LOST KING: THE KINGS OF RETRIBUTION MC

by Alvarez, Sandy

  Tipping his head, Jake motions for Quinten to follow him. Quinten turns to his wife and mutters something into her ear, before kissing her and following Jake back downstairs.

  A couple of hours later I still can't get the devastated look Quinten wore on his face when he came back from seeing his son. After nearly wearing a hole in the floor from pacing, I decide I've had enough of this waiting around bullshit. "Fuck it." Walking over to the door, I open it and peek out into the hall. Noticing our guard is no longer standing at his perch, I totter across the hallway to Vicky's door and give it a couple of taps. It only takes her a second to answer. When she does, I ask. "You coming?" Without a word Vicky, closes the door behind her and the two of us march downstairs. When we come upon the room we know Quinn is in Vicky is the first to burst through the door with me trailing behind her. We don't bother with knocking, and our sudden appearance has the guy known as Kiwi jumping to his feet. Both of us want to run to Quinn's side, but we stand firm and square off with the man standing between my man and us. Kiwi stands there stunned. He's looking at us as if he hasn't a clue how to handle the two very pissed off women standing in front of him.

  Placing her hands on her hips, Vicky says in her best mom voice. "Are we going to have a problem here, young man?"

  "Uh—no, ma'am. I'm not one to stand in the way of a mum and her boy," he says, and steps aside and strides out the door. "I give it two minutes before he snitches on us," Vicky huffs.

  A second later, we both turn, and I'm not at all prepared for what I see. Quinn is laying on a bed hooked up to an IV. His skin is pale, and his cheeks are flushed. He's unconscious, with visible jerking movements. Quinn's entire body is dripping in sweat, and he looks like he's lost a few pounds as well.

  The doctor in me is making a mental check-list of all the things that could be wrong with him and what course of action needs to be taken, while the girlfriend in me wants to climb into his bed and hold him. Knowing Quinn needs immediate help, the doctor in me overrules. Spotting Bennett's bag beside the bed, I grab it and begin rummaging through it until I find what I am looking for. Just then, the door opens and Jake along with Bennett enter the room.

  "Whatever you're about to say you can save it," I tell them while continuing the task at hand. Using an alcohol swab, I sterilize the inside of Quinn's arm. I don't miss the visible track marks either. My stomach clenches knowing what that means. I take a 21-gauge needle along with a blood specimen vile and collect a blood sample. "I need to find out if he has any drugs in his system." Without missing a beat, I place the vile in the front pocket of my shirt. I pull the blanket from his body. Quinn has been stripped down to his boxers, and it only takes me two seconds to find a bandage. Peeling it back, I see that he has an infected stab wound, and the area is extremely swollen and inflamed.

  "I was on my way to come get ya, Sweetheart," Jake confesses. "But when I got to your room, I saw that you had already given us the slip."

  Shocked, I turn to face Jake to see he has a slightly amused looked on his face. I was fully expecting him to be angry I disobeyed his order to stay upstairs and away from Quinn. Though, his amused expression quickly replaced with one of concern. "Doc, checked Quinn over and came to the same conclusion as I'm sure you have. We can confirm he has been injected with drugs repeatedly over the last seven days, though we don't know what kind. Doc cleaned and examined the wound to his thigh and concluded it is infected. We felt we needed to bring you in to help."

  "So that's what these marks on Quinn's arm are?" Vicky asks pointing to the apparent track marks on the inside of both arms.

  "Yes," I answer. "The withdraw from the drugs is most likely what's causing the involuntary twitching. The cold sweats are from both the withdrawals and infection." I turn towards Jake. "I need to get to the hospital. I'm going to have a toxicology test done, and I'll bring back the proper antibiotics as well. If we can't get a handle on his infection over the next twenty-four hours, he's going to need to be admitted to the hospital."

  "I agree with Emerson," Bennett adds.

  "Alright then," Jake pokes his head out the door and hollers for Kiwi. "Kiwi will take you to the hospital." Without wasting any more time, I lean over Quinn's bed, palm his cheek, and place a gentle kiss on his lips. The moment my mouth touches his, his twitching body relaxes, and his eyelids flutter open. "Sunshine?" he rasps.

