What the hell is happening to me? Pressure starts to build in my chest, signaling a panic attack coming on. I rub it and take a couple of deep breaths, needing not to lose my shit right now. I have no time for that. Abigail is expecting us back, not to mention Brax and Roadkill are probably bored as hell standing watch outside her room.
Yesterday, we refused to leave Abigail’s room, staying inside and not leaving her alone. The thought of whoever shot her coming back to finish the job made me fucking sick. Fianna wasn't there, and a couple of nurses told Tank and me to leave. They said we weren’t allowed to be there after visiting hours. Fuck that shit, we weren’t leaving.
One of the nurses almost fucking drooled over Brax, so much so I was tempted to ask her if she needed a napkin to wipe off her chin. Instead, I signaled to Brax, and he eyed her, giving his boy next door smile. Fucking gets them every time. Within minutes of him talking softly to her, he had her doing whatever we asked.
She let us stay but only one of us were allowed in the room after hours. Any others had to stand on guard outside the room and not to cause any disturbances with the other patients. Piece of fucking cake. Fine by us. Brax took the opportunity to choose to take the first watch. Fucking bastard probably had the nurse for a quickie in one of the linen closets or some shit. Just like I did Fianna.
That bothers me. I took Fianna in a damn closet, just like I would any available bitch. But she wasn't that kind of woman. She should have better than that, better than me. And still, I mean to make her mine in every way possible.
Tank finally climbs in and slams his door, buckling up. "Why the fuck we taking the car?"
“Took you fucking long enough.” I can't help but grumble at Tank. I hate waiting. "I'm bringing Abigail some stuff, so we're taking the car."
"What the fuck, man, you bringing her a pony or some shit like that?" He turns to look in the back.
"Just some of her toys. If she's going to be in there a while longer, she needs shit to do." Why the fuck am I bothering to explain? I put the fucking car in reverse and back out of the space, then speed towards where Abigail waits for me. And maybe Fianna will be there, too.
I try to bring my thoughts together. “Call Roadkill, see what’s been happening?"
Right now, I'm kicking my own ass for allowing myself to be talked into the leaving the hospital. I hated it, but I also needed to get my shit together, I was no use to Abigail if I was in that dark place, trapped within an endless panic attack. I haven’t had a full-on setback in a while, but it’s going to happen soon, and when it does, Abigail won’t understand. I won’t be able to take care of her during that. Fuck, I barely will be able to take care of myself.
The realization of how much Abigail means to me hit during that ride to the hospital. God help me, but I adore that kid. Stupid, I know. But when I get past the dumbass part, I see I have to do the best I can by her. As much as I want to protect her from this life, I have to also prepare her to survive it, with or without me. She has to make connections with other people, and I have to allow it.
Tank slides his phone out from his pocket and presses Roadkill's number. “It’s Tank. Me and Chalk are on our way. Give me an update, and don’t leave anything out.” He spits out the order, no smalltalk. Roadkill being a prospect, he tends to get treated like shit by some of the members. It's usually that way. Until a prospect walks through fire, only the member that sponsored him will take a chance on him. Won’t be too much longer for Roadkill, though. And if he can prove himself with Abigail’s watch, then he’ll be pretty fucking solid in my book. He'll have my vote when the time comes.
Tank is quiet, and I take my eyes off the road to glance over at him. He looks tense and a frown is on his usual happy go lucky face. I can’t help but speed up, thinking the worst. Tank grabs onto the dashboard as the car lunges forward.
“What the fuck man? She ain’t going nowhere, now calm the fuck down or pull over," he barks at me.
Panic surges at the back of my throat, wanting to take over. “What the hell is he saying? I don’t like the way you’re looking like someone just killed your dog, or some shit.”
“I don’t have a fucking dog you lunatic, and you’ll find out when you get there.” He continues listening to Roadkill a few more minutes, then hangs up. “She’s okay, Chalk. You gotta’ keep your shit together man. I know this girl has done something to you. Fuck, she’s even gotten to me. What I got to say, man, this stays between us, got me?"
