With a squeal Debbie released my hand and sprinted to her old man, “Oh my god! What happened!?” she screeched, grabbing hold of his injured arm.
A man rushed past me in a blur, running into the clubhouse.
“He’ll be alright, just get him in the clubhouse. Tripper’s already inside callin’ for the doctor,” Daddy reassured her.
I stood frozen, switching my eyes between Big, who was now stumbling toward the clubhouse with his arm draped over Gunz’s shoulder for support, not putting any weight on his injured leg, then over to Dallas who was trying to calm a frantic Debbie down while he held onto his bicep.
“I’m good, babe. I’m good. Just calm the fuck down, will ya,” he kept repeating on their way into the clubhouse.
I snapped out of my shock and without thinking ran to Big’s other side. “Put your arm over me,” I grabbed Big’s arm and lifted it. He slung it over my shoulder. Pulling me close, he snuggled me to the side of his chest, and we stopped moving.
“Brother, we gotta get you—” Gunz protested, but Big growled over him, shutting him up.
“Hey, little babe, don’t you worry,” he soothed, holding me close. I didn’t even realize I was trembling as unshed tears welled in my eyes. “It’s just a stab wound, had plenty of em’ before.”
I didn’t like the sound of that, and I couldn’t control it when I wrapped my arms around his middle, hugging him. I had missed him so much, and he was injured.
With a curse through gritted teeth, he bent down and kissed the top of my head. “The Doc’ll be on his way. Do ya think you can be strong and help an old man inside?” he tried to sound witty, but it came out like he was holding back a whole lot of hurt.
I nodded and unwrapped my arms from his torso. Returning his arm over my shoulder, I grabbed his fingers that were touching on my collarbone and threaded my fingers through, holding his hand. He held mine back.
“We ready?” Gunz grumbled.
“You ready?” Big glanced at me, as pain induced sweat dripped from his forehead down his reddened cheeks.
I nodded, and we slowly waded our way through the clubhouse doors, across the common room, up the hall, and into the makeshift infirmary, where Gunz and I helped lay Big down on the sheet covered metal table, his bad hip turned up. Tripper was entering just as we finished getting Big situated.
I stood by the side of the metal table and held Big’s hand, as Gunz and Tripper proceeded to slowly remove Big’s clothes. Never one to show his agony, Big didn’t make a sound other than breathing heavily as he clinched his jaw, eyes furrowed and intense.
“Don’t look, little babe. Don’t look at my leg,” Big drew my attention and squeezed my hand, breathing labored. The urge to make his pain cease consumed me, and I reached out with my free hand to wipe his sweat soaked hair off his face and smooth my hand over his head. He closed his eyes at my touch and grumbled a sigh.
It physically hurt me to see him in so much pain.
“Bink, I gotta take off his boxers. You gotta go now, Baby Doll,” Gunz said sweetly.
I shook my head, holding onto Big’s hand for dear life, as my other hand kept smoothing over the top and side of his head. “I’m not leaving,” I firmly stood my ground.
Big pulled our joined hands to his mouth and gently kissed my fingers. My throat constricted. “It’s gonna be alright. Don’t you worry,” he grinned, and my belly went wonky at the sight.
I wasn’t sure I believed him, but that grin left me feeling warm and fuzzy.
“Okay,” I muttered, with my bottom lip pouty.
Gunz came up behind me and put both of his hands on my shoulders, massaging them for comfort. They were tense. “I’m gonna give him a shot of morphine, so he’s not even gonna be awake. And ya can’t be in here for all this. The doctor’ll be here any minute,” Gunz reasoned.
Dejectedly, I nodded my understanding, and Gunz released me, giving me a minute to say bye. I knelt next to the table and pressed a kiss between Big’s creased, agony stricken eyes. “I’ll be outside,” I whispered to his clammy forehead.
Big growled lowly in his naked chest, “I’ll be here.”
Reluctantly, I released Big’s hand and spared him one last glance on my way out. They were removing his boxers just as I stepped over the threshold. The rest of his body had already been stripped bare. Tripper shut the door in my wake.
Not knowing what to do with myself, I paced the hall in front of the infirmary’s door. My heart pounded frantically with each step as my palms grew clammy and my concern tripled tenfold. He couldn’t die. He had to be alright. The doctor had to fix him and make Big whole again.
