Resistance

by K E Osborn

  The last one makes me feel queasy. The thought of never seeing him again is doing my head in, but the thought of being a doctor and being okay with having a boyfriend who’s on the wrong side of the law doesn’t sit right with me either.

  Damned if you do, damned if you don’t scenario right there.

  Sinking into my loveseat, I let out a heavy sigh. Memories of sitting here with Torque flood back, and I wish I could get my damn head straight. All this overthinking is turning my stomach.

  Suddenly, my cell starts ringing, and I look at the coffee table to see Torque’s number flashing across my screen. My stomach flips and a slow smile spreads across my face. Reaching across to my cell I pick it up, and warmth encases my body.

  He said he’d give me time and let me contact him.

  Seems he couldn’t hold out.

  It actually makes me feel a little better as I swipe to answer the call.

  “Hey, couldn’t stay away, huh?” I ask as the general sound of people rushing about, and loud, frantic voices echo in the distance. Furrowing my brows, I sit up taller on the couch.

  “Heeley. I need you to listen very carefully…” He pauses, and the complete seriousness of his tone has my stomach back to twisting again. “There’s been an incident, and we need your help. Heeley… I need you.” The pure desperation in his voice has me instantly worried as the chaotic noise in the background continues.

  Nodding even though he can’t see me, I stand up and start to pace my living room. “Okay. What do you need?”

  A relieved sigh sounds down the line. “I need you and a first-aid kit. I need you to come to the clubhouse, now. Right now.”

  Opening my eyes wide, my palms begin to sweat, and I shake my head in a slight panic. “Torque, I’m not a practicing doctor. I haven’t done much practical work. I don’t know what I’m walking into, but I don’t think I will be much help. I’ve really only done theory-based work… I… I—”

  “Heeley… you can do this,” he interrupts my internal panic attack, and I take a deep breath and nod. “Please hurry, foxy. My men need you… I need you.”

  My eyes open wide and I gasp. “Are you hurt?”

  He exhales. “Just a little, I’ll be fine.”

  “Shit, okay. I’m coming now. I’ll be there as soon as I get my shit.”

  “Thank you… and Heeley?”

  “Yeah.”

  “This isn’t how I wanted you to see the clubhouse again. Please know that.”

  Nodding, I sigh and hang up the cell. Turning, I walk straight for my built-in closet to grab my first-aid kit. I have no idea what the hell I’m going to be walking into, but knowing Torque is hurt, well shit, I need to get there as soon as possible.

  Grabbing my kit, I head for my one-car garage attached to my apartment. I hardly use my car, always opting for my bike. But my first-aid kit is too bulky to ride with. So my graduation present from my parents will have to do for this trip.

  I jump in my 2011, lime green, Ford Fiesta hatchback. My parents bought her secondhand, and she’s a good little car, but I hardly use her now. She’s getting old, but she still runs like a dream. Placing my first-aid kit on the passenger side, I hit the button on my visor to open the roller door, and I reverse out of the garage.

  I head out onto the road and make my way to the clubhouse. The nerves running through me are at an all-time high, and I have no idea what I’m about to walk into. I had no idea what today would bring, but I never once dreamed I’d be going to Torque’s clubhouse, seeing brothers again, let alone seeing them under duress. I’m not sure this is the best environment for me to be in, but I’ll have to pull myself together because by the tone of his voice, he needs me right now. So I need to pull myself together and just be there for him.

  It’s not far to the clubhouse from my place, and I pull up to the giant mesh-covered gate, where a biker is standing. I wind down my window, and he looks in.

  I weakly smile at him. “Hi, I’m Heeley Fox. Torque asked me to come and help.”

  He nods, his face not giving anything away as he yanks on a big chain forcing the wrought iron fence covered in mesh to slide open. I swallow hard and drive inside.

  I have no idea where to park, but I see a line of bikes, a truck with a shitload of what looks like bullet holes in the side of it, and another couple of cars parked next to that. So I pull up next to the cars and jump out grabbing my kit.

  I hear a flurry of noise coming from inside. There are a few people outside, some women wearing barely anything, and a couple of bikers, smoking heavily as the women hang from them. They look at me raising their brows as I approach. I’m not sure what I should say or do.

  Whether I should just walk past them inside or what?

