by J. L. Leslie
When Griffin parks, he leans over and gives me a kiss and I get the feeling that he’s trying to remind me that he cares for me, that we’re together. After Steve’s earlier comment, maybe he’s trying to remind himself.
“I’ll see you tonight.” I assure him.
I drive to work in silence, not turning my radio on. I get my burner phone out and send my dad a text letting him know I’ll be staying at Griffin’s place tonight. With everything going on with the Rykers, I don’t want him getting worried when I don’t come home.
I get to the hospital and clock back in. I’m barely there twenty minutes when the ER is starting to fill up. Three sick children, one teen with a broken leg, two traumas from a vehicle accident, and two men with unknown wounds from an assault.
Dr. Hetresky tells me to take the two men so I head to the next to last curtain to check on the first patient. I’m pulling his information up on my screen as I walk. Kevin Jordan. 32. Caucasian. My heart plummets as I recognize the name. Kevin has been a Raven since he was twenty-six. He works in the shop as a mechanic and does a damn good paint job on the bikes.
Now, he’s lying in a hospital bed with a deep three-inch long laceration to his chest and two on his left arm. He looks pale, but gives me a slight smile as I approach.
“Sir, can you tell me your name and date of birth?” I ask, keeping things professional.
“Still asking that, Rai?” he teases. “Kevin Jordan. 7/16/84. You missed my birthday party.”
“I’m sure it was fun.” I muse. “Can you please tell me how you incurred these wounds?”
“Cooking.” he smirks. “Knife got a little out of hand.”
I arch my eyebrow at him, knowing he’s full of shit. “Is that so?”
“Yep.” he replies. “I knew I should’ve dried my hands off before I went to grab that knife.”
I know I won’t get a better response than this out of him, despite how ridiculous it is.
“Let me get you stitched up.” I tell him.
“Preston’s next door. He was helping me cook.” he informs me.
I roll my eyes and head out of the room to get a few suture kits. After I clean them both up and stitch up their wounds, I give them both aftercare instructions that I know they’ll have trouble following. At least they came to the hospital for these wounds. I encouraged my dad when I became a nurse to pay for medical expenses for the Ravens and stop trying to act like a doctor. If the prospects and members knew he offered medical care, they would be more loyal. I was right.
The onslaught of patients doesn’t slow down as my shift goes on. I wind up finishing up close to eleven. I call Griffin when I leave and he still wants me to come stay with him.
When I get to his house, I’m surprised to find him still in his work clothes. His tie is draped over the back of his couch and a few files are spread on his coffee table.
“I brought work home with me.” he explains, but starts closing the files and putting them in his briefcase.
“I thought you’d be ready for bed. It’s late.”
“I am.” he smiles. “But I thought we’d shower first. I knew you’d need one so I waited for you.”
He takes my hand and leads me to his bathroom. I let Griffin undress me and try to push thoughts of Luka out of my mind. It keeps wanting to wander back to when we were together in my bathroom. Stop, Raiden.
I step under the spray and Griffin steps in behind me. He rubs my shoulders, kneading away the knots of tension. He lathers soap in his hands and gently washes my body and hair. The soap washes down the drain and Griffin’s hands move over my skin. Why can’t it be this easy? Why can’t this be real?
He slides into me and I close my eyes. The water washes my tears away.
~Luka~
“I’m booked up, Luka.” Diesel tells me. “Shit, you haven’t fought in a while and now you come in here on Friday night demanding to be in the ring?”
“I need it.” I bite out.
“Let me see what I can do.” he grunts and I nod.
I know I can find someone to slam my fists into if I want to, but I need the structured chaos of the cage. Especially after I had to sit outside Griffin Knowles house most of the night.
I watched Raiden walk in a little after eleven o’clock. I watched her use a key to go inside like she fucking lived there. I saw her silhouette through his window and I watched him lead her to God only knows where.
My imagination ran wild then. What were they doing? Was he balls deep inside her and smacking her ass as he pounded into her? Does he like to fuck her from behind and pull her hair or is he into slow lovemaking with her? Kinky shit? S&M? Rough stuff?
