by K E Osborn
“Woman, I’m fine. Heeley can check on Lift first,” a gruff voice calls out from the chair beside the pool table, and I look to see Chains, hunched over holding his hip, blood seeping through his fingers. I open my eyes wide at his lack of concern for himself.
“Chains, seriously, I’ve told you a hundred times, don’t call me woman. I mean more than a derogatory statement like that. I’m only trying to help you for crying out loud.”
I glance to Neala seeing the tension rippling between Bex and Chains—there’s definite history between them.
“Urgh… Bex, seriously. You’re trying my patience. Just let Heeley get on with it, will you?” Chains argues.
Bex shakes her head, her perfectly manicured brows scrunching, but continues her motions on Surge, and I wonder how she can concentrate on her surgery while arguing with her… whatever Chains is to her.
“Look, Bex, I’m only third-year pre-med. I haven’t even performed sutures properly yet. It’s all theory based until I get into med school.”
She finally looks up at me and exhales. “Shit… okay. I’ll walk you through everything. Just keep calm and focused. You can do this, Heeley. Okay?” she offers making me feel slightly calmer in this chaotic and ridiculous situation I’ve now found myself in. I nod as she pulls out the bullet from Surge and drops it into a metal container. The clink resounds through the air, and I take a deep breath as I step up to Chains and place my first-aid kit on the floor at his feet.
“I said…” he shows me his teeth in aggression, “… Do. Lift. First,” Chains argues staring at me sternly. I glance to Lift, and he smiles at me weakly and shakes his head holding onto his thigh.
“Heeley, don’t listen to the fucking pussy. I’ll be fine. Deal with him,” Lift instructs, and I nod.
Chains groans in frustration slumping into his chair as Neala taps me on the back. “I’m going to go find Torque. Maybe having a woman here that he cares about will calm him down. He hasn’t had a calming influence since Zoey. You’re good for him, Heeley.”
The mention of his name sends a shudder through me, but the mention of another woman sends uneasiness through my core. So I simply nod, not knowing what to say as she races off, and I turn back to my first-aid kit and grab the zipper opening it up. I’ve never really had to use it. I never imagined the first time I’d be bringing it into action would be for a biker shootout. I have no idea what the hell happened, all I know is it must have something to do with the Andrettis.
Taking a centering breath, I squeeze some antibacterial gel onto my hands then snap on some gloves. “Right, Chains, can you slowly remove your hands from the wound,” I ask.
I can feel Bex’s eyes on me as Chains pulls his hands from his hip, and blood oozes from the wound.
I let out a small huff. “Okay. So I’m going to need to cut away your jeans so I can see the entry point.”
Chains opens his eyes wide full of rage. “Like fuck you are.”
I swallow hard as Bex groans. “Chains, fuck! If you don’t let her see the wound, how can she treat you?”
“I’ll stand up and pull my jeans down. You don’t have to cut them.”
“No,” Bex and I both say in unison.
“Chains, if you move too much, the bullet might puncture your femoral artery if it’s in too deep, and then we’ll be in a world of hurt. Just fucking cooperate,” Bex calls out as she proceeds to stitch up Surge, who’s still passed out on the table.
He groans as I grab my scissors, and I move in slicing down the side of his jeans and briefs. He’s so tense, I think it’s from me being this close to him. He’s uncomfortable with me being in his space. I get it. So I make it quick as I cut down to the top of his thigh exposing his hip.
“If you wanted to get me out of my pants all you had to do was ask, you know.” He gives off a brief smile, and I raise my brow at him as I pull his jeans apart exposing his wound. I tug on his jeans with a little more force making him wince with the pain, and he chuckles at my heavy-handed response to his comment. “You’ll fit in perfectly here, Heeley.”
I smirk slightly and shake my head. The lighting is weak, and I see now why Bex has the magnifying light. I wish I had one, but I’ll make do. Taking a deep breath, I lean forward looking at the gaping bullet wound.