  “Hey, pretty lady, you here to give me a check-up?” one of the brothers I haven’t met asks.

  I raise my brow swallowing hard as I come to a stop, hoisting my kit over my shoulder a little more as I tense up. Noticing Ruby hanging from his shoulder, she rolls her eyes and tuts her tongue at him.

  “Shh… Renegade. This is Heeley,” she states, her tone warm and inviting unlike the clothes she’s wearing.

  I nod, my voice seeming to have left me.

  She smiles detaching from Renegade and steps forward. “Hey, hon. Torque’s waiting for you. They could really use your help in there.” She steps out placing her hand on my back and starts leading me through a door.

  Renegade grunts, “Sorry, Heeley. Didn’t know who you were.”

  I glance to Ruby who waggles her eyes at me as we step through the door. “Being Torque’s… whatever you are, makes them respect you. You have power here, Heeley. You should use it,” she suggests, but I can barely hear her over the noise pummeling my ears from inside.

  I turn to look, and it’s a sensory overload. I’m not sure what to take in first.

  The fact that Torque’s clubhouse looks nothing like I remember.

  The fact that it looks like complete chaos with people everywhere.

  What immediately grabs my attention, though, is Surge lying on a pool table with a woman standing over him, surgical tools in hand basically operating on him.

  Not only that, Chains and Lift are sitting on chairs by the pool table bleeding profusely. There’s pools of blood at their feet. Then there’s lines of bikers sitting around drinking, with blood stains on their shirts and pants, like they too have been hit, but aren’t as severely wounded but are just waiting their turn.

  What the fucking hell is going on?

  Why aren’t they going to a hospital?

  Why is this all being done here?

  My heart is racing so fast as the unmistakable metallic tang of blood fills the air, mixed with the bitter smell of beer, and the horrible scent of tobacco. Mix them all together, and it’s a foul combination. My nose turns up.

  Ruby looks to me and places her hand on my shoulder. “Hey, it’s a lot to take in for your first time. These are all good men. Sure, they might do questionable things, but their hearts are always in the right place, Heeley. Remember that,” Ruby pleads.

  “Heeley,” a female voice calls out, and I turn to the right to see Neala racing for me with her arms wide open. I finally bring myself to smile as I lean forward and hug her.

  “Oh my God, I’m so glad you’re okay,” I tell her, and she pulls back looking at me and grimaces.

  “Yeah, but my guys aren’t. Please… can you help them?”

  I tense up. “Honestly… I have no idea. I’ve never done anything like this before. I’ve really only done theory-based stuff and haven’t practiced on real people.”

  She shakes her head and looks over to the lady working on Surge on the pool table. “Bex can help you. C’mon. I’ll take you to her.” She grabs my elbow and starts to lead me away.

  I glance back to Ruby and nod. “Thanks, Ruby.”

  She waves to me, and I turn back walking briskly through the bloodied bodies of bikers, and I can’t help but notice them all watching me as I wa
lk with Neala toward the woman working frantically on Surge on the pool table. His blood staining the green felt. My chest tightens with concern for him.

  “Bex, I know you’re busy, but your intern just arrived,” Neala announces like that’s the most natural sentence to come out of her mouth.

  Bex nods, she’s pretty, actually strikingly gorgeous. Her blonde hair pulled back in a bun, a pair of forceps in her hands, a lighted magnifier over her head as she digs around in Surge’s shoulder. Luckily, he’s out cold because that would be hurting like a bitch if he was awake. I notice the other bullet hole in his side has already been stitched up, and the mass of gauze and surgical tools on a tray on the pool table like she’s nearly done with her surgery.

  “Well, I’m almost done with Surge. He was the worst of the lot. I managed to remove the bullet lodged in the muscle of his external oblique. His shoulder’s a little harder, but luckily the bullet stopped just before the rotator cuff. I have no idea how that happened. Surge is lucky as hell he didn’t have his shoulder blown to pieces, but I’m removing the bullet and trying to repair the muscle around the wound now. I would really love it if you could check on Chains please, Heeley.”

  Raising my brow, I jolt back slightly in shock.

  She knows my name.

  I stand back in a state of shock. These people here I have met except for this doctor, Bex, and they’re mostly all sitting around with blood on them somewhere. It’s a little daunting.

  “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.

  M
y 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!

  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 done, 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.