by Eliza Marsh
“911. Please state your emergency.”
“I need a fucking ambulance!”
38
“Well, hello there. Aren’t you a pretty little thing?”
“I’m your nurse, Mr. Navarro.” Jagger watched as the blonde opposite him narrowed her eyes.
Despite the situation he was in, the biker couldn’t help but grin at the strict, middle-aged woman. She had approached his bed moments before with a clipboard in hand and black-framed glasses perched on her nose. Her hair was in a tight bun, and she looked like this was the last place she wanted to be.
“Now, if you’d please lay back, I need to stitch some of your wounds.”
“Whatever you say, nurse.” He wiggled his eyebrows and then awkwardly maneuvered himself on the hospital bed. His arm was in a sling, and he was careful not to move it too much - the thing hurt like a bitch.
The nurse started tending to his wounds, and Jagger sighed. He’d been in the hospital for about half an hour. Jackie had been surrounded by a team of doctors and wheeled who knows where the moment she’d been taken out of the ambulance. He had pestered the hospital staff relentlessly, but he wasn’t getting any information about her or the baby.
Sticking his good hand in his pocket and taking out his cell phone, he dialed a familiar number.
“No cell phones allowed, Mr. Navarro.”
His eyes cut to the woman, and he took note of the disapproving look she was giving him. Hanging up the phone, he kept it gripped in his hand tightly. “Yeah, yeah.” He sat impatiently for a few minutes as the nurse worked, but as soon as she walked away for more supplies, he was redialing the number. There were a few moments of silence while he waited for the call to connect, but soon the voice of his charter president filled his ear.
“Yeah?”
“We’ve got a problem, Vic.” Jagger cut right to the chase, informing the man of the day’s events. “Fucking Saints. Tailed us all through downtown and started shooting when we hit the highway. We crashed and wrecked the car.”
“Shit!” A loud bang echoed on the other end of the line, a clear sign that Vic had hit something. “You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. A few scrapes and bruises, nothing major.” Pausing, the biker took a deep breath. “Jackie’s not though. She was unconscious last I saw her.”
“Damn it. She gonna be okay?”
“I have no idea. Stupid hospital staff won’t tell me anything.” He glared at the nurse as she approached him, his dark eyes chilling. Vic cursed again, barking orders at someone. “We’re at Mercy Hospital in Jacksonville.”
“We’ll be there as soon as we can, Jag.” The sound of muffled voices filtered through the phone as the guys immediately began preparing to leave the clubhouse.
“Yeah, okay.” Pressing the end call button, Jagger's fingers slid over the keyboard, typing another number, much to the annoyance of his nurse. His finger hovered over the send button, unsure. Calling without any concrete facts about Jackie would be worse than not calling at all. Locking the phone's screen, Jagger put the device back in his pocket. He’d wait just a little longer to call Macon.
“Hey, Nurse…” Trailing off, he looked at the name tag on her shirt. “Grayden. I bet you know what’s happening with my friend, don’t you?”
The woman looked at him over her spectacles. “Maybe.”
Snorting, Jagger shook his head. “Figures. Can you fill me in?”
“I can only disclose that information to family members, Mr. Navarro.”
“Oh, come on! That’s bullshit, and you know it.” The nurse didn’t appreciate him raising his voice, and she made sure he knew that, giving a good yank on one of his stitches. He winced, barely stopping himself from voicing his protest. “Just give me something. I’m worried about her.”
Sighing, the nurse put down the needle. “I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you anything. The doctors are still running tests. They'll take good care of her.”
“Yeah, thanks.” He watched as the woman gathered the things she’d used and made her way to another patient. He got his cell out again and quickly dialed a number.
It seemed like forever before someone on the other end picked up. Jagger was getting tired of waiting when a raspy voice answered him.
“What?” Jagger was in no way afraid of the man on the other side of the phone, but sometimes that voice gave him the chills. He could just picture the guy it belonged to, calm but dangerous beyond words.
Swallowing, Jagger opened his mouth. “Dean.”
“What’s up?”