“I get you.”
Tank lights a cigarette, like nearly all of us do when things make us nervous. “Something is up with Vince. He isn’t keen on her, or the idea of her being here, even though it was his fucking idea. I’ll figure out what the fuck his problem is, but for now, I’d suggest you keep her clear of him, got it?” The seriousness of his tone makes the hairs on the back of my neck stick up.
What could he think Vince would do to a little girl? For that matter, what could Vince have against her? “Yeah, I got it. She’s not fond of him, either. She actually hasn’t liked him since she arrived. Think she senses something's up with him? You know how they say kids and dogs know shit like that.” There's nothing I can point to, but I've had the same feeling about Vince. The way he took this job for the club felt fishy to me from the start, and then the way he's treated Abigail since hasn't been anything to brag about, either.
He shakes his head and takes another drag off his smoke. “I don’t know, man, but I heard that before, too. You know ol' Cranky, old fucker that owns the Gravel Pit? He says they had a dog they kep' there for a long time. Bastard could smell a rat or cop a mile away. He'd get his lazy old ass up and go wag for them to pet him. Anybody else could die waiting for the damn dog to even look up at them."
I chuckle. "Yeah, I've heard Cranky talk about that dog. Never could decide if he was telling the truth or pulling my leg."
"I know, man." Tank flips ashes out the window. "Expect it's the truth, though. Like you said, kids and dogs know shit. Abigail is smart as fuck, Chalk. I’d trust her instincts on just about anything, but especially on people. Some of the shit she says, and doesn’t say, scares the piss out of me sometimes.” He looks thoughtful for a minute, and I wonder if she's made some wise pronouncement about life for him.
"Yeah, she does that to me, too." I laugh a little. "The night she got here, I took this chick back to my room to fuck. Abigail woke up and came and jumped on the fucking bed." I tell him how she acted jealous and said the bitch stunk. "The next day, she tells me she's glad that girl didn't stay. Said she smelled like too many men."
Tank laughs so hard he's holding his gut. “So speaking of bitches, what's that nurse's name you were with yesterday? Fianna? What’s up? She’s not your usual.”
When Tank and Roadkill spotted me in the hospital's coffee shop with Fianna, I immediately dreaded this conversation. How the fuck could I explain something I didn't understand myself? Tank knows me too well to settle for a bullshit answer, though. “I don’t know Tank, but I need to see her again."
"What happened to the no second nights rule? You ain't fucked her yet?"
I have to ignore the question about fucking Fianna. The idea of anyone, even my brother, thinking of her like that makes me see red. "She’s something special." I spread my hands over the steering wheel. "I know I’m a fucking no good bastard. She doesn’t need anything like me in her life. Look at the shit we do, and she's all about taking care of folks. But I can’t not see her again. Fuck, she’ll probably tell me to take a fucking hike.” I laugh, while an uneasy feeling sets in.
Something is wrong. I just know it. It’s not like Tank to not talk to me about what Roadkill said to him. Yeah, I’m the newest full member, but we go way back. It’s why I got an in with the club in the first place. We grew up together, though he was a little older. Not long after he patched in, I got out of the Army and started hanging around. Fucking Tank knows me better than anyone on this earth.
He tosses his cigarette out the window. "I d
on't know, man. All you can do is follow it a little while and see where it goes. She could be good for you."
I've hit the end of my chain. “Quit that shit, Tank, it’s fucking old.” Fucker's always trying to pull that shit, finding a way to change the subject and help settle my panic spells best way he can.
“I ain’t got a clue what you mean.” He smiles, knowing damn well we both know what he did.
I won’t admit it, but the panic has settled once again.
Finally, the hospital comes into sight, and I pull in to park. We both hop out, and I pause to grab the stuff I'm bringing for Abigail before we head inside.
Damn place is busy as fuck, but we're still wearing our cuts. A few people stare, but they back away and give us wide space to pass by and get to where ever the fuck we’re going. They ain’t wanting nothing to do with the likes of us. Fine by me. Anything that gets us to Abigail sooner works for me.
