Fractured MC (The Nighthawks MC Book 9)

by Bella Knight

  Ronnie opened the road to traffic. "I'll drop off the evidence, write up the report, and go," he said. "You okay, you look a little... pinched. And red."

  "Need water. I'll drink some, have Bob meet me at the diner."

  "Good," said Ronnie, and drove off.

  Xenia rubbed her back, and walked slowly to her car. She hopped in, and made a note to herself to replace both medkits. She rolled down the highway at a moderate pace, jamming her lower back against the wooden beads on the seat. She pulled off the highway, took sips of water at the light, went over the bridge, and started driving back. She had a lot of paperwork to do.

  She went to Rosa's place first, a little out of town. It was a little, low house, with only a van in front, one that took a wheelchair and hand controls. There was a ramp to the front door at the end of a wide walkway. Xenia schooled her face and rang the door.

  Rosa Sanchez was in a wheelchair. She had no legs from the waist down. "Officer... no, Sheriff. What can I do for you?" She was a compact woman, with a round face, soft brown-doe eyes, and caramel skin. She wore silver jewelry all over her body, at her ears, nose, throat, and on each finger.

  "I am sorry to inform you that there was a terrible accident. Hymie is deceased, and Hector is gravely injured in the hospital."

  The doe eyes teared, then she suddenly wheeled over to a counter. She grabbed a pouch, attached it to her bike, and rolled forward. "Excuse me, I have a hospital to get to. If you could shut the door behind me?"

  Xenia stepped out of the way, afraid she would be run over. She dutifully shut the door behind the woman in the wheelchair. It closed with an audible click. She checked the lock. By the time she had walked down the ramp, the van elevator had lowered, and the woman wheeled herself into it.

  "Desert General?" she asked.

  "Yes," said Xenia.

  She walked to her SUV as the woman slid into the front seat and put on a full safety harness. She turned on the van, used the hand controls, and backed out with a loud beeping noise. Xenia rubbed her back, opened the door, then felt a rush of fluid. She looked down.

  "Damn," she said. She got towels out of the back, and laid one on the back seat.

  She circled to the trunk and got out her gym bag. She slid into the back, and celebrated having darkly tinted windows in back as she kicked off her boots and shimmied out of her work slacks. She changed underwear and slipped on yoga pants, socks, and trainers. She took off her uniform top and carefully hung it on the hanger in back, and unclipped the radio. She transferred the radio to her shorts and snaked it up to her shoulder, and transferred the body cam as well.

  She hopped out, slid in, and called Dispatch. "Dispatch, notification complete. I'm coming in."

  She drove down the street, turned right, and kept her speed down as she went to the office. The first wave hit her like a bomb. She pulled over, breathless. She waited it out, then called Robin on the phone.

  "Hey, honey," he said. "Heard you caught a bad one."

  "Honey, please go home and get the go-bag. I'm heading back into the office, and finishing some paperwork. You can pick me up there in about an hour."

  His voice came back thoughtful, gentle, but with a hidden rush of steel. "We'll have plenty of time, checking in and whatnot, to fill out that paperwork." He snorted. "Think I'll bring a pile with me, too."

  "And both computers," said Xenia. "You can drop mine off in a few hours." The police property one shouldn't be laying around in a hospital.

  "Okay," he said. "I'll bring the other one." The other one had so many books, movies, and music --that it must have been groaning with the electronic weight. She'd filled up on everything she hadn't had time to do. She smiled, then the next one hit her, and she gasped.

  She huffed and puffed, then got back on the line. "Maybe have someone pick up the vehicle, and you get me," she said. "Can't drive with the damn contractions."

  "I'll send Reece," he said. "Your people are gonna be a little shorthanded." Reece worked both as an EMT and one of Robin's deputies, both part-time. One job informed the other.

  Xenia gave him the name of the main street. She turned, and turned again. Got herself on the main street, then pulled into the hardware store, but didn't get out.

  Geoff came out. "You okay?" he asked.

  She gave him a credit card. "Guy named Hector died today. Want to give his brother Hymie decent tools. Theirs got strewn all over the highway."

  He wrote down the number, then gave the card back. She put it away. "I know them both. Real sad to hear it. I'll get them good stuff, don't you worry. I..." His voice cut off as her face turned bright red and she started huffing and puffing.

