Black (Thor Book 1)

by Mia Malone

  Ice already had a phone by his ear but moved it away slightly.

  “Raz is twenty minutes away. He’s already on his way.

  “Tell him to step on it.”

  “He’ll –”

  “I fucking feel it, Ice. He needs to step on it.”

  “He will,” Ice said.

  “Let’s go.” Black started moving but turned toward the young girl. “I owe you, Marisha. I won’t forget.”

  “Bring her back,” Janie called out after him, but he didn’t respond.

  Instead, he swung a leg over his bike and drove south with Ice and Brooks right behind him. They were followed by a line of members of Thor and others fell in line as they continued toward the house in Idaho where they’d last seen Cas’ phone as a little blue dot on the screen.

  Half an hour later Black raised a fist and pulled over to the side.

  “Raz,” he said into the small microphone at the side of his helmet. “Talk to me.”

  “Got the fucker,” Raz’ voice rasped out. “Saw him through the window. Clipped him in the side. I’m down. Not sure...”

  A set of dry coughs came over the line, and Black wiped off his face with a hand that was trembling a little.

  “Are you shot, man?”

  “Yeah. Shoulder and gut. It’s not good.”

  Shit. Fucking shit.

  “Cassandra?”

  “Don’t know. There were shots from inside. Saw him go down. Haven’t seen her.”

  “We’ll call for –”

  “Already called it in, have them on the line on my other phone.” Raz coughed again and went on, “They say they’re here in five.”

  “Hang in there, Raz.”

  “It’s not good, Black. Not sure I’ll make it.”

  “You’ll hold the fuck on,” Black roared. “I’m the goddamned president of Thor now, and you’d better do what I fucking tell you.”

  “Not my prez,” Raz wheezed, and there was a hint of a smile in his voice.

  He’d said that to Roddy many times when the old man had tried to order him around.

  “Don’t give a shit. You’ll –”

  “Sirens,” Raz cut him off. “Ambulance.”

  “Hang in there.”

  “Tell Joke to call Patrick and Brody Baker. Friends of mine and he’s met them. Tell them I said I told you so.”

  Then Black heard the sirens too and closed his eyes briefly.

  “Black?” Ice asked quietly.

  “Raz is down. The asshole is down. No clue about Cas.”

  “Shit.”

  Black listened as the sirens stopped abruptly and then there were voices shouting in the background. He tried to hear what they were saying, but it was impossible to know who they were talking about.

  “Raz,” he barked. “You still there, man?”

  “Boise,” Raz wheezed, “They’re taking us to Boise.”

  Then the line went silent.

  “Boise,” Black grunted. “I’m gonna go fast. Do not try to keep up with me.”

  “Broth –”

  “This is an order,” Black said harshly and looked at the men surrounding him. He would push the limits, and he didn’t want the others to take that risk. “Do not try to keep up. That’s an order.”

  He glared at Ice to make sure his brother got that he had to obey and that things were different now. That shit had shifted when their dad cut his patch and handed it to Black. After a few tense seconds, Ice nodded slowly and took a small step backward.

  “Drive safe.”

  “Always.”

  ***

  Black passed his parents half an hour outside Boise.

  He’d slowed down enough to take a call from his brother, so he knew that his mom and dad had picked up Desi and kept going south on the interstate when they heard what had happened.

  Ice had also told him that Cas was alive.

  Raz was in bad shape and had been airlifted somewhere.

  The Sheriff was in bad shape but still in Boise.

  And Cassandra was in bad shape.

  She’d been shot in the shoulder and side, there was internal bleeding, and they would operate which would take hours so he should slow down.

  Black closed the call and increased his speed. He was as safe as his brethren from around the mountains could make it, and he would get to her. He slowed down marginally again to take the call from his dad shortly after they’d disappeared from his rearview mirrors.

  “Son, for fuck’s sake,” Roddy barked. “Never thought I’d say this but slow the hell down.”

  “No.”

  “Jesus Christ. You’re going to –”

  “Had blockers most of the way.”

  His dad was silent when he heard that, and then he sighed.

  “They have your back.”

  They did. A lot of men who had been searching for Cas had reached the road Black was traveling on at a speed not even remotely within the boundaries of the law, and they had spread out along it. They stood by the exits and ramps, sideroads and crossroads, blocking the traffic to let Black pass by without hurting others or himself. He wasn’t sure who had organized it and also didn’t care as he pushed the bike and himself forward.

  “Jesus, boy. Drive carefully. You’re soon there.”

  Black closed the call and increased his speed again.

  Soon there.

  What should have been a seven-hour drive had taken him four, and he parked his bike right outside the entrance, ignored the men shouting at him that he couldn’t park there, and walked inside.

  Two of his sons, his sister and Joke, Doug Hanes, and three of his trackers waited inside.

  “They won’t tell us,” Joke said immediately. “We’re not next of kin.”

  “She alive?”

  “They won’t say but she’s in surgery, so I think so.”

  “Huh,” Black said and walked up to a woman behind the counter.

  She was around his age, dressed in white and glared at him when he leaned in.