I tortured myself with different scenarios until I could practically hear Raiden calling his name. After that, I went home, showered, and jerked off until I could imagine her calling my name.
I went to work at the mill and barely kept my eyes open. Now I’ve crashed for a couple hours and I’m ready to get to this anger flushed out of my system.
Lincoln still refuses to see me. I check with the jail every day. My brother has shut me out. The woman who invades nearly my every thought is fucking another man. To top it all off, I’m running on fumes from only sleeping a couple hours a night…and sometimes that’s in the middle of the day.
“I got you.” Diesel says. “Winner of the last fight will take you on.”
“Works for me. Appreciate it.”
I find an empty table in the back corner. I don’t order any alcohol, knowing I need to keep a clear mind for the fight. I just sit back and observe the patrons and the fighters getting ready to go in. I notice Hayes across the room and I can see that he’s talking to someone, but I can’t make out who it is. He gives me a wave and heads in my direction.
“You fighting tonight?” he asks and I nod.
“It’s been a while so I figured it was time.”
“Shit, we been working so much, it’s nice to have a night out.” he laughs. “Dax is supposed to come check out some more prospects. I sure as hell hope he finds some. Take a fucking load off of us.”
“Since when do you complain?” I joke. “More prospects means less pussy for you.”
“Nah. The club whores love me.” he grins. “Speaking of whores…”
Hayes’ voice trails as he waves over a group of women I’ve seen frequenting the clubhouse. They’re a little too eager to see him as they join us. I keep things polite and make small talk with them, but I have zero interest. I admit, I’m a little annoyed by this revelation.
I should want to. I shouldn’t feel guilty in the slightest. But the woman rubbing on my thigh makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong. Like I should push her hand away and tell her I’m taken. Even though I’m not.
“I’m up.” I say and I’m grateful for the excuse to interrupt.
The blonde lets out a soft whimper of frustration as I stand up. I don’t give her a second glance as I head over to the cage. I don’t recognize the fighter I’m against, Lazarus or something, but it doesn’t matter to me. He’s had a good half hour to rest up and he looks ready. I size him up. He’s got a good twenty pounds on me. His left hook was a killer against Baker, the guy he just beat. I’ll be sure to look out for it.
The cage door closes with a clang. I can feel my opponent’s eyes on me, but I don’t buy into his tactics. I go to a corner and start loosening myself up like I always do. In a matter of minutes, I’ll be feeling better. One way or another.
I listen to the referee go over the rules, ones I’m very familiar with, and then the fight begins. Lazarus is fast, but his moves are easy to anticipate. I maneuver out of a choke hold and deliver two quick jabs to his abdomen.
This is what I needed. The adrenaline of a fight. My mind is focused on my opponent. Not Lincoln. Not Raiden. Not the Ravens.
After a few rounds, I’m ready to end this. My lip is bleeding and my knuckles are bloody. I’ve had my fun and if I’m not careful, Lazarus will get the better of me. He spears i
nto me and takes me to the mat. I struggle against him and somehow manage to get him into an anaconda choke. He fights to break free, but I tighten my hold. As I’m holding him, I see the emblazoned ‘R’ on his hand and I know then that he’s a member of the Rykers. I grip tighter until he taps out.
The referee taps my hand and I release him. Before I can stand, he takes a cheap shot and delivers a left hook. Fucker. I come at him and the ref does his best to break us apart as guards enter the ring.
He spits blood onto my chest and growls out, “Ask that brother of yours what it was liked getting fucked up the ass!”
Chapter Eighteen
~Raiden~
I laugh at the Tom Hardy meme that Michelle, one of the nurse’s on shift with me, shows me. She has a huge crush on Tom Hardy and any time we have some down time at work, she’s looking him up online.
Our shift is almost over and surprisingly, it’s been a little quiet. Busy, but quiet for a Friday night.
“I swear, the things I would do to that man.” Michelle mumbles and I chuckle.