  He gently took the phone out of her hand, and dialed Robin. "Sheriff Bob, Geoff Rice at the hardware store. Your wife is having a baby in my parking lot, and I would prefer not to deliver one here."

  Reece pulled up in her own sheriff's vehicle, right in front of Xenia's truck. She hopped out and ran around, and opened the back door.

  "Let's get her in," she said. "Chop-chop."

  "Never mind," said Geoff. He handed the phone back to Xenia, and helped Reece get Xenia in the back. Xenia moaned, and slid in.

  "Baby," said Robin, his voice calm. "Buckle up. I didn't hear a buckle."

  Reece buckled her in. "Get ready, Daddy," said Reece, then slammed the door and ran around to the front. "Dispatch, this is D-43. We're coming in hot to Women's," she said.

  Robin talked over the siren. "Baby, put the phone to your ear." Xenia did. "I've got the computer and your go-bag. Sending someone else for the department truck and your county computer. Just relax. Breathe. Huff huff huff," he breathed into the phone. She followed his breathing, and the sound of his voice, into a tunnel.

  Rhonda was there at the hospital with a wheelchair. "Let's get her into this thing, slow and easy," said Rhonda. "There, Sheriff. Let's get you one of those funny plastic bracelets, shall we?"

  Reece hopped back in, to park the vehicle out of the way of emergency vehicles, in the far ambulance bay where they "rested" while prepping to go back out. That left two empty. She strode back in, and was happy to discover that Xenia had already done the pre-check-in paperwork and was ready to be shown her labor/delivery/recovery room. Reece hopped to, hoping her boss would come soon. Very soon.

  Robin's slow, steady voice belied his panic. Her contractions were extremely strong. His wife was a strong woman, and Valkyries were not easily distracted. He suspected his wife had been in labor most of the day, and just realized when the contractions got strong enough to distract her. He parked the truck, super-carefully, with the baby carrier and car seat all ready to go. He'd taken the course himself on how to install them safely. He walked with huge strides, and looked both ways before crossing --from the parking lot into the front door. It would not do for a sheriff and expectant father to be wiped out by an approaching ambulance. He walked in, badged his way through security, and took the elevator up to the floor with the labor rooms.

  "Boss," said Reece.

  "ETA?" He smiled. "Room number?" asked Robin, and smiled again, knowing it would offend Reece to answer a question with a question.

  "2o5." The elevator dinged, and he got in. "Good. Your wife is getting into a gown, and they have what they call a 'short window' to get the anesthesia. She's getting it," Xenia let out a terrific groan, "Right now."

  The elevator dinged as he exited, and he hurried to 205. The anesthesiologist was a man Reece's height, with a shock of black hair. His eyes were on his wife's back.

  "Hello, Daddy. Mommy here should feel no pain in 3, 2, 1..."

  Xenia let out a mighty sigh. "That's better, Doc. Thanks."

  "No problem," he said. "We'll monitor you closely. You're one of those that will push this one out in no time."

  Robin rushed forward to help the nurse swing Xenia's feet up on the bed. He slid the phone back into his pocket, and gently took the phone from her hand and laid it on the nightstand.

  "Dispatch, S-29 stepping d
own," he said. "Reece, go pick up Jenkins and get my wife's vehicle where it belongs, and the computer back here, so Xenia can type up a report or two before Little Squirt shows up."

  "On it," said Reece.

  "And thanks," said Robin.

  "Mmf," she said, and waved. She was gone in an eyeblink.

  "How does she do that?" asked Robin.

  "No idea," said Xenia. "Violeta, ice chips. Robin, drop that bag over there and hand out my other computer. And get out of your work clothes. You're off duty."

  Violeta and Robin both grinned and hopped to. Robin went back to the truck, locked up his gun, left his uniform shirt, camera, and radio in the vehicle, and slid a T-shirt out of his gym bag. He grabbed the bag with his paperwork. He called Reece to be sure she grabbed his wife's bag of paperwork. Heaven only knew if she would want to read law enforcement journals, but she might. He went back up the elevator, and his wife was typing furiously.

  "Don't tell anyone," she said. "I put the forms on this computer. Just have to move them, file them, and Reece can take it back to my station."