“Me and your girl… we got into a car accident.”
“What?” The Macon biker no longer sounded calm. “What did you just say?”
“It was the Saints, man. Ran us off the road.”
“How exactly did they do that?” Dean was now growling, the anger barely contained in his voice.
“Shot at us on our way out of Jacksonville.” Pausing, he minded his next words. “Jackie was driving. They blew out the tires, we crashed. Ambulance brought us to a local hospital.”
Jagger heard swearing in the background, knowing his friend would be pacing as he tried to figure out the situation. “Is she okay?”
“Dunno, they’re still doing tests. Assholes won’t tell me anything.”
“I’m coming down. Be there in a few hours.”
The beep signaling the call had ended caused Jagger to grimace and curse. This had disaster written all over it.
A few hours north, Dean tore through the clubhouse and down the hall. Bursting into the back room he had been crashing in lately, he gave no mind to the door as it hit the wall with a bang. He got his worn duffel bag from underneath the bed, quickly stuffing some clothes into it. Placing multiple weapons and boxes of ammunition on top of the clothing, he zipped the bag shut before hoisting it over his shoulder and going back out the way he came.
Emerging on the lot, he noticed a few of the guys playing cards at the picnic table. Nash and Murphy had teamed up against TJ and the prospect, steadily taking their money and various valuable possessions. He made his way toward them, catching Nash’s eye.
“Going on a road trip, brother?”
Dean noticed a hint of satisfaction in the other man's voice and narrowed his eyes. “Jackie and Jagger were run off the road by the Saints. They're both in the hospital.”
No sooner had the words left his mouth, the playing cards were thrown on the table, and the patched members rose from their seats.
“Give us five minutes, man.” Murphy gestured towards the clubhouse, the other guys already on their way. “We need to get a few things.”
Dean nodded and looked at Taco, the only one still sitting at the table, cards in hand, and a dumbfounded expression on his face. “Prospect, why don’t you go and tell Luke what's going on.”
“Tell Luke what?” The voice of the president came from behind Dean as the man exited the garage. “You goin’ somewhere?”
“Lakeside.” Turning around, he observed the older man. “Jackie and Jagger were in a car crash.”
Luke sighed and nodded his head, knowing it was no use to argue with the man about leaving.
Watching as his brothers made their way out of the clubhouse, all armed to the teeth and carrying duffel bags, Dean turned around and joined them.
“Hey, Dean!” Glancing behind him, he looked at Luke. “Call me when you know how she’s doing.”
Getting on his bike, Dean raised his hand and waved in response. He put his helmet on and revved the bike, hearing his companions do the same. There was gonna be hell to pay when he got to Lakeside.
39
Jagger was getting restless. Pacing in the hallway, he threw a dirty look at the nurses’ station. Two hours. That’s how long it had been since they’d set foot inside the hospital. He still didn’t know what had happened to Jackie. Nobody was giving him any information. Pestering the hospital staff for news about her hadn't helped one bit.
He sighed, rubbing a hand ov
er his eyes. Dean was going to kill him when he got here.
Thankfully, the cavalry had arrived. The Red Kings and their queen stepped off of the elevator and made a beeline to him. Bianca looked around before focusing her gaze on Jagger. “What’s going on with Jackie? Anyone talking?”
“Nah. Nurses ain’t sayin' shit, and her doctor hasn’t showed up yet. Dean's on his way, though.”
“Well, let’s make sure the doc comes this way soon. I’m gonna go get the ball rolling on getting her transferred back to home ground in Lakeside.” Thumping Jagger on the shoulder lightly, Vic made his way to the nurses’ station. He didn’t want to stay in Jacksonville any longer than necessary.
Starting the process for a transfer didn’t take long, and Vic rejoined the small group just as a nurse came back with Jackie’s doctor. Bianca had the protective mama bear act down to a science, and she’d scared a poor young nurse into going to get someone who could give them some general information on her condition.
He was a middle-aged man with kind brown eyes and a smile. Stopping in front of them, he gave a chart in his hand to a passing nurse before addressing them.