We step off the elevator, and I'm not waiting around. “Chalk, wait up.” I ignore Tank, not letting his slow ass stop me. I head straight towards Abigail’s room.
Just as I run up to the door, I hear my name called out in a soft yell. That voice causes me to freeze. Fianna. I slowly turn around.
“What?” I snap, fucking irritated. Why can’t I just go in already?
She flinches a little, but holds her composure well. “I need to discuss some things with you about Abigail before you go in, please.” She waits patiently at the nurses station.
I look towards Abigail lying in bed. Through the glass in her door, she looks like she’s asleep, so I guess a few more minutes won’t hurt.
Begrudgingly, I turn and head towards Fianna. “Follow me, we’ll talk in the family room.”
“Fine, but can we hurry up?” I say, popping the p.
Fianna offers me a soft smile. “It’ll only take a few minutes. She’ll be fine, Chalk.”
She gets to the room and opens the door, stepping aside, letting me go inside first. I take a look around. The lights are dimmed, and it’s full of more homey looking chairs, a couple of couches. A table off to the left holds a coffee maker full of coffee. Wonder how old that is? I could use a cup about now.
Fianna settles over on one of the couches. Fuck, this morning’s jack-off images come rushing back. My dick hardens, forcing me to try to adjust myself before turning back to sit down.
“What’s so important that couldn’t fucking wait?” My voice is harsher than I’d like, but I’m not going to hide who I really am. The little control I have is about to snap. If I go further with her, this is me. Take it or leave it.
She inhales sharply. I hear her sigh as she lets out a breath. “Chalk, she’s not going to be able to leave as soon as you’d hope. She lost too much blood and even with the transfusion she received, she’s too weak." She rushes on. "The doctor will talk to you later, but I didn't think it should come as a surprise. You don't strike me as the kind of guy who takes surprises well.”
I took a deep breath, inhaling carefully to keep from exploding. “What do you mean? She looked fucking fine to me.” I push up from my seat angrily.
Fianna places her hand on my arm to stop me. “Chalk, she’s getting worse. Yes, she’s in a sense fine. With her health issues, stress exacerbates things and causes more problems. That's where she is now. She’ll be okay, but things aren’t going to be as easy for a while. She needs to build her strength back up. Do you guys have someone that can look after her?”
“I fucking take care of her, no one else. Never again. I let those fuckers take her for cake, and she gets shot.” I crumble back on the couch. Everything is hitting me all at once. The room fucking goes blurry. Something happens in my chest, and tears start to fall. I haven't fucking cried since I was a little kid.
Everything comes pouring out. All the feelings for Abigail, and fear for her. The worry about Vince and what could be going on with my club. Regret for the kind of shit I've done in the past. Regret that I'm not good enough for Abigail, not good enough for Fianna, no matter how much I want to be.
I'm not sure how much time passes, but Fianna hugs me and rubs small circles on my back. Speaking in hush tones, she says it would all be okay, and to just let it out.
I hate the way I’m feeling, and fuck, I might go to hell for this, but I take the advantage of Fianna’s kindness to do something I’ve wanted to do since I first saw her. I pull her to me and absolutely own that sweet mouth as I lay her back on the couch. The quickie in the linen closet was good, but I need so much more of her.
For the first time in my life, I've found a woman I want more than once. Hell, I have a feeling a billion times with sweet Fianna won't be enough.
Chapter Eight
A few months later, Abigail is finally healed enough to be back to her old self, cheerful and full of sass, most of the time. Even though the bullet wound is only a scar now, the damage of that day still stays with her in a lot of little ways, and some big ones. She has nightmares now. Not every night, thank God. But enough that it won’t let her heal mentally and forget about that day.
Abigail is much clingier now, she refuses to go with anyone besides me or Tank. Fianna is ever-present in her life. I don’t know what I would have done if she hadn’t been here to help with Abigail. Little girls just need that woman’s presence, I figure.