  “I need to know what’s going on with Cassandra Davis,” he said, trying to sound calm.

  “Are you her husband?”

  He thought about lying, but assumed they would know somehow, and shook his head.

  “Family?”

  “I need to know,” Black repeated.

  Her eyes slid over the group behind him, and her face hardened.

  “Look at me,” Black roared.

  Her eyes moved over him, and he saw her reach for what he assumed was an emergency button.

  “No,” he said, forcing himself to calm down and glanced at the name tag on her chest. “Corinne. Don’t look at the vest and the patches. Not the tat’s or the men around me.” He made a fist and pressed it against his chest, right over his heart. “Look at me.”

  Her eyes flew to his, and he swallowed.

  “This is my woman. I’m fifty-five years old, and I waited a very long time for her. Now I have her, and I’m holding on by a thread here because I might fucking lose her again. And we aren’t married, but she’s mine. She won’t be with anyone else for the rest of her life.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat, and added quietly, “All I need to know is how long the rest of that life will be.”

  Her face softened, and then she nodded brusquely.

  “I’ll go and see what I can find out.”

  “Thank you,” he murmured, but she was already halfway down the corridor.

  He heard the others talk, but also how his sons moved them away and then he was alone, standing there with his hands in tight fists on his hips, waiting for the nurse to come back.

  It felt like an eternity, but then the doors opened, and she walked toward him.

  “Dad,” his youngest son said calmly at his side. “We’re here, Eye and I. Whatever she says, we’ll hold you up, okay?”

  “Yeah,” Black said and tried to interpret the blank look on the woman’s face.

  “Right,” she said. “I’ll be blunt because I think th
at’s what you need.”

  Black held his breath and nodded once.

  Please, God. Please don’t let her die. I’ll –

  “She is alive. She shouldn’t be, but she is. They didn’t think she’d make the transport down here, but she did. Didn’t think she’d make it through the first part of the surgery, but somehow, she did that too. They’ve got some more work to do, and if she can hold on through that, then she has a chance. If she makes it through the next twenty-four hours, that chance increases dramatically.” She sighed and added, “I can’t share the details of her injuries with you because it would be unethical, and I also don’t know all of it.”

  “She’ll make it,” Black said, and felt his shoulders slump with relief.

  “I didn’t say that,” the nurse protested. “She is in critical condition, and she might –”

  “She’s a survivor, my Cassandra,” Black cut her off. “She survived being thrown away in a dumpster when she was three days old. Survived growing up as a foster child. Survived the death of the only decent people she’d ever known, a ruptured goddamned uterus, a divorce, and a madman chasing her and her daughter through five states. There is no way Cassandra Davis will not survive this because that’s what she fucking does. She survives. She’s such a fighter, my woman.”

  “Oh,” the nurse breathed out. “I can’t even –”

  “You go on back there and tell them to fight for her,” Black rasped out. “Tell them they can’t give up because she won’t.”

  “I’ll tell them,” she said and nodded. “Hang in there.”

  Black nodded and tried to smile, but it felt wobbly.

  “Dad,” Eirik said. “Let’s get you something to eat. And coffee.”

  “Yeah,” Black said, but called out to the nurse who had turned to walk away. “Corinne?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “There will be more people coming,” Black added. “We’ll need somewhere to wait.”

  “People looking like you?” she asked and made a gesture around her torso to indicate a vest.

  “Yeah,” Black said, and added with half a grin. “And probably a lot of them.”

  “Dear God,” she murmured. “Right. We’ll set something up.”

  He gulped down coffee and ate the burger someone had gone out to get him. People started arriving just like he’d predicted, and then he heard steps.

  Someone was running through the corridor and not someone in heavy biker boots.

  It was the sound of sneakers, and they were moving toward him fast.

  “Black!”

  He caught her in his arms and felt her breathe raggedly.

  “She’s still alive, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Still fighting.”

  “God.”

  That one word.

  A single sob.

  He raised his head and looked at his mother who had tears in her eyes.

  “Son,” his dad said and put a hand on his shoulder. “How are you holding up?”

  “She’s still with us,” Black repeated. “I’m holding up by holding on to that, Dad. I’ve never met a fighter like that woman, and I believe in her. She’ll make it.”

  He had to believe that, so that’s what he told everyone during the next hours.

  I’m good.

  She’s still with us.

  Still fighting.

  I’m holding my shit together.

  She’ll make it.

  On the inside, he was raging and crying and making deals with the Lord.

  But he held on with his teeth and nails to that one thing.

  She’ll make it.

  Word came from the hospital Raz had been transferred to. He was also in surgery, and the bullets had ripped through his gut, but he was still fighting too, and he had a chance. His friends were on their way, and Joke had promised to pick them up at the airport.

  The waiting room was full of bikers, and Black saw how the hospital staff watched them, but the nurse he’d talked too moved around without fear.

  “Black,” Desi whispered into his shoulder. “I will kill that man.”

  “Desiree...”

  “Black.”

  Well, fuck it. He recognized the look she had in her eyes and knew what that stubborn chin lift meant.

  “Sweetheart,” he said gently. “Your mama won’t want that.”