“You’re incorrigible.”
“That’s what he said.” she jokes.
I click submit, finalizing my last note and then I hear the page for a trauma coming in. I look at Michelle and she shrugs.
“I knew it had been too quiet.” I comment.
Michelle and I both grab a pair of gloves and meet Dr. Hetresky as the EMTs bring the patient through to the emergency department. As they’re rattling off his info, the fact that he’s an inmate grabs my attention.
I come around to his right side and ask if he can hear me. All I get is a garbled response. Blood is matted in his dark blonde hair and both of eyes are swollen shut. Dried blood covers his face and down his neck.
“Name?” I ask one of the EMTs. “Do we have a name?”
“Varelli.” he answers. “Lincoln Isaiah Varelli.”
No. Please no. “Lincoln? Lincoln, can you hear my voice?” I ask and I see him slightly nod.
Dr. Hetresky cuts away his shirt and Michelle gasps. Some of the other nurses have the same reaction. Multiple jagged stab wounds mar his abdomen. The EMTs have somewhat gotten the bleeding under control, but he’s still lost a lot of blood.
“Doc, there are more wounds to his back and he has rectal bleeding. It appears there’s trauma to that area.” The same EMT who gave me his name informs us. “The lacerations to the back appear to be more superficial. We were able to close up the deepest laceration located just here.”
He points to the location and I see a bandage low on Lincoln’s left side. It’s already soaked through in blood from his other wounds, but I see why the EMT showed us where it was rather than told us. There’s so much blood we can barely see the bandage.
Lincoln moans and I’m shocked that he’s still awake. Hell, that he’s still alive. I brush the hair out of eyes and lean down close to him.
“Lincoln, we’re taking care of you now.” I assure him. “Just stay calm.”
I don’t promise him that everything will be okay because I don’t make empty promises. Lincoln opens his mouth and then coughs, blood gurgling in this throat.
“He’s coughing up blood, doc!” I call out.
“Let’s get him to surgery!” Dr. Hetresky yells and the staff continues to work like a well-oiled machine.
Six hours later, I stand beside Lincoln’s bed while he’s in recovery. Forty-two stab wounds. Forty-two. He was also severely beaten and gang raped. I know the Rykers do some pretty fucked up things, but I didn’t think they would do them to their own members.
I leave the room and walk down to the nursing station. With trembling hands, I pick up the phone and dial Luka’s number since he’s listed as the next of kin in Lincoln’s chart. When he answers the phone I swallow to try and get some composure before I speak.
“May I speak with Luka Varelli?” I ask, grateful that I’m keeping it together since these phone lines are recorded.
“Speaking.” he replies.
“Mr. Varelli, this is Raiden Daughtry calling from Mercy Memorial Hospital. I regret to inform you that you’re brother, Lincoln, was brought in a few hours ago. We currently have him in a room and if you’d like to come in, we can explain…”
The line goes dead before I can even finish my sentence. I put the phone back down and then feel Michelle nudge my back.
“I think we have a problem.” she says, quietly.
I look up and Pierce, Deanna, and Janelle, some of the other nurses on shift tonight, are walking down the hall followed by several Rykers. I know Michelle doesn’t know who they are, but I do. Cal is right in the middle and he arches his eyebrow just slightly when he sees me. His green eyes shift over the upper half of my body, scanning the area they can see.
“Right this way.” Pierce explains. “As I stated when you came in, he’s in ICU and guards are already posted outside his door. Only immediate family can enter.”
Thank you, Pierce. He speaks with such a firm voice and not an ounce of fear despite the fact that ten men are following behind him. He may suspect what they’re capable of, but he doesn’t let it keep him from doing his job.
Nearly everyone in Verdana knows about the Ravens, Rykers, and Drycos. The majority of this town has, at some point, come into contact or done business with a motorcycle club member. There’s barely a part of this town that isn’t owned by one of the clubs.
“We simply want to stand outside and make sure our member is safe.” Cal tells him. “You won’t have any trouble out of us. You have my word.”
