Blow Out (Steel Veins Book 1)

by Jackson Kane

  Remy couldn’t die!

  The Lobos argued about what to do with me. I honestly didn’t care. Remy was my tether in this dark, jagged cave. It was hard to tell up from down, but as long as I was secured to him, I was safe, strong, and confident. I was still in that dark place, but I was falling free. I didn’t dare look up because I knew that every glance or touch from one of those men would cut me like a sharpened rock.

  My hands hovered shakily over Remy. I was terrified to touch him at first. He was bleeding from so many places! I didn’t know what to do! Was there even anything I could do? He wasn’t breathing.

  Oh, Remy, please don’t leave me.

  I finally placed my hands on his chest. I didn’t know if I thought I could stop the bleeding or if I just needed to touch him one last time.

  Remy stubbornly gasped in air, desperately clinging to life.

  His eyes flitted open then shut again.

  Jesus! He was still alive! I needed to do something! Anything! He was dying, and I needed to save him!

  Pull it together, Star. What would Remy do?

  “Hey!” I challenged, but no one heard me. “Hey, assholes!” I screamed, drawing every set of eyes in the room. Okay, Star, don’t freak out. “Someone help me get him into the car.”

  “Bitch, you don’t tell us what to—” Spyder started speaking, but I cut him off.

  “No! Bones, you offered Remy a job if he lived. If your word—if your honor is meaningless, then shoot me in the head right now! When I get to Hell, I’ll make sure to tell everyone how much of a coward and a liar you are!” I spat and growled out every single word. Despite the flowing tears, my eyes showed my fury, and I wouldn’t back down.

  “Do not insult my honor, chiquita,” Bones replied, holstering his pistol and returning to his seat at the head of the table. “Now leave here before I reach the limit of my patience.”

  “Not without Remy.” I had never sounded more unyielding in my life. Those three words could’ve chipped granite.

  “Chamaquita...” Bones exhaled, smoothing his moustache with two fingers. “I don’t want to give the Veins a martyr. Papa, Caballo, put him in the cop’s car.”

  “You knew?” I asked.

  “Of course, I knew. I had them run the VIN numbers when they checked for Lorenzo.”

  Flaco and Spyder heatedly argued with him in Spanish, but Bones silenced them and reaffirmed his order. “It doesn’t matter.” Bones switched back to English so that I could understand. He probably did it as a warning. “They can’t nail us to any of it. If she gets pulled over or if she’s stupid enough to talk while driving a stolen cop’s car, it’ll be her word against ours, and we own these cops. Last I heard, it was the Steel Veins who abducted her. The Steel Veins who put the hit out on her boyfriend, Poet. Not us. Now put him in the fucking car!”

  Remy was dragged back through the whole building to where we had entered. His breathing was so faint when they loaded him into the back seat of the car, but it was still there.

  That’s all that mattered.

  “Hold on, Remy....” I hauled ass out of there, looking for any other signs of life. It was late, and the first place I found was a McDonald’s. Only the drive-thru was open, but fortunately, it was empty. I didn’t bother with the speaker where I would place my order. Instead, I drove right up to the window, and the teenage employee directed me to the nearest hospital.

  How the hell was Remy still alive? I nervously looked him over again for the hundredth time. There was so much blood, and he was starting to turn an ashy pale color. Time was running out. I wished I knew anything about medical stuff. I stifled more tears and drove faster.

  Suddenly, red and blue lights and sirens wailed behind me.

  Oh, God.

  We couldn’t afford to be pulled over, not now! I was still dressed like a fucking stripper. If we get stopped, I’d be arrested. Remy would get medical attention but would also be linked to all the shit that went down in Vegas and be completely fucked. All because of his gunshot wounds.

  The gun Remy taped under the car! Could I get to it in time? I’d shot someone before and even killed a man by running him over. But this was a cop I was thinking of shooting…. That was too far, wasn’t it? Fuck! Everything I’d ever known was so blurry right now.