A sudden rush of adrenaline spikes through me. This is the first time I’m seeing a real-life casualty. The first time I’m fixing a patient. A small smile rises on my face as I study the entry point. It’s not like I’d imagined it would be. The fact that it doesn’t terrify me, but fascinates me, does terrify me. The fact that I want to sit here and study this all day is making me feel strange. I’ve never been afraid of blood. But the fact that I’m staring at a gaping wound is exciting me and sending my heart into a new type of rhythm.
“Everything okay over there?” Bex’s voice breaks through my euphoric state, and I shake my head coming back into the now as I look back to her and nod.
“Yes, sorry, was just getting used to the fact that I’m actually doing this.”
Bex chuckles. “Yeah, first time in the field can do one of two things… terrify you or give you that undeniable rush.”
I smile. “Rush, definitely a rush.”
“While this is nice and all, the rest of us have motherfucking bullets in us,” Chains grouches out.
I turn back nodding my head and look back down to his hip where the entry wound is small but doesn’t look too badly dispersed. I think seeing as his femoral is intact, this is a good sign.
“Okay, so Bex, the femoral is intact, I’m fairly certain. Should I just pull the bullet out?” I ask wanting confirmation of my thoughts.
She nods. “If you think there’s no chance of an arterial bleed and no damage to any bones, then do your best. Make it hurt, too. He deserves it.”
I raise my brows and look to Chains, who scoffs and rolls his eyes while wrapping his hand around a bottle of Jack which was sitting on the end of the pool table.
He takes a swig and nods. “Okay doc, do your worst.”
I wince. “Not a doctor, and this is going to hurt. Try not to squirm.”
I reach into my bag pulling out the liquid iodine and my forceps. I sterilize the forceps and then rub his hip with the iodine solution making his skin turn completely brown. Taking a few deep breaths as he steadies himself on the chair, I lean in with the forceps.
My hands shake slightly, but I know I can do this.
My heart’s racing a million miles an second.
I can do this.
My temple is beading in sweat as I bring the forceps to the open wound and take a deep breath and tell myself again—I can do this!
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
HEELEY
I force the forceps inside the wound, the tension of his muscles press back against me, and Chains jolts with the pain, but he doesn’t make a sound. Only his face contorts in the agony as his hands ball into fists. I try not to think about all the things that could go wrong at this moment.
The fact that if I push the bullet further in, and it hits the femoral, I could cause it to rupture and then he could bleed out in a matter of moments.
No, I don’t want to think of that right now.
Right now, all I want is to get this fucking bullet out.
As I dig in deeper, the rush of actually feeling my instrument inside human flesh is igniting a fire inside of me, and I concentrate even harder as I feel the tap I’ve been waiting for. I hesitate for a moment, but I think it’s what I’m looking for, so I move the forceps the right way to maneuver the bullet out of his body.
Chains is taking this like a fucking champ, and even though he’s starting to squirm a little now, I’m almost done as I slide the bullet out from his body. It leaves with a slight squelching sound as a small flow of blood pushes out with it, and I quickly place some gauze over the wound. Chains lets out a heavy sigh, and Lift bursts out into a round of applause making everyone close by turn around and look at me.
“Well do
ne, Heeley. You didn’t need me at all. I’m actually impressed,” Bex tells me, and I look up to her as I place the bullet into the same container as Surge’s, the ding resounding through the room as the bullet lands in the silver bowl.
Pride filters through me as my chest swells with excitement.
“I knew you could do it.” A deep voice makes my knees weak, sending a shudder right through me as I slowly turn around to see Torque standing back watching me. His eyes looking heavy with the burden of the world on his shoulders. “You did fuckin’ amazing.”
A slow smile creeps up on my face, but Chains lets out a small groan making me turn back to face him. “Fuck, that hurt,” he grunts out making Bex laugh.
“God, you’re such a wimp. Here, have some drugs, and I’ll make sure everything’s okay, and then I’ll stitch you right up.” Bex throws a bottle of pills at Chains, and he smiles at her with a nod.