  "Yeah, baby it's me," I choke out. "I want you to hold on for me, okay. I'm going to take care of you."

  "I didn't want you to see me like this."

  "Well, tough shit, because nothing and no one can keep me from you." I place my hand on Quinn's chest over his beating heart, "It beats for us right?" I whisper into his ear. "Now you be good and don't give your momma any trouble. I'll be back soon."

  Rolling his head to the right, Quinn regards his mom. "I know better than to sass my mom. She'll whoop my ass."

  I can't help but shake my head at his remark. Only Quinn would be laid up after going through hell, suffering from withdrawals and severe infection and still give us lip.

  On the ride to the hospital, I lean my head back on the headrest, close my eyes and let my mind wander. When I was looking over Quinn, I didn't miss the other numerous injuries to his body. Not only was he drugged repeatedly, and stabbed in the thigh, but I also saw a large burn mark to his neck. One that is too big to be a cigarette, so I'm going to guess it was a cigar. His nose was apparently broken but looked as though it had already been reset. His entire torso is covered in bruises as is his face. The tips of all ten of his fingers are swollen and bloody too.

  "You okay over there, doll?" Kiwi asks bringing me out of my thoughts.

  I'm just about to answer him when nausea hits and bile rises in my throat. "Stop the car!" I shout covering my mouth with my hand. Suddenly jerking the car to the side of the road, Kiwi barley comes to a full stop before I throw the passenger door open and I stumble out. With my palms braced over my knees, I vomit onto the grass on the side of the road.

  Kiwi comes up beside me and offers a bottle of water. "Here ya go, doll."

  After chugging half the contents, I wipe my mouth with the sleeve of my shirt. "Thanks." Tilting his chin, Kiwi leans against the side of the car and patiently waits as I compose myself. A couple of minutes later we're back on the road.

  "Quinn's a lucky man to have an old lady like you. I don't know ya, but I know enough, and I can see you're tough as hell. I admire the way you and his mum came into his room and decided nobody was going to keep ya from him. That's the makings of one hell of an old lady."

  "Thanks, Kiwi," I say giving him a weak smile. After his brief compliment, we ride the rest of the way to the hospital in silence.

  After we make it to the hospital, it only takes about forty-five minutes for a friend of mine that works in the lab to run the toxicology for me. I go about gathering a few supplies and some IV antibiotics and place them in my bag. On my way out, I pause when I hear someone calling my name. Turning, I see my boss and Attending Physician Dr. Brewer.

  "Dr. Evans, I have been trying to get in touch with you for a week. My phone calls and messages have gone unanswered."

  "Yeah, I'm sorry about that Dr. Brewer. I've been dealing with a family emergency."

  "I can understand that, Dr. Evans, but you have a responsibility to this hospital. The least you could do is notify me in such an event."

  Blowing out a breath, I try to compose myself before I go off on the woman in front of me. "I understand, Dr. Brewer, but work was the last thing on my mind this week. Sometimes there are more important things."

  "If that is the way you feel Dr. Evans than perhaps we need to rethink your position at this hospital."

  "You go on and do that," I say through gritted teeth. "I have someplace more important to be than standing here with you." Without a second thought, I turn and walk out of the hospital.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Quinn

  It's been a little over forty eight hours since my brothers fo
und my ass and brought me home. I'd like to say my recovery process has been easy for me but that would be a lie. The physical injuries I can handle. My fingertips hurt like hell. Each nail bed has formed a blood blister underneath them from the trauma caused by the needles. Thanks to Doc I can breathe out both sides of my nose again. My ribs feel a hell of a lot better with the compression wraps giving them much needed support. Taking a deep breath still hurts like hell, but it's much more manageable. My knees let's just say they have swollen to the size of a grapefruit with the amount of fluid build up in them.

  Currently, I'm sitting on the edge of the bed. Prez still has me in one of the rooms located downstairs. At least until I've improved a little more.