  The lights drew closer. Maybe I could outrun them. Was I insane? How many episodes of Cops had I seen where that ever worked? Fucking zero is how many. It wasn’t like I could outrun them, either.

  “I’m so sorry, Remy. I just can’t.” I slowed down and pulled over. Trying to kill a police officer was just too far for me.

  The cop behind us turned out to be an ambulance that blew right by us. Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! Wait! An ambulance? I must’ve been close to the hospital!

  I stomped on the gas. The flashing lights made it easy to follow. A few minutes later, the brightly lit St. Mary’s Hospital sign came into view and shone like a beacon of hope in the darkness.

  Remy saw this and finally woke up enough to grab my leg. “No… hospital. Records… Veins.” His voice was barely a whisper.

  Records? Oh, he’d be on file there. There’d be a record of us, or at least him, even if we entered him as a John Doe. The Steel Veins would probably hear that he’d been shot and figure the closest hospital was a good place to check for him. Same for the police or even the Lobos if they felt like tying up loose ends. Hospitals aren’t designed to keep people out. He’d be a sitting duck for however long it took him to get better.

  “Fuck!”

  We pulled up beside the ambulance. At this time of the night, the hospital was probably mostly dead.

  “What do I do, Remy? How do I help you, please?” I pleaded, but he’d passed out again. I didn’t know if it was the bumpy drive, but he was definitely bleeding more now.

  No! After all the crap getting him here and everything we’d been through these last few days, I refused to let him die in the fucking parking lot of a goddamn hospital!

  The rear ambulance doors were still open from when they rushed inside whomever it was that needed rushing.

  That’s when a crazy idea came into my head. I drove the car around so that the passenger side was right next to the back door of the ambulance. I got out of the car, grabbed the gun that Remy taped to the car, and secured it within my thong. The cold steel on my pussy sent a chill up my spine. I carefully raced around the car and half dragged, half pushed Remy the short distance into the back of the ambulance.

  I parked the stolen car in the adjacent visitor parking lot and jumped out just in time to see one of the EMTs exiting the building to have a smoke. He was pudgy, tired-looking, and, despite probably being in his late thirties, was weathered beyond his years.

  I ran up behind him, jammed the gun into his back, and led him to the ambulance. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time or the knowledge to remove the bullets or the magazine.

  Please don’t let this be one of those times that a gun just goes off for no reason!

  “Give me the keys!” I barked the words into the man’s ear.

  “Jesus! They’re in the ignition! Take it! Take it!” He dropped his cigarette and lighter in shock.

  “Get in the back.” I pushed the man toward the open double-doors and motioned for him to get in with Remy.

  “What the fuck!” He started to protest but got a good look at my gun and thought better of it.

  “You’d better make sure he doesn’t die!” I slammed the doors, jumped in the driver’s seat, and sped off.

  If there were no exterior cameras on the hospital, then we were all set. If there were... I didn’t want to think about that right now. Instead, I drove for half an hour before stopping by the side of a poorly lit road. The sky was lightening up in the distance. Soon, the fiery hues of dawn would burn away the night sky.

  I’d seen far too many dawns lately.

  “I’m coming back there,” I called out, tucking the firearm away. “Remember, I still have a gun, so don’t try a
nything!”

  Mentally, I scolded myself for sounding like a poorly written TV trope.

  When the door opened, I saw that Remy, barely conscious as he was, had grabbed the medic’s shirt, preventing him from rushing out the back as we slowed down.

  “How is he?” I was almost too afraid to ask.

  “He’s sort of stable now, but I don’t know for how long. He wouldn’t let me give him anything for the pain. He’s lost a ton of blood, okay? I’m not a doctor, and this isn’t the ER. Without proper treatment, he will die,” the bespectacled man warned.

  “We can’t take him to a hospital. People are obviously trying to kill him.” I climbed in and sat down beside Remy. I could tell he was in so much pain. It made my heart ache.

  “I, uh, figured as much. I take it the police are out of the question?”