“Hello, I’m Doctor Ashford. I understand you’re the family of Miss Jacqueline Reeves?”
“Yeah, I’m her brother.” Tyler anxiously stepped forward, quick with the little white lie, and drew the doctor’s attention to him. “Is she okay?”
“Miss Reeves is doing well. We ran some extra tests merely as a precaution because of the baby, but they are both fine. We gave her something to help her sleep, but she should be awake in a few hours.” He smiled at them all. “We want in a hospital overnight for observation to make sure both mother and child are okay before releasing her. Just to be on the safe side, nothing to worry about so far.”
Bianca sighed in relief and, ignoring the shocked looks the guys were sporting, smiled at Doctor Ashford. “Can we see her?”
“She can have visitors, but just immediate family at the moment. A nurse can give you her room number and escort you there if you'd like.” He looked at his watch, then excused himself.
“Thanks, doc,” Tyler shouted after him before looking at Bianca. “Baby? What baby?” Johnny, Benz, and Vic looked at her, too, equally curious.
“You’re gonna be an uncle, kid,” she said to the prospect. “Congratulations.”
“Since when is Jackie pregnant?”
Jagger answered Benz’s question, surprising Bianca with his knowledge. “Since about four months ago, apparently.”
“Shit, didn't see that one coming,” Johnny said with a shake of his head.
Vic looked at his wife, raising an eyebrow. “I guess she had some help keeping it secret, didn’t she?”
“What are you saying?” Bianca looked defiantly at him. “'Cause if you’re saying I helped her hide it from you guys, then you’re right.” She snorted, looking at them all. “Not that she needed me anyway. You’re all as blind as bats. Wouldn’t know a pregnant woman if she hit you in the face.”
Johnny shook his head, trying to put the pieces of the convoluted puzzle together. “So, it's Dean's baby, right? Then what the hell is she doing here?”
“Dean doesn’t know.” They all looked at Tyler, surprised by his grim expression and cold voice. “Bastard knocked her up, and she ran away, trying to save his skin.” He shook his head, snorting. “Typical Jackie.”
Jagger nodded before adding his two cents. “It's not quite that simple, but their reasons for avoiding each other are more complicated than I care to explain.”
“This shit storm is going to bite us in the ass. Someone has to tell him.” Vic winced when the words left his mouth, not anticipating the punch to the arm delivered by his wife. He was about to talk again when his phone rang, interrupting the would-be argument. He looked at the screen and then at the bikers around him. “Dean.”
“You won’t say anything if you know what’s good for you, Vic. You tell him she's fine, and he'll turn around and go right back to Macon,” Bianca warned him, watching as he answered the phone.
“Yeah?” he asked, glaring at his mischievous wife as he nodded reluctantly in response to her.
“Hey, Prez.” Dean’s voice was muffled by the passing cars, suggesting that they had made a quick stop somewhere along the interstate. “I’m on my way to Jacksonville, be there in a couple hours. How's Jack?”
“We don’t know anything yet.” Vic sighed and looked at Bianca, finding little comfort in her smile. “We’re getting both her and Jagger transferred to Lakeside, so meet us there.”
“Yeah, okay. We gotta sit down, talk about this Saints problem you got.” The Lakeside president could just picture Dean narrowing his eyes. “Shit got personal. I want in on the retaliation.”
“No problem, brother. Just get here, and we’ll talk it out.” Ending the call, Vic ran a hand through his hair. “Dean will be here soon, and he's not happy, to say the least.”
The rest of the guys nodded, and Bianca went to sit in one of the plastic chairs in the hallway. Tyler looked at them and shoved his hands in his pockets.
“I’m gonna go see Jack.” He turned and made his way to the nurses’ station, hoping this situation didn't go to hell in a handbasket.
40
Taking one last drag from his cigarette, Dean stomped it out in the dirt and hung up his phone. Walking towards his bike, he joined Murphy and Nash. They were waiting for TJ to pay for the gas so they could be on their way, trying to keep the stop as brief as possible.