Minutes later, which felt like hours, the doctor and my daddy came to Big’s aid. They went inside, leaving me to my own thoughts pacing the hall. My mind wandered wondering what had happened to him? How much damaged had been inflicted? Why did it happen?
Sometime later, after my legs began feeling like noodles, and my mind was fuzzy from exhaustion, the doors opened and my daddy and Tripper stepped out, faces grim.
Daddy came to me, pulling me into a hug. “He’s fine,” Daddy reassured.
Tilting my head up, chin on his chest, I peered into my daddy’s eyes. “Can I see him?”
Releasing me, he nodded with a gloomy smile and swept his hand toward the closed door. I followed him inside. Big was still out cold, resting on his side as a white sheet laid over his naked form, leaving only his thick muscled torso and chest exposed. He looked comfortable like he was in a deep peaceful sleep.
Daddy left me to go speak to the doc who was using the sink and throwing away bloody rags in the wastebasket. I paid them no mind when I strode to the corner of the room and drug a dilapidated wooden chair next to Big’s makeshift bed. Sitting down, I sighed and melted into the chair feeling the instant relief in my noodle legs. It felt dang good to take a load off.
My daddy saw the doctor out, talking payment, and left me with Big. I took the time to study his serene face. It looked rugged with more than a day’s growth, but his face was relaxed and soft. His lips full and supple. He looked magnificent. I don’t know how or when but as I watched him breathe in and out while the IV made noise pushing fluids into his arm, I fell asleep in the chair. When my heavy lids fluttered awake, the first sight I saw was Big smirking at me.
“Mornin’ sunshine, ya sleep good?” he teased.
I rubbed my eyes and stretched my arms above my head with a groan. “Yeah,” my voice was groggy. “How ya feelin?”
“Like I was just stabbed in the side,” he quipped, grinning.
“Ha-ha-ha,” I rolled my eyes. “Do ya want me to get ya anything?”
He tapped his cheek with a finger. “A big ol’ get well smackeroo.”
I complied and planted a sloppy wet kiss on his cheek to make his boo-boo’s all better. We laughed about it, lightening the mood.
I stayed with him the rest of the day watching him like a hawk, even after three of the brothers had helped transfer him to his clubhouse bedroom. I slept the entire week on Big’s bedroom floor, although he had insisted it wasn’t necessary. I still made it my top priority to make all of his favorite foods, help him to the bathroom, and retrieve his clothes. You know, basically all the things that you do for someone you care for when they’re sick or injured. That’s what I did for him.
“Hey, Bink,” Debbie calls from the door, tearing me from my thoughts. I turn my head to look at her, “White Boy is openin’ the gate. They’re getting close.”
“Kay.” I muster a halfhearted grin.
It’s show time.
Using the arm of the chair as leverage, I push off the couch and waddle toward the door, hands supporting my lower back. After yesterday’s bumpy van ride, my ankles have turned into balloons, and my back hurts something fierce. It even hurts to walk. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I slept on a bed of jagged rocks for a week, based on how shitty I feel.
Approaching the doors, where my excited sisters stand, the sounds
of motorcycles grow so close I can feel the vibrations. They’ve gotta be right outside.
“They’re here,” Dixie singsongs.
See, I was right.
I stop behind the horde of excited sisters, but they don’t waste another second to shove open the clubhouse doors and dart outside to their old men. I take my time and follow slowly behind, grunting under my breath with each step. My stubborn ass probably should have taken a Tylenol.
Bike after bike files in taking up the parking spots outside of the clubhouse, next to the cargo van I returned home in yesterday. Dixie takes off after Brew, stopping by his parked bike and throwing her arms around his neck, kissing his face repeatedly. Jezebel strolls over to Bulk, swaying her hips and grabbing her boobs to give him a show. He shakes his head, laughing at her. I can’t help but chuckle too. That’s one wild woman.
Pixie stands close to me, biting her lip and waits for Axel. As soon as he shuts down his bike, he opens his arms wide, and she runs to him, throwing herself into his outstretched arms. Tripper and Dallas roll up beside each other and park. Reaching between their bikes, they pat one another on the shoulder, which speaks volumes about their brotherhood.
Unexpectedly, I am bumped from behind, and a muscled arm is thrown over my shoulder, a hand goes to my belly. I don’t even have to look to know who it is. It’s Gunz, showing me love and getting his grandpa time.