“Thanks, Bex, give me all the drugs,” Chains says, and it’s the first nice thing he’s said to her.
“Don’t thank me, thank Heeley.”
He looks at me and nods. “Thanks, foxy,” he calls out.
I raise my brow that he’s calling me that too, and let out a chuckle.
Torque turns to me and smiles. “Some of my men have grazes that need sutures. Think you can handle that? If she’s not needed here anymore, of course, Bex?”
Bex nods and smiles. “Sure thing, Pres. I have to suture up Chains, then I can move onto Lift, and the main casualties are done. I think Heeley can manage some sutures. She knows the basics, all she has to do is follow what she’s learned, and if she needs help, she can ask me.”
“Thanks, Bex. I really appreciate it,” I state.
Torque grabs me and my kit then leads me off. I notice his bicep is bleeding, and it sends an ache into my chest as I look down to his arm.
He follows my line of sight and shakes his head. “I’m fine, just a scratch. You can look at me last. I have others that need your help. Okay?”
Nodding, I weakly smile and walk with him to the other side of the clubhouse where he leads me to Scratch. I guess he’s known by that name because of the scar that runs through his eyebrow. He’s sexy as hell, though, and he has a couple of blood patches on his legs and arms. I’m guessing they’re just grazes from the size of the blood patches.
I tend to him, only one of his wounds needed sutures, the others can heal with butterfly stitches. The bullets merely nicked his flesh. He’s lucky.
The next to be seen was Ace. He was much the same. Two wounds in his leg that needed butterfly stitches. He’s such a nice guy, and his man bun is still totally drool-worthy.
Trax was next and was his typical self. Having met him twice now, he knows how to keep me on my toes. But he had one bullet wound that was a little deeper and needed some irrigation, but the bullet wasn’t in his flesh. Which was good. It just nicked him too.
These boys are lucky.
Sensei was the weirdest one of them all. He had no injuries, but he watched me the entire time I tended to the other brothers. I didn’t feel like it was because he was watching to make sure I was doing things right, I felt like it was more because he was trying to make sure I was okay. I felt more of a protection vibe from him.
It was actually kind of nice. I really like him. Even though he looks strange and talks kind of odd.
I like his uniqueness.
After I had tended to everyone and Bex was finishing up with Lift, the last one to be looked at is Torque. He made sure I looked at all his injured brothers before I even thought about taking a look at his arm.
But now, everyone’s done, and Bex is cleaning up all the freaking blood everywhere as I sit down on a couch next to Torque quietly on our own, and I’m finally able to check out his arm.
I place my kit down and open it up pulling some new gloves on. I’m going to be out in a flash at this rate. I look back to Torque to see him pulling off his cut, and then his shirt, and I open my eyes wide as his stomach with those abs come into view. Then my stomach clenches as I see his arm, riddled with a line of blood which is still dripping from his bicep. He sits back down, and I shake my head while everyone goes about their business around us.
I take a deep breath as I look at the wound trying to ascertain whether there’s a bullet in there or not. It’s deep, but I think, by the position of the bullet graze, that maybe it skimmed his bicep and went straight past.
He lets out a small exhale, and I feel the silence between us growing into an awkward tension as I try to figure out how I want to play this.
Do I want to talk to him about what the hell happened?
If I do, does that mean I’m accepting to know everything about the club?
Does it mean I’m willing to be with him knowing that this is going to be something that happens?
He reaches out placing his hand on my knee, making me look up at him. “Talk to me, foxy.”
I slump into the seat and look up into his eyes, his are heavy with concern. “I… I don’t even know where to begin, Torque.”
He grimaces as I look at his wound and decide to keep busy getting the irrigation liquid and rinsing out the wound. He jolts with the pain of my movements, but I keep going.
“Look… we left things pretty much up in the air. And now this has happened… I just don’t know what or how to think.”