  “Yeah. No, that’s not an option, either.” I brushed Remy’s shaggy hair away from his eyes. While now bandaged, the EMT hadn’t cleaned Remy up at all. The blood from his cheek had painted the whole side of his head and neck red. “We’re on our own.”

  “Listen, I’m sorry about your boyfriend, but, please, you gotta let me go. I have a wife and kids. I can’t get dragged into this kind of stuff. Please just let me go!” the medic pleaded with me.

  I did feel sorry for him, but I really didn’t have any choice. I felt the gun slip out of the near-negligible amount of fabric that covered my pussy. When I looked down, Remy, half an eye open, had the gun roughly pointed at the medic. His hand wavered with dwindling strength.

  What was he doing?

  “Oh, Jesus! Don’t kill me! I did the best I could!” The EMT screamed. For someone constantly around death, he sure did startle easy.

  “Don’t shoot him, Re—” I stopped myself from saying Remy’s name. The less this guy knew about us, the better. “This man probably saved your life.”

  “Wallet.” Every syllable Remy uttered was intensely labored. He shouldn’t have been talking at all.

  But as commanded, the medic handed it to me.

  Seriously? Was Remy really robbing him right now?

  “License... show me....”

  I did. What could he possibly want with the man’s license? It wasn’t like Remy could’ve passed himself off as the medic. They looked nothing alike.

  “Shawn... Grayson. I know... you... now. Stay quiet... about us… or... I’ll find... you.” Remy passed out again.

  I took the gun out of Remy’s limp hand, letting the implications linger for a moment longer. I had no doubt that if Remy wanted to find this man, he could. Granted, he’d need to survive the night first.

  God, I hated seeing him like this!

  “Where can we go?” I wiped the water from my eyes. That silly, hesitant girl version of me was burned away. The anger in my voice was unmistakable. My knuckles went white from squeezing the gun handle so tightly.

  “Okay, okay!” Eyes squinting, Shawn pinched the bridge of his nose to think. Finally opening his eyes, he wore a hesitant expression but told me anyways. “I know a guy who should have the necessary tools to get the bullets out and clean him up.”

  “Does he run a private clinic or something?”

  “No. Well, kinda but not exactly.”

  “You better not be fucking with us, Shawn!”

  “I’m not! I p-p-promise!” Shawn stammered, rolling his hands then added, “He’s just kind of a weird guy, but he knows what he’s doing, and for the right amount of money, he won’t ask any questions.”

  “Give me your cell phone,” I said, pushing back another wave of tears and aiming the gun back at him. “Unlocked.”

  “Here!” He handed it to me. “Please. Just put that thing away!”

  “When we leave you I’m going to give this phone to some very bad men. If this place turns out to be bullshit or if we get busted by the cops, I promise you they will come visit you or--” I browsed his text messages until I found I found a few from his wife. “—Sherry. Do you understand?”

  He nodded emphatically, obviously terrified of me.

  I climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition over. I didn’t enjoy the barbwire in my tone, but I understood how necessary it was now. In our short time together, I’d begun to see how Remy forged me into something truly meant for this outlaw world. I thought back to that dark version of myself in that dream and wasn’t afraid of her anymore.

  Glancing in my rearview, I could see Remy barely conscious and clinging desperately to life. His willpower filled me with a steely reserve. Remy would survive—he had to. I felt it in my bones. I knew he was too tough for even death.

  The road before us was straight and empty, so I afforded myself an extended blink as I drove. In the extra second that my eyes were closed, I saw the Star I had once been, the one who went to college and whined about having to do menial chores, was now gone. She was just smoke locked away in one of the forgotten rooms in my dream.

  Speeding along those back roads with a trail of bodies in our wake, I was now the shadow version of myself who used to frighten me.

  I didn’t have to fall asleep to know that none of the doors in that long hallway of possibilities would ever open again, save the one at the very end. And when that door opened, the room would glow brilliantly with blood and flowers.

  And it was Remy’s wide-armed embrace that I would crash into.

  I opened my eyes. A new dawn’s sun climbed over the distant horizon. Great and horrible things were in store for us when Remy was healed.