Keeping my eyes forward watching the gate, I anxiously wait for Big. He’s taking longer than I expected; everyone else is already here. Those with old ladies are all being welcomed home with affection. Dallas already has Debbie dipped over his bike, and he’s stripping off her shirt as we speak. There’s going to be another fuck show in the driveway very soon. Those brothers without old ladies are tiredly climbing off their Hogs and filing into the clubhouse.
Viper pecks my cheek on his way inside, “Good to see ya home.”
My brother Jizz caringly pats my shoulder before he strides into the clubhouse, looking haggard as hell. It’s gonna be quite the eventful evening. When the brothers return home, they always party. Tonight, after their run was cut short because of my crazy ass mother, they will be hitting the booze and pussy extra hard. Bet Gunz already put a call out to Niki, telling her to round up as much easy pussy as she can find.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch my daddy dismount his bike and stride my way. He stops in front of me, forcing me to tear away from the empty front entrance and meet his matching blue eyes. Gunz takes a step back, releasing me and his grandbaby.
Daddy doesn’t speak when he crushes me to him, and I instinctively hug him back, turning my head and resting my cheek on his chest. “I’m so sorry,” he says thickly. “I shoulda known she’d do somethin’ stupid. I shoulda listened to Big.”
“Shoulda listened to Big?” I mutter to his chest, confused.
His hands rub up and down my back, in a calming motion. “He told me she would pull somethin’ like this. Told me he didn’t wanna go on the run so he could stay and protect ya. I told him he had to go ‘cause the other club needed to see his face, know who’s backin’ ‘em, and who they’re gettin’ into bed with. I coulda went on my own, but nobody’s that scared of me. Sometimes you just gotta bring in the big guns.”
I get what he’s saying. He needed the Prez. Not only ‘cause he’s the prez but because he’s a fucking six foot eight giant. Makes sense to me.
I nod my understanding to his chest as his hands find their way to the back of my head, combing through my hair.
Daddy holds me close for some time. I listen to his heart lub-lub in one ear and lack of Harley sounds with my other. Where in the fuck is Big? Why isn’t he here? Shouldn’t he have already rolled through the gate?
Unlatching from Daddy, I meet his eyes once more, “Where’s Big?” I chew my lip, knowing that his answer is not going to be one I want to hear.
Right in front of me, as if on cue, my daddy’s face changes from one of concern for his daughter to Steel just like his name. He’s hiding something. Something huge.
“Where’s Big, Daddy?” I repeat sternly.
“He went to take care of some business.” His face gives nothing away. It’s purely impassive. Showing no signs of what the hell Big is truly up to. I don’t know how he does it. How can he go from loving, caring father to hardened prick? It’s impressive on most occasions, but right now I’m annoyed as hell.
“Daddy,” I warn.
“Bink,” his tone deepens.
Gunz, who was never far away, presses his chest to my back and wraps his arms around me, both of his hands going to my belly, his chin to my shoulder. “Leave it be, Baby Doll,” he whispers to my ear. As if that’ll calm me down.
Clenching my fists at my sides, I shake my head defiantly. “I’m not calmin’ down. I asked a simple question. My old man is not home with his brothers, and I want to know where he is.” That’s it, I’ve lost my patience. My body hurts like a motherfucker, I was force-fed and pacified all day, and now Big’s not even home. I was anxious enough to see him anyhow, and now he’s god knows where doing god knows what. And my daddy isn’t going to tell me shit.
Where could he be? What could he be doing? I wonder, picking my own brain for some sort of inclination. Oh. Fuck. A wave of revelation washes through me. He’s not here, and everybody else is. There is only one thing he’d want to do on his own without any witnesses!
“Big’s dealing with my mother, isn’t he?” I fiercely question my daddy and cock my head to the side, assessing his steely face.
Daddy doesn’t respond. He steps forward, and kisses my forehead.
Oh hell no! He’s not going to answer me! Angrily, I reach out to grab his cut to make him talk to me. Only Gunz is quicker to deflect my outburst.
“Calm down,” Gunz says in my ear, gripping my wrists, holding them at my sides. I try to tug them out of his hold, but he doesn’t let go. Motherfucker!