  "Good," said Robin. If she's determined to act as if she's not having a baby, so will I, he thought. "I'll finish off mine, and see if I can beat you."

  She snorted. "A lot happened today. You probably will." She snagged and crunched another ice chip.

  They finished off the paperwork before Reece showed up. Xenia opened her departmental computer, used a USB drive to switch the form from one computer to the other, filed the paperwork, took the USB back, closed the laptop, slid it in the bag, zipped it up, and handed it back.

  "Put it on my desk," she said. "Thanks, Reece."

  Reece nodded, then went back out on patrol. "Damn, that woman works like a dog," said Robin. "Neither one of us can get her to go on either job, full time. Says she likes both."

  Xenia nodded. "Hand me my bag. I think I've got a journal or two in me."

  She never made it to Journal #2. Violeta helped Washburn, the doctor, slip the baby out less than an hour later, and with only two big pushes. Robin held his wife's hand, but she didn't scream, only grunted loud enough to wake the dead.

  There was a cry. "Apgar 5, a girl" said the doctor, and put the baby on Xenia's stomach. "Afterbirth to follow. Great job, Mom."

  Robin looked down at the tiny face. "Diana Isis," said Xenia, laughing and crying at the same time.

  "Diana Isis," said Robin, grasping a tiny hand. She let out a plaintive cry.

  "Hungry," said Xenia, and slid her daughter up to the breast. "Welcome to the world, little one."

  "Welcome," said Robin, the tiny fingers still grasping his hand.

  They took her away to be weighed --eight pounds, four ounces --and for cleaning, a blood test, and inoculations. They sent out a group text.

  Reece came in when everyone had been cleaned up, and Robin went to the waiting room to do some calling and texting. "I win," she said. "The pool. Weight and date."

  "I knew you would," said Xenia. "Hold your charge."

  Reece's eyes narrowed. She took the baby. "Diana Isis, I swear to protect you with whatever weapons I possess, even my own body, until you can defend yourself with your own blade, hands, and heart. This I swear to my sister Xenia, to guard her as well, and as she recovers." She touched the tiny head, then kissed her. Diana cooed.

  "She likes her aunt," said Xenia.

  Reece sighed. "Go home soon. Hospital watches suck."

  "Two hours," said Xenia. "Robin's bringing back steak, potatoes, and baby carrots."

  "Nice," said Reece. "Tell him to pick up two."

  Changes

  Tito wasn't as put out as Henry thought he would be. "Just mirror the previous work. Already measured, planned, done. We can do the pour... today, I think. Already graded. And the Wolfpack has already helped build the other side, so this is just a rinse and repeat. I'll charge you a little less if we involve them more; they're cheaper. Not slave labor; apprentices. Some are ready to test out, so we'll have two of them do the work and have someone look over their shoulders. Be good training for them."

  "Sounds good," said Henry. "Send me a bill in parts."

  Tito laughed. "Not so many segments with this one, but okay."

  All four of Nantan and Chayton's boys --Little Nico, Tam, Josh, and Nick --had to get involved in the pour. They helped pound the stakes, put on gloves, and helped move the pour in, then helped to smoothed it out. They loved every minute, even the salsa music. They sang songs in Spanish. Tito failed to explain the lyrics of Luis Fonsi's Despacito to them. They waited impatiently for the concrete to set, so Tito had Raul and Ursula do the framing with the Wolfpack; the boys, too.

  They loved pounding nails and "checking twice, cutting once" on the circular saws, with work gloves and child-sized safety glasses --and their own smaller construction helmets with the wolf emblazoned on the side. They laid the frames on the back of the barn, ready to go the next day, along with the boxes of roofing tiles. Vi cooked up a mess of ribs and barbecued chicken, with corn, beans, mango salsa, tortillas, and apple pie, topped off with cinnamon ice cream for dessert. They ate like the wolves from which they took their name. They laughed, joked, played with the babies, and planned to be framing at an unlikely hour of the morning.

