked as I raised my hand toward my cheek.
    Another slap of my hand and a sharp exhale reminded me of her obviously protective nature.
    “Thirteen on the big cut, and I think four on the small one,” she said as she leaned in front of me and inspected my wounds.
    “You look a lot better than you did,” she said.
    I shifted my eyes toward the floor. “I’ll pay for whatever it cost. You got friends in the medical field, huh?”
    “Nope. I did my best to drag you in here, and gave up half way. I made a quick Craigslist ad in the personals. Got a lot of responses, too. It was the only thing I could think of that wouldn’t get the cops over here,” she said.
    Still staring down at my bare toes, I nodded my head in shame. “Appreciate it.”
    “So, as I was saying. No phone, and riding alone as always, I was up at Central and Rock. At Walt’s . Place was packed. I pulled in from the east, and there was one stall left. Some truck was just sitting there, and I sat there on my bike and waited for this prick to park, and he just sat there. So I parked and hopped off the bike. As I’m walking toward the bar, the driver gets out and calls me motherfucker for taking his spot. Ended up beating the shit out of his cowboy ass, but his buddies got the best of me. I’d have never made it to the hospital, and someone had already called the cops and an ambulance, so I left in a little bit of a hurry. I’m sorry,” I said.
    “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “So, you’ve never said. Just what is it that you do? You know, for a living?”
    I stared down at the floor and thought of the best way to explain my situation. After a short pause, I glanced in her direction. My eyes were swollen, I had a throbbing headache, and I was still a little dazed from the beating, but it was pretty easy to see that she was an extremely beautiful woman.
    She looked different than she did when I met her. On that night, in her filthy sweats and half-drunk with her hair in a ponytail, there was no doubt she was an attractive woman. Tonight, however, she was even more so. With her hair down over her shoulders and her concerned brown eyes studying me, it was difficult not to stare at her. After a short time of enjoying her beauty, I once again shifted my eyes to the floor.  
    “Resolutions manager,” I said flatly.
    “That didn’t sound very sincere. And what does that mean anyway?” she asked.
    “I resolve things,” I said as I glanced toward her.
    “Be more specific,” she said.
    “Debt collector?” I said as I shrugged my shoulders. It came out with a hint of uncertainty, sounding more like a question than an answer.
    She chuckled and turned her head in my direction. “What, you’re not sure?”
    I glanced upward. “I’m sure. It’s just not something I have to describe very often.”
    “Look, I’ve read enough books that I know club business isn’t up for discussion, so don’t worry about explaining anything if you don’t want to,” she said.
    “What books?” I asked, almost bursting into laughter while I spoke.
    “Lots of books. MC Romance books,” she responded.
    I coughed a laugh and reached my aching ribs. “What the fuck is an MC Romance book?”
    “It’s a love story about a member or members of a motorcycle club. Most of them are a series of books, each one about a different member of the MC. You know, one will be the president, the next the sergeant-at-arms, maybe a prospect, or the enforcer, or whatever. It’s a subgenre of books. They’re pretty popular,” she said.
    “I’ll be fucking damned,” I said.
    “You hungry?” she asked.
    “Kind of,” I responded.
    In actuality, I was starving, but I didn’t want to impose any more than I already had.
    “Eggs, bacon and hash browns sound good?” she asked.
    I did my best to smile and nodded my head.
    “Be right back,” she said.
    She stood from the edge of the bed