  “If she doesn’t make it? If she dies? Then I will,” Desi said and watched him calmly.

  He sighed and leaned down to put his mouth by her ear.

  “If she doesn’t make it you won’t have to kill him. I will.”

  She nodded, and he felt her whole body relax.

  “Promise?”

  “I promise you, Desiree. I’ll cut his throat.”

  Her eyes widened, and she murmured, “You’re not joking.”

  He shook his head slowly.

  “Good.”

  “Excuse me,” the nurse cut in. “You should probably keep your voices down. Just in case he does end up with a slit throat, I mean.”

  “No one here would mind one bit if he did,” Black said with a shrug but heard Desi stifle a curse.

  “He’s not doing too good,” the nurse said.

  “Don’t care.”

  “Was she the one who shot him?”

  “We think so,” Black said. “Police are investigating, but it looks like she still had it in her to fire her gun at him.”

  “Good,” the nurse said, and was about to add something but snapped her mouth shut.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Corinne.”

  She leaned in close and whispered, “I shouldn’t tell you, but it’ll come out. She shot him in the crotch. Repeatedly.”

  “She –”

  “They’re not sure they’ll be able to save his... genitals. She fired the gun several times.”

  “She shot his dick off?” Black asked, not sure he’d heard what he’d heard.

  “Yes. And, um... other things. Pretty much everything down there, actually.”

  In the middle of a shitstorm with a red-eyed and scared shitless girl in his arms, Black Hagen barked out a short laugh.

  “Cassandra, for fuck’s sake,” he muttered with a sigh and leaned back in the chair but straightened again immediately.

  A doctor approached and the nurse next to him inhaled.

  Right.

  This was it.

  Both Black and Desi moved toward him, and Black felt her tremble under the arm he held around her shoulders.

  “Corinne,” the man in green scrubs said. “Are you still on?”

  “I’m just gonna stay a while longer,” the nurse said. “Want to...” she made a gesture toward the waiting room, and added, “Yeah. A while longer.”

  “Right. Cassandra Davis’ next of kin?”

  “I’m her daughter,” Desi said.

  The doctor looked at Black, and he straightened, but Desi spoke up immediately.

  “This is my father.”

  “Sweetheart,” Black murmured and glanced at the nurse. “They know I’m not your dad.”

  “Well if Mom had met you nineteen years ago you would have been.”

  “Doc Owens, this is her next of kin,” the nurse cut in.

  The doc’s brows were high on his forehead, but the nurse just nodded.

  “Right. Let’s sit down.”

  “She alive?” Black asked and didn’t move.

  “Yes, she’s alive.” The doctor seemed to realize the Black wasn’t going anywhere and went on, “She had extensive damage to...”

  He went through medical details, but all Black could hear was how the man had confirmed that Cas was alive.

  “It’s very reassuring that she’s doing so well after the surgery. If she makes it through the rest of the night, she’ll have a good chance. If there are complications, we’ll have to reevaluate what to do.”

  “Right,” Black said. “When can we see her?�
��

  “We’re getting a room ready, but you won’t be able to...”

  He trailed off when the mood in the room suddenly changed.

  “Her daughter and I need to see her,” Black stated.

  The doctor was about to protest, but someone walked up to stand next to Desi, and he froze.

  Black knew who it was.

  His parents.

  And he knew why the doctor suddenly looked like a young and nervous boy.

  No one messed with Roderick Hagen because everyone knew he was a badass. Knew he was fierce and hard and handled a gun as if he’d been born with it in his hand.

  Most people didn’t know that of the two of them, Gee Hagen was the dangerous one.

  Black didn’t even turn because he didn’t have to. He knew what his mother looked like and how those pale blue eyes could freeze into frightening blocks of ice, slicing through any argument in a heartbeat.

  “You should probably let us see Cassandra,” Black murmured quietly.

  “Yuh,” the doc pushed out, which Gee apparently took as a confirmation that they would.

  She huffed softly, and said, “Excellent, then that’s decided. Do you want people to clear out, Black?”

  “Yeah. You’ll get a hotel room?”

  “Yes. We’ll wait for Desi.”

  “I’m not leaving,” Desi cut in.

  “Sweetie,” Black said. “You’ll take a peek at your mom, and then you’ll go with Gee and Roddy. They’ll bring you back in the morning.”

  “You’ll stay?”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay. And you’ll call if...”

  She swallowed, but he managed to give her a smile he hoped to fuck was reassuring.

  “Yeah,” he said hoarsely.

  “Give the order,” Roddy muttered. “We’ll help Brooks and Ice shuffle people out of here.”

  Black nodded, turned toward the crowd, nodded at Ice but locked eyes with Brooks, and made a gesture with his hand. People got up on their feet, and his parents walked back toward the crowd. He could tell that they shared what the doctor had said, and nodded to his sons before he turned back, “They’ll be gone in fifteen.”

  The doctor blinked a few times, and then he cleared his throat.

  “Okay. I wish my staff obeyed my orders that way.”

  Black raised a hand an tapped the patch on his chest.

  “This means something to people like us.”