~Luka~
I rush down the hall, looking for any sign of a nurse or doctor. I just need someone who can tell me where my brother is. After I hung up on Raiden, I rushed out of the clubhouse and drove here as fast as I could. I should have known Lazarus wasn’t just spouting off bullshit to get me riled up.
Once the fight had been broken up, I called the jail, but was assured Linc was fine and resting in his cell. I don’t know if that was true or if the guard I spoke to is on the Rykers’ payroll. Most likely the latter.
Finally, I see a nurse and stop her. “I’m looking for Lincoln Varelli.” I tell her. “I’m his brother.”
“I’m not sure…” she begins.
“I need to see my brother!” I yell.
A soft hand on my arm interrupts me before I can yell any more. Raiden stands beside me and it takes everything in me not to fall apart. She looks tired and I’m pretty certain that her shift ended some time ago.
“He’s in ICU. He’s stable right now.” she informs me and I blink back tears. The other nurse slips away and I silently thank her.
“Take me to him.”
“Luka, you need to prepare yourself.” she says. “And…”
“Take me to him, Raiden.”
“I will, but you should know the Rykers are standing guard outside his door. You can’t engage with them.” I notice two nurses approaching as she finishes her statement. “Right this way, Mr. Varelli.”
I follow Raiden, all the way telling myself that I can control myself. I can hold in this anger that’s raging inside me and not let it loose. Yeah right.
The moment I step through the ICU doors, I see the men lining the hall. Cal looks in my direction and a smirk plays at his lips. I haven’t even seen Linc yet, but I know this sorry piece of shit eyeing me is responsible.
“Don’t.” Raiden warns, knowing that I want to lunge at him, take him down with every fiber of my being.
She pushes open the door to Linc’s room and I follow in behind her. The soft beeping of his machines are the only noise I hear. That and the inaudible choke that I make when I see him. I barely recognize him.
I take his limp hand in mine and lean over his bed, pressing my forehead to his. “What did they do to you?” I whisper. Beep. Beep. Beep. Lincoln doesn’t stir or make any kind of move to answer me.
“He’s heavily sedated.” Raiden says.
I stand up straight, but don’t let go of his hand. I
know he isn’t squeezing mine back, but it feels good to hold his hand in mine.
“What happened?” I question and Raiden crosses her arms over her chest.
“I should get Dr. Hetresky.”
“Raiden, it’s me.” I plead. “Just tell me what they did to him.”
She slowly walks over to the bed and rests her hand on top of mine. “Just stay in this room, Luka. No matter what I tell you, stay in this room and be with Lincoln.”
My jaw clenches and fear knots in my stomach. “I need to know.”
“He was stabbed, a lot of times, Luka. He lost a significant amount of blood. He had some lacerations on his arms, abdomen, and back that were mostly superficial. It’s hard to tell how many attackers were involved, but some wounds appear to be defense wounds.”
“What else?”
“There was damage to his spleen and we had to remove one of his kidneys, but people can function just fine with only one kidney.”
Raiden’s gaze drifts down to where her hand still rests on mine and I can see tears swimming in her eyes.
“Luka, there was…” she clears her throat before continuing, “there was rectal bleeding and evidence of…”
I let out an anguished roar and push away from the bed. Before I can make it to the door, Raiden grabs my arms.
“Luka, you can’t!”
“I’m sick as fuck of the things I can’t do!” I hiss and shrug her off me.
I fling the door open and have my blade against Cal’s throat within seconds. He holds his hands up, signaling for his men to stand down. I press the blade against his skin, causing blood to bead up on the steel.
“It’s not me you should be angry at.” he says, calmly.
“The hell it isn’t.” I grit out.
“I told you before, Luka, you joined the wrong club.” he states and cocks his head to the side. “Ask your president what happened to your brother.”
I know Raiden must have called security back the moment I stormed out of the room because they’re on me before I can press my blade further into Cal’s throat. I can hear her instructing them to take me to an on-call room so I can cool off.