  It was our time now.

  Part Three

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Star

  “The patient is stable,” Doc—as he’d introduced himself when Shawn the EMT and I carried Remy inside—reported as he peeled off his latex gloves and tossed them directly onto a small pile of indistinct refuse in the large, ominous metal incinerator built into one of the walls. “He will need several more weeks of bed rest and will be sore for a few months. Also, the patient seemed upset, so I was forced to sedate him. Heavily.”

  “Yeah, well—” I almost chuckled at the thought. Who wouldn’t be pissed off if he was nearly killed by bikers. Or by anyone for that matter. “—he was shot four times.”

  “Five! One glanced off the patient’s face.” Doc tapped rapidly at his cheek. He was an intense, gaunt man with a ghostly pale complexion. Balding with thick glasses, he was the type of man you’d expect to see working at a funeral parlor. “The patient should avoid extraneous activity of any kind for at least a month or two.”

  “I’ll certainly have my work cut out for me.” I didn’t care about the work as long as Remy made it. I’d probably regret it, but I couldn’t help but ask, “Are you really a doctor?”

  To say this place was unorthodox would have been the equivalent of calling the Statue of Liberty a lawn ornament. We were in the basement of Hall’s Taxidermy, the creepiest place I’d ever seen in my entire life. I forced Shawn to reassure me several times that we’d arrived at the correct place before I let him leave.

  “Does it matter?” Doc asked in an unnerving skepticism. His insomniac eyes were sunken and encased in loose, purple skin. Although I was sure his question was rhetorical, he regarded me expectantly as he took his glasses off and thumbed away a few errant droplets of Remy’s blood from the lenses.

  A chill tore up my spine.

  With sharp, pronounced features, this man could’ve stepped directly out of a horror film. “I was able to remove all the bullets from the patient. They are in the jar on the shelf. You will be taking them when you leave.” He cleaned his hands and pointed to a dimly lit screw-top glass mason jar between a box of various furs and what looked like a milk crate of animal jaws.

  Although the operating area was well lit, he saw me struggling in the low periphery light of the rest of the room. He flicked the switch on another fluorescent bulb so that I might see it better. I wish he hadn’t. My eyes hesitantly flitted around the room. It was large enough to be both a work spac
e and a storage area. The animals down here were in various states of either disrepair or dismemberment, and each was hideously contorted with anguish, fear, or fury.

  I shivered. This place couldn’t be any creepier.

  There was no fucking way that people actually bought these freaky stuffed animals, so Doc must’ve made his real money by mending outlaws or disposing of bodies. This place looked like it had been around for quite a while, which was probably a testament to the gaunt man’s ruthless efficiency.

  “I stemmed the internal bleeding as well,” Doc said, jerking me back to reality. “The shooter managed to miss most of the patient’s major organs. Though not due to lack of trying. I will still need to clean and fully close the wounds. I will require him to stay here another day.”

  “Another day...,” I repeated distantly to myself as I squeezed Remy’s hand, checking him over. Remy was laid out, bare to the waist, on a crimson-stained, steel table. His breathing and pulse rate were surprisingly strong despite all the wounds. For as beaten up as he looked right then, I knew it would somehow take far more than this to actually kill Remy Daniels.

  He would be back on his feet in no time. At least that’s what I’d drilled into my head like a mantra on the way over here.

  Truth was, I had never been more scared in my life. Even when I was on the verge of being raped or killed, I could emotionally handle it, at least, eventually. But this….

  This was a different kind of fear entirely—that middle-of-the-night phone call kind of fear. It had felt like there was a howling pit in my stomach and my skin was trying to tear itself from my bones and run away without me.

  It was that not-knowing that was killing me.

  “My fee is ten thousand,” Doc announced. “Cash.”

  “What?" I knew it was going to be expensive, but ten thousand dollars was insane! Where the hell were we going to come up with that?

  “Nonnegotiable. I will need it tomorrow by six in the evening. No loose ends.” Doc was completely unfazed by my shock.