“So?” Nash looked at him with a worried expression. “What’s up?”
“Vic’s getting them transferred to Lakeside. We’re meeting them there.”
“You ask how Jackie’s doing?” He was fishing for information, but he had to know how she was. “Is she okay?”
“Of course, I asked.” Dean’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “They haven't heard anything yet.” He knew that Nash and Jackie were close back in Macon, but right now, he was on edge. He was angry, and he needed to take it out on someone. That someone just happened to be an uncharacteristically troubled Nash. And as he took in the man's pale face and nervous energy, Dean couldn't help but feel that he was missing something. “You okay?”
Turning his back to him, Nash unzipped his duffel, pretending to look for something. “Fine, just worried about Jackie.”
“Yeah, that's my point. I haven't seen you this worried since Mack got shot awhile back.”
“It's the same thing. Someone I care about is lying in a hospital bed right now. Excuse me for being worried.” The older man's voice was gruff as he avoided making eye contact, which only fueled an already irrational Dean.
“You've known Mack a hell of a lot longer than you've known Jackie. Definitely not the same thing.” The biker grabbed Nash by the shoulder and turned him around, so they were standing face to face. “Why so defensive?” Silence reigned between the two as Murphy approached cautiously.
“C’mon, Dean.” Murphy could see that this was spiraling out of control very fast. “We’re all worried, man.”
“What aren't you telling me?” Dean's stare pinned the man in his spot as they both stood their ground.
“I care about her, and I'm worried,” Nash spoke slow and precise, hoping to make his point so Dean would drop the subject.
“Were you fucking her on the side? That why you’re so worried?” If he could think clearly, Dean would’ve seen the ridiculousness of his words. High on anger, adrenaline, and fear, though, that was the road his mind wanted to take. At the very least, he could take his frustration out on somebody nearby.
Nash was caught off guard by this line of questioning, needing a few seconds to string a coherent sentence together. “Are you even hearing yourself?”
“So, you guys were screwing around?” The angry biker stalked towards his friend and gave him a hard shove. “How long?” Dean shoved him again, making the man stumble backward.
“You're out of your damn mind.” Nash shoved him back. He di
dn’t care if Dean was acting like this because he was scared about Jackie's condition. He wasn’t about to let a hothead bully him. “She’s my friend. She's just a friend.”
“Friend, my ass.” Dean squared his shoulders, ready for a fight.
Nash rolled his eyes, growing tired of the situation and the accusations. “Yeah, right. I’ve been fucking her behind your back all this time,” he replied, throwing his hands in the air in annoyance. “You're such a moron.”
The sarcasm not registering, Dean took another step forward and shoved him again. Nash was about to retaliate but didn’t get the chance as Dean’s fist flew toward his face.
“Say that again, why don’t you?!”
Nash stumbled and shook his head, trying to recover. While Dean had landed a solid punch, the surprise had gotten to him more. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He put his hands up, blocking the continued assault. “If you’d treated her better, you’d know exactly why I’m worried, you asshole!”
Dean pushed at Murphy, who had entered the fray and was trying to restrain him. Successfully evading his captor, he ran at Nash and tackled him, causing them both to fall to the ground. “You're probably the reason she ran off!” Dean shouted furiously as they rolled around in the dirt of the parking lot, each one trying to get the upper hand. “This shit is your fault!”
“Trust me,” Murphy muttered as he received an elbow to the face. “That was all your doing, Dean.”
“You're the one that sent her packing! Don't blame this shit on me!” Nash grunted as he wrestled with the larger man.
Exiting the small convenience store with a cheerful whistle, TJ was stopped in his tracks by the parking lot brawl in front of him. “Shit, you guys can't play nice for three minutes? What the hell happened?” Murphy merely gave him a pleading look as TJ ran to help him separate the pair.
“For fuck's sake!” Having had enough of the tattooed biker, Nash retaliated with a punch square to the face. It was enough to stun his friend and allow the other two to haul him a small distance away. “She’s pregnant, you idiot! You knocked her up! That’s why I’m worried.”