  The next day, they got the framing up lickety-split, after watching the sunrise together, coffee cups in hand. The boys got a fine mocha blend with lots of cream and sugar. After they got the frame up and nailed together, the electricians, pipefitters, and glass installers went to work, so they went into the house for breakfast egg and sausage burritos. They then relaxed into schoolwork until they got the okay to go out and work with the insulation, then drywall. They were allowed to go, one at a time, onto the roof and nail on the shingles with a real nail gun. They were so excited they were dancing with it, making everyone smile and crack jokes.

  They had pulled pork sandwiches, pickles, and chips for lunch, along with coffee, sodas, and flavored waters. The boys fit right in, and the workers were careful to say things in such a way a lot went over their heads. Then, the boys got to hang glass tiles, all wired together in sheets, in the bathroom, and on the backsplash behind the working sink. And well set into a wide counter for Alo, to make his preparations. They took turns helping with the bamboo flooring, switching off in pairs to put together the huge number of baskets on rollers Alo would need them, and the shelving as well.

  To give them something fun to do, Tito brought out a tarp and some leftover silver spray paint from another job. He had them spray all the baskets, shelves, and rolling baskets. It got them out of the way while they finished off the walls and floors, and installed can lights. They had the boys come in to help disassemble, carry over on a cart, and reassemble the pod that had been in the girls' room, and put it back together. They were let loose with Emilia Vargas, their painter, and he taught them taping, sectioning, cutting in, and how to roll on bottom and top coats. The outside was spray-painted, and the boys got to trade off running the sprayer. They polyurethaned the floors, and took dinner while waiting for that to dry. Dinner was meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, rolls, butter, and conversation. The laughter flowed freely. The boys helped pack everything up, and went to get a story from Vu. She was good with Coyote stories. Then, they hauled back to their own beds.

  Henry, David, Nantan, and Chayton sat cross-legged on floor pillows in the living room, playing cards. "Wish we could do projects like that, all the time," said Henry. "Those boys were delighted. Never seen them so happy."

  Nantan laughed, and played a card. "They'll sleep like rocks, too. And, they have many new skills, now. I will talk to Tito and see if he is willing to let them do small jobs."

  Chayton said, "With Dave doing so much work, Nantan has a lot more time, and I just finished a new book, so I'm taking a break, too. Having the boys off all day for two days was incredible. Nantan does love his horse." He played a card.

  Nantan's skin shaded a tad darker in the flickering candlelight. "Great horse," he said.<
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  "We went to see how David's proteges were doing. Everything was fantastic. Then, the tribal elders wanted to meet to discuss more businesses, and sharing the kiln for Suni," said Henry, and he drew a card.

  "No problem," said Chayton. "I can't imagine Suni making enough to keep it running all the time. Her work is really good, and sells well."

  "A little one goes for one hundred dollars, and ships UPS. I think we can build one, in the old way. Or, we can get several small ones, one for ceramics, and one to make glass beads. There are some that do both," said David. "Most of my beads are stone, bone or clay. I do think glass beads are beautiful, and we can sell them, or the jewelry we make." He drew a card.

  "I researched them as well," said Nantan. "I think we should have both types of kilns. That way, each group of artists can work. I also suggest buying larger ones, at least for the pottery. Be nice if we had a glassblower. That stuff is lovely."

  "And complicated," said David. "And would draw onlookers. I don't want strangers here. One on the res may work."

  "Then, that's for them," said Chayton. "I'll help fire the kiln. And find a way to get the boys interested."

  "Anything that gets them all out of the house," said Nantan. They all laughed. "Uno!" he said. Despite Chayton only just changing the color to yellow, he won.

  The kiln was delivered, and set up a week later. Suni was delighted, but confused. "Brother," she said to Robert, "I did not order these. This one is a good size, but what is this little shallow one?"

  Robert called Henry, got the data, and hung up. "The bigger one is for you, and the potters on the res will also fire their pots here. You will have a Google spreadsheet to pick the time."

  "Are the people on the res so stupid to open the door on another potter's work?" asked Suni.

  Robert laughed. "No, but it helps them to see that there is all this empty time." He waved his hand. "Time waiting to be filled with the skill of potters."

  Suni laughed. "And the little shallow one?"

  "That is for making glass beads."

  Suni stared at it, intrigued. "That would be a new skill to learn." She nodded once, then twice, to herself, then went into her shop. She came out with a little cart with various pots on them in white, black, red, and yellow. "Time to fire the glaze," she said.