  With a shaky hand, I reach for the bottle of water sitting on the bedside table. This—the shaking and overall feeling like roadkill is the worst part of my recovery. My body continually shivers, accompanied by waves of nausea and lightheadedness. Both Emerson and Doc say they are a mild side effects from the drugs that were injected into me. Heroin to be exact. Emerson had a toxicology report done the same night the men rescued me. Let's just say by the high levels found in my system everyone was surprised I didn't suffer a fatal overdose.

  I fully believe it was my woman's voice that helped pull me through. Knowing my future was back home waiting for me gave me the extra strength I needed to hold on. Emerson and my unborn child were my guiding light when I felt like I couldn't possibly handle anymore.

  The Satans Reapers put my body through hell. They tried to break my spirit. They almost succeeded, but every time I closed my eyes there she was. Every time my heart kept beating it was for her and my child.

  Clenching my fists in frustration, I try to stop my muscles from twitching after spilling water on my lap. "Fuck. All I want is to have a drink without sloshing it all over myself."

  Emerson comes to sit beside me. "Your symptoms should subside in another twenty-four hours. You're already doing much better than you were twelve hours ago."

  "I'm sorry, Sunshine. I know I'm a massive pain in the ass right now. I'm not one to bitch as much as I have lately, but I'm not feeling like myself, and it's pissing me off." Placing my trembling palm against her cheek, I lean in and press my lips to her mouth, then rest my forehead against hers. "I love you so fuckin' much, Sunshine."

  Her hand threads through my messy hair. "I love you too." After we have our moment, she leans back. "Would you like to shower today?"

  I do smell. Doc and Logan cleaned me up a bit the other night, but a hot shower would be nice. "How about we play doctor and you give me a sponge bath?" I grin.

  Emerson smiles and laughs. It's good to see her face light up like that again. "Nice try," she says bursting my bubble. "Besides, Doc will be in here any moment to drain the fluid off your knees."

  Before I can protest or convince her otherwise, the door swings open. Doc strides in followed by my mom and dad.

  "Son, you're looking better this afternoon," my dad observes.

  "You're not lookin' too bad yourself, Dad."

  Pulling Mom into his side, he places a kiss on the top of her head. "Your mom has been taking real good care of me," his hand runs over her hip. The apples of my mom's cheeks begin to blush. Emerson takes notice of the body language the two share and casts her eyes down to her lap for a moment, hiding her amusement. I'm used to it. My parents have been affectionate with one another my whole life. They've never hidden the attraction they have for each other. I find it endearing. Why hide it.

  "Quinn, Kat wants to see you. Do you feel up to her coming down today?" my mom asks.

  Kat must be a mess. She's always had access to me when she's wanted to see me. "Let me grab a hot shower first, Mom. It's bad enough she has to see me all banged up like this. The least I can do is wash the stink off."

  Her head nods in understanding, and she walks towards me. Before she bends to hug me I stand. Every inch of my body aches with the movement. Emerson tucks her body carefully into my side offering the support I need to finish getting myself in an upright position.

  "Honey, you shouldn't be trying to get up—" my mom tries to softly scold me for my action. I shake my head and cut her off. "I'm going to give my parents a proper damn hug."

  My mother's eyes begin to water as she carefully embraces me. Dammit, the women in my life always find my soft spot. Doing my best, I choke back my emotions. Without hesitating my dad wraps his arms around me after mom steps aside and wipes a few fallen tears from her lovely face.

  "Your mom and I are damn proud of you, Quinn—Damn proud. It's so good to have you home," my dad's strong voice cracks with his confession.

  "Well, Dad and I will let Bennett and Emerson take care of you. It will put a smile on your sister's face when she learns she will get to see her brother today," my mom hugs herself and smiles.

  After my parents have left, Emerson slowly helps me to sit down on the edge of the bed. I watch Doc retrieve a syringe from his bag and remove it from the sterile packaging. "The last time I did this you didn't feel much because of the pain medicine you were on. Since you've asked us to dial back the dosage, you'll feel me drain your knees this time," he explains. I didn't like my senses dulled. I understand the medication helps but I prefer taking just enough to take the edge off. I'm okay with feeling some pain. It lets me know I'm here; I'm alive, and I have complete control of myself and what's going on around me.