Daddy pays me one final glance and goes into the clubhouse. That asshole is going to pay! Big isn’t home, and nobody wants to tell me why. Not only does he have a secret old lady behind my back and I have a secret sister, he’s now withholding this information too. That asshole will be lucky if I ever speak to him after all of this is said and fucking done. Argghh! Why are men so frustrating?
Gunz releases my wrists and spins me around to face him. I frown, and he brings his forehead down to mine, as his hands cup the sides of my belly. “I’m tellin’ you this in confidence. We clear?” His serious eyes bore into mine.
“Yes.”
“Big called me this morning asking me to get the location of the cabin from Malcolm—”
“And?” I interrupt, impatient.
“And he said he was gonna run up there and take care of things.”
“What do you mean take care of things?” I emphasize.
“I didn’t ask, and I’m not going to,” he states just as Harley kicks. Gunz chuckles deeply at her batting his hands, and he smiles making the mature lines around his eyes crinkle. I reach up and cup the side of his handsome face and rub the lines with my finger. His head tilts to my touch, resting in my palm. The scruff of his rough cheek prickles my skin.
“What do you think he’ll do?” I query barely above a whisper. Milking information from Gunz is best served sweetly, not like a bitch, which in all honesty is exactly what I want to do. But I can’t.
He shrugs and smoothes his hands over the sides of my belly. “This little girl is all that matters,” he softly presses into my bump for emphasis.
“I know that, but I still wanna know what he is gonna do. I don’t want him out there alone.”
“I know that, and I already asked him if he wanted me to be there for backup. He don’t want that.” He’s firm. “Your mother has put that man through enough over the years. And that ain’t even includin’ the shit she’s done to you, which pisses him the fuck off. He’s doin’ whatever he feels is right, which none of us is gonna change. So you and I are better off not knowin�
�. It’ll make it easier for everybody to just move on, and trust me we ain’t ever gonna have to worry about seein’ that crazy bitch again,” Gunz explains.
“Daddy coulda just told me that,” I comment to myself and step back from Gunz, dropping my hand from his cheek. He stands up straight but keeps hold of my t-shirt clad belly. He’s obsessed with it, what can I say? A tried and true grandpa addict.
“Don’t you think he’s got enough to handle right now? He didn’t want Big stayin’ behind, then you get kidnapped. He’s gotta be feelin’ guilty ‘bout that. Considerin’ his ex-wife, your mother, was the problem. Steel don’t want you nowhere near that shit. I don’t either, but I knew if I didn’t tell ya, you were gonna end up with a burr up your ass. And we’re just happy to have you back.”
I know he’s right. I know my daddy probably does feel guilty. And I know for damn sure I would have a burr up my ass. I still do. Not going to admit that to anyone but you though. I was just preparing myself to see Big, and he’s not even here. I feel like all that mental preparation was for nothing. I was going to give him the cold shoulder, and then I was going to yell at him and tell him that he lied to me about my sister. Then I was going to, if I could reach them, kick him in the balls. I had it all played out in my head. Big rolls up wanting to hug me, and I let all my anger out. I need to let my anger out! I need someone to yell at. Someone to release all this internal bullshit on. He’s the only person I know who can handle my shit. The only fucking person who can listen to me yell and scream, and he’ll still want to look at me the next morning. The only fucking person on the planet who can handle my snarky mouth and emotional fits. He gets me.
Fuck! He was the man who a few weeks back sat and watched The Notebook with me, while I ate chocolate and screamed at Allie and Noah for waiting so long to be together. Stupid fucking Pixie suggested I watch the movie because I’d never seen it before. Had no clue what I was getting myself into until I started ugly crying a quarter of the way into the movie. Big didn’t even laugh. He just cuddled with me on our basement couch and let me yell at those idiots for wasting years of their lives without each other. After I got done watching that damn movie, I realized I was more upset by it because it somehow connected to me and Big’s relationship and us taking so many years to be together. So yeah… I might be pissed at him, I want to kill him, and I hate him for what he might have done on the run with some bitches in the bedroom and the blowjob before he left. But he’s my other half. The only person in the whole world who can handle all of this little crazy biker bitch and still love me in the end. Even if he is a controlling asshole of a bastard ninety percent of the damn time. He’s still my controlling asshole of a bastard, and that’s all that matters to me.
The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 3 (MC Chronicles #3) Page 18