Back when Vince said I had to be the stable figure in Abigail's new life, he neglected to mention she also needed a stable woman in her life. Maybe he didn't know, or didn't care. The way she blossomed under Fianna's attention made it clear, though. She had to have someone to show her how to grow up and be a good woman.
With the shooting, I was allowed to put several other jobs on the back burner, until we made sure Abigail was safe and sound. The other guys went on several long runs I should have gone on, but no one complained. They gave me the time and space to get Abigail okay. Now that she is, I’ll have to go handle some business, the same as everyone else.
When things settled after the shooting, we searched into what the hell went wrong with the drop off. Turns out, we were set up by someone wanting to take the drugs themselves. We take the same risk every time, but we're careful and smart. That greedy bunch of bastards were the first to get near hitting us. How had they known we were going to be there, though? Still unknown. Must have a mole, that’s all I can figure.
I've run over it in my head a billion times, taking everything Tank told me and trying to analyze it all. It just didn't make any fucking sense. The Mongol Horde was a bunch of cheap-ass knock-offs. No way they had the kind of operation to get real intel on us. That meant someone specifically brought them in.
Good thing no one either knew about Abigail, or just had no concerns about her, at the time. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Okay, well maybe hanging out with bikers in the first place doesn’t help a little girl to start being in the right place.
I head into the main room of the clubhouse. “Abigail! Where are you?”
“Over here Chalk. Susie's letting me fix her hair.” She’s sitting with one of the sweetcakes in the living room. Poor thing. Abigail has her hair looking like she’s been fucked real good. It'll probably take her forever to get all the knots out.
I’ve been more lenient with Abigail talking to the girls in the clubhouse. If they're going to be around, I can't keep her locked in her room, or make her be mean and not talk to them. We have discussions every few days to help her understand these girls aren’t going to be her friend, or stay here, forever. She has to get that sweetcakes come and go, and few stay around very long.
“Thanks Susie. Abigail, let Susie go do her things around the house, we need to talk. Just you and me, okay?” I nod towards Susie to leave the room. She’s one of the quiet ones. She’d make a great ol’ lady to one of the guys, maybe help them settle down.
None of the sweetcakes are forced to stay here. They come to us, or circumstances lead them here. They ask for help, and they all know what we do or offer here. They're all her
e for the brothers, and some give a few select clients what they want. We give them security and a safe place to live, plus, a cut of whatever any clients pay. For some of these chicks, it's something they never dreamed of being able to do. Living on the streets and not knowing if they’d be dead before the next meal was the only thing that crossed their minds before they came to us.
I’ve been watching Susie lately. Something seems off about her, like she closes herself off from others. I catch her talking softly a lot with Abigail, and they seem to have fun. Maybe it has something to do with an ex. Maybe Messer should look into it. We don’t need any more trouble than we already are dealing with, having Abigail here. A rogue ex coming out of nowhere could leave us in a world of hurt.
I sit down with Abigail, as she continues to brush a dolls hair. One of the girls got it for her at a thrift store, and she loves that damn thing. “Abigail. I need you to put the doll down and listen to me.”
“That’s Miss Doll to you, Chalk. And I don’t wanna. I’m having fun. Wish Susie could let me keep fixing her hair. I was almost done. She was going to be a princess.” She pouts and practically pulls out the doll's hair as she continues to brush it.
Ha, reminds me of me trying to do her hair. “I mean it, Abigail. Don’t make me take it from you, ‘cause I will.” I pretend to bend down to grab it. She hops up from the floor, runs off somewhere, and is back in less than thirty seconds without the doll.
“Can’t take it if you don’t know where it is Chalk. Now whatcha want? I’m busy here.” Oh, little thing is getting to be more of a smartass each day, I swear.
Shaking my head, I hide my smile. “That’s enough, come here.” I grab her, tickling her, and settling her in my lap.
“Stop it Chalk, that tickles. I’ll be a good girl.” She squirms in my lap, squealing until I stop.
I hug her a little. “That’s better. Abigail, I’m going to be leaving soon, and I’ll be gone for a few days. You’ll have to stay here.”
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