  Emerson continues to sit at my side while Doc disinfects both knees. I would have thought my woman would want complete control of my recovery process, but she has stepped back and given most of the responsibilities—medically anyway to Doc. I love her so much more for doing so. She recognizes and respects the way the club and the brotherhood works. We all have a job to do. Doc's is taking care of us when needed. I've watched them both find the perfect balance as they take care of me.

  Rubbing my knees down with iodine, Doc turns to Emerson. "Will you get the lidocaine from my bag and numb him up for me?"

  "I can do that," she walks past him, digs in the bag and steps back. "This will be easier if you lie back. I'll place a pillow under your knees for a little support to make you more comfortable," she says, then helps me adjust myself. Once the area has dried a bit, Emerson uses a topical solution to numb the area Doc will be inserting the needle.

  Pulling a chair alongside the bed, Doc asks, "Are you ready? Not gonna lie, it will be uncomfortable, but afterward, the pressure you're feeling will start to lessen."

  I let out a heavy sigh, "go for it."

  Almost four syringes later, He has pulled most the fluid from both knees, and they do feel a little better. While Doc properly disposes of the needles used by placing them in a hazardous waste container, then putting the container into a thick red hazard bag, he turns towards Emerson as she cleans the iodine from my skin. "Sweetheart, can you wrap his ribs once he's taken a shower?" he directs his question at Emerson.

  "Sure," she responds.

  My face lights up. I may be busted up, but other parts of me aren't broken. Seeing the look on my face Emerson shakes her head and waits until Doc has left the room to say something. "Not happening."

  "Come on, Sunshine. Can't I at least feel your soft lips slide down my cock? Caress your tongue across the tip? Hell, I can't even give myself a handy right now, but you could," I plead with her.

  Leaning over, she hovers her lips over mine. I see it in her eyes. I know she wants me. Lifting my hand, I run the back of my knuckles along the side of her breast, then across her taut nipple. "See? Your mouth says one thing, but your body says another."

  "Quinn," she whispers. Her tone leads me to believe she's about to give in and help her man out. "Give me a minute. I'll be right back," she kisses me. Like a teenage schoolboy lost for words at the thought of filling her mouth full of my cock, all I can do is nod my head and watch her leave the room.

  The good thing is, there's a small bathroom in here. It's nothing fancy. Just a toilet, a small sink, and the smallest fuck
in' shower stall known to man. Hell, you can stretch your arms out wide and touch both walls on each side of you. This is the room our prospects usually occupy. I remember staying down here with Logan, Gabriel and Reid when we prospected together. It didn't matter that Logan and Reid grew up in the club, they were treated like any other prospect, and like me, all of us had to pay our dues to the club.

  Coming to my senses, I decided to slowly shuck off the only article of clothing I have on, which are a pair of gym shorts, rest myself against the wall behind my back, and wait for her to return. Hearing footsteps outside the door, I eagerly wait for the doorknob to turn and Emerson to walk back in.

  "Put that motherfucker away," Logan breaks out in laughter as he abruptly enters the room.

  I know he's referring to my dick, which is standing at full mass because he thought he was about to get a lip massage. "Don't be a cockblocker, brother. Whatever you need can wait." I notice Emerson behind him, but she lingers by the door as she tries to hide a smile by biting her bottom lip.

  Logan moves further into the room. "I'm here to help your skinny ass across the room so you can take a shower." Logan tries to look serious though he's finding it hard. It might have to do with the fact my woman over there called in reinforcements to avoid giving me what I want—what I need. I don't care that I'm in pain. My hard as fuck cock doesn't care either. Looking past Logan, I fix my eyes on Emerson. "Sneaky woman. You did me dirty, Sunshine," I tell her trying to hide a playful smile of my own. It's hard to be serious laying here stark naked, with a hard on, and in pain while she stands there smiling at me like she is.

  She giggles, "you shouldn't exert yourself, Quinn. I'm not giving you the chance to talk me into any sexy time. Logan agreed to stay in the room to make sure you make it in and out of the shower without falling." Blowing me a kiss, she steps out the door, closing it behind her.