He winces again as I wipe away the residual blood to begin his sutures. He lets out a heavy sigh. “I know we were gonna let you have some time to think, and now you’ve been thrown into the deep end. You’ve seen the worst of the worst, Heeley. It’s not always like this. It’s just… at the moment, the situation with the Andrettis is volatile. I didn’t fuckin’ see this coming.”
I let out a scoff as I grab the thread and needle driver, then continue with suturing him up. He doesn’t flinch, even though I’m threading a needle into his skin without local anesthetic.
These bikers are bred tough.
“The thing is, though. Is this only the beginning with the Andrettis? What’s going to happen on your end now? Are you going to want payback when you’re all fighting fit again? Is this going to escalate? Are more people going to be put in danger?”
He lets out a small chuckle. “That’s a lot of questions.”
I glance at him with a frown. “And they’re all valid, Torque. This life, this war you have… if you keep going the way you are, it’s only going to end with all of you dead. I don’t know if I can be around for that. I don’t know if I want to be a part of that,” the last sentence comes out barely a whisper.
He slumps his body as I finish up the last suture, and he drops his arm turning to face me. I pull off my gloves throwing them to my first-aid kit, and he immediately takes my hands in his. “Heeley, I know this life is dangerous. I know what you’ve seen here today is a shock for you. I get that—”
“Speaking of shocks. Who’s Zoey?” I burst out not knowing what was going to come out of my mouth.
The fear in his eyes tells me she was, or is, someone huge in his life. He looks away from me, and a sinking feeling rolls through my stomach. His jaw wracks from side to side. “Who told you about her?”
As my muscles tense, my brows pull together. “Neala. She told me she used to calm you.”
He runs his hand through his hair and stands up grabbing my hand and pulls me with him. I open my eyes wide at him. “Torque… Torque… Rylan!” He stops, looks at me and I gulp. “Where are we going?”
He takes off again dragging me with him. “To my room. We need to talk in private, not in a room full of brothers.”
My feet can hardly keep up with his long-as-fuck strides as he pulls me through the clubroom, down a hall to his bedroom on the left. He pushes open the door, and it slams against the wall. He walks us in, then grabs the door and slams it behind me. He turns letting me go and begins to pace the floor as I take a look around the room as he continues on like he’s losing his shit. And I honestly don’t know why.
“Rylan, talk to me.” I step forward, he glances at me and stops his pacing, running his hand over the back of his neck. His neck muscles tense so much a vein sticks up on the side, and I wonder if he’s angry or upset.
I can’t tell anymore.
“Zoey’s my wife,” he spits out.
The air is knocked from my lungs as I stumble on the spot. I open my eyes wide at the harshness of the blow. My stomach turns on itself, and I slump over trying to gather my thoughts as he steps up to me grabbing my shoulders. But I shrug out of his grip and begin to pace.
“It’s not what you think, Heeley.”
Tears prick in my eyes, and I shake my head as bile rises in my throat. “You… you’re married?”
“Technically.”
I sink further into myself.
My body shaking at his deception.
“But, before you go off thinking what you’re thinking, I have to tell you everything.”
I scoff and turn away from him trying to hide my tears. “I’m not sure I want to know, Torque.”
He steps up to me, his hand gently grabbing my elbow, and I shudder at his touch. “Heeley… Zoey, she died… six years ago.”
My stomach catapults through the floor and straight into the bowels of hell as I spin around to face him. My eyes are so wide that the tears which were threatening to fall are now not able to be held back, and they cascade down my face. “Your w-wife d-died?” I murmur, and he nods, his eyes now glistening too.
I let out a half-moan half-sob as my hand rushes to my mouth to try and hold in my emotions. I’m feeling everything right now. Grief for him, sadness, but also undeniable anger and hurt that he didn’t think I would want to know this massive fact.
Why the fuck didn’t he tell me this before, and what else is he hiding?
“That’s not all,” he murmurs as if to read my mind.
My muscles tense, and I look into his eyes as his face contorts in obvious pain. “When she died...” his eyes glaze over, “… she was eight months pregnant with my son.”