by Brook Wilder
I wanted to tell him I was falling in love with him, both parts of him.
But in my mind, I kept replaying the scene that had started this cascade of events, seeing the shock on his face right before he fell to that concrete floor.
By the time I stepped out into the waiting room, the number of people present had risen considerably. There were male and female bikers milling around, the mood somber as they talked quietly with each other. Some were drinking coffee, others stared at their feet, but it was clear to me that everyone was worried about Harrison.
And he thought no one cared about him.
“Hey,” Kristina said as she approached me, followed by a red-eyed Rivet. “You okay?”
“No,” I said quietly, wrapping my arms around my waist. “I’m not. Any word?”
Rivet shook her head. “No, no word.”
The last update we received was that Harrison was in emergency surgery and they were doing all they could to save him. The nurse cautioned us that his injury was severe, and he had lost a lot of blood. All the odds are stacked against him.
I was the reason he was lying on that table, fighting for his life. It disgusted me.
Kristina reached out and touched my shoulder, her own hand trembling. “He’s tough, the toughest guy I have ever met. He will pull through. He’s got a lot to live for now.”
A tear rolled down my cheek and I wiped it away angrily. “What if he doesn’t? It’s all my fault.”
“Oh, no it’s not,” Kristina said quickly, pulling me into her arms. “Don’t even think like that. It’s my fault for not going after your father when you asked, and if he doesn’t make it, I will shoulder that blame. Not you. Crankshaft did what he did because he knew he had no other option.”
I pulled out of her embrace, not believing her. I was the reason he had lowered his guns. If I hadn’t gone after my father, Harrison would be standing right here, next to me.
I had caused this.
Kristina didn’t say anything as I pushed past her and exited the waiting room, feeling suddenly constricted, unable to breathe. Gasping, I found an alcove where I could slide down onto the floor, drawing my legs up to my chest. The tears came in earnest now, the flood of emotions I had tried to keep in check too much for me to keep in any longer. I needed Harrison to pull through. I needed his gruff demeanor, his arms around me holding me tight.
Another person entered the small alcove and slid down the opposite wall, mimicking my sitting position.
It was Chains. “You okay?”
I wiped the tears from my face, staring at the Jester’s president. His face was haggard and pinched, looking nothing like the man who had barked out orders just an hour ago. “No, I’m not.”
He sighed. “Yeah me neither. Any word?”
I shook my head, staring at the wall to my right. “No. When will they tell us something?”
“I don’t know,” he answered, his voice like gravel. “But I can’t fucking stand the waiting. Shit.”
I echoed his sentiment in my tortured heart. “I guess the longer they are gone, the better the odds for him.”
“I hope so,” Chains replied. “Sabrina, we know where your father is. Machine Gun and a few others are on their way to rescue him.”
My eyes flew back to his face, shock vibrating through my body. “You found my father?”
“Not yet,” he cautioned. “But I think we will shortly. The cartel member we took spilled the location after a little convincing. Luckily, he’s not over the border, and based on what he told us, it won’t be hard to break in and rescue him.”
My relief was palpable, and I didn’t know what to say. My father was alive and was about to be rescued.
“I almost called here to get you to go with them,” Chains said softly. “But I think your heart is at this hospital right now.”
I nodded, my throat closing up again. I couldn’t leave without knowing the outcome of Harrison’s surgery or if he was going to make it through the night. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Chains answered. “But we will get your father and then collect your mother, too. I need for them to go missing for a few days until we assess the retaliation. There’s a chance we might have to get the cops involved and place them in some sort of witness protection.”
I thought about my mom and how she would be freaking out when a group of bikers showed up at the house. I had no way of contacting her, my phone long gone, but hopefully when she saw my father, it would all be okay. “I will want to see them after this is done.”
“Yeah, I figured,” Chains said, stretching his legs in front of him. “We will make that happen when you are ready.”
I turned away so he wouldn’t see the glimmer of tears, trying to blink them back. While I was grateful for what the club was doing for me, I couldn’t concentrate on anything but Harrison.
My reunion with my parents would have to wait.
***
Two hours later, the waiting room door finally opened, and a tired looking doctor stepped in, his paper cap in his hands. His eyes widened as he saw the bikers in the room. “I take it you are all here for Mr. Parker?”
I stood along with Chains.
“Yeah,” Chains said, his face tight with concern. “We all are.”
“Alright then,” the doctor answered, clearing his throat. “Mr. Parker is in intensive care right now. The bullet made a messy path in his chest and lodged in the upper portion of his lung. We were able to remove it and repair the artery it nicked. He’s lost a lot of blood, so we are in the process of replacing it, and the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours will be critical to whether he survives. I do have to warn you, he arrested on the table twice, so there might be some neurological concerns we won’t be able to assess until we wake him up.”
My knees buckled and Chains reached out, grabbing me before I fell to the floor. I steadied myself in his grip, but he didn’t let go, holding me at his side.
“Can we see him?”
“One at a time,” the doctor said. “Mr. Parker is very critical. He doesn’t need any stress so I would suggest limiting the visitation for tonight. In the morning we can assess it further. Who wants to go first?”
Chains pushed me forward. “Sabrina should be first.”
I looked back at the Jester president gratefully, knowing he could have easily taken the first visit. He had known Harrison a lot longer than I had, and their friendship was far deeper than anything I had with him. “Thank you.”
He straightened his shoulders. “Just let him know we are all behind him.”
I nodded and the doctor moved to the side to let me out of the waiting room, falling in step with me as he guided me to the intensive care unit. There I was led to a glass room; the beeping machines a distraction for what really lay there.
It wasn’t even human. There were tubes and lines snaking out his body, his entire chest swaddled with white bandages. He still looked pale, the steady beat of his heart tracing out on the monitor above his head.
“He’s stable,” the doctor said softly, clasping his hands in front of him. “We’ve given him eight units of blood so far and he’s on medication to keep his heart in a steady rhythm throughout the night as a precaution. The swelling will go down in a day or two, and as soon as we are sure he’s out of the woods, we will start waking him up and removing some of the machines.”
“Can I touch him?” I asked hesitantly, worried I might interrupt one of those machines keeping him alive.
“Of course,” the doctor said. “You can talk to him, too. Just keep your voice low and the lights dimmed for now. I’ll be back in about ten minutes to get you.”
Ten minutes. That seemed like a lifetime as I approached the bed, biting my lower lip. It was hard to believe this was Harrison, the same Harrison who had pulled me out of my comfort zone and given me something very precious in return.
This was the same Harrison who thought he was invincible, that a mere bullet was just going to slow
him down.
He wasn’t as invincible as he thought. Reaching out, I touched his swollen hand, mindful of the wires and tubes running along his arm. “Hey Harrison,” I said, my voice low. “It’s Sabrina. I just want to let you know I’m not going anywhere until you tell me to, so I need for you to get better in a hurry, alright?”
There was no answer, no fluttering of his eyes or increased heartbeat to tell me he had heard me. It was hard, really hard, to look at him in this way and wonder if he was going to pull through.
He had to pull through.
Chapter 20
Harrison
“Fuck! Just rip it off, will you? That peeling shit is pulling off my skin.”
The nurse frowned at me, her fingers still on the bandage. “There’s no need to curse at me, Mr. Parker. I’m just trying to eliminate some of these bandages or would you rather me scrub them off later with your bath?”
I glowered at her and she gave it right back to me before ripping off the bandage, causing me to wince at the sudden pain. “Thank you,” I forced out.
She patted my arm before throwing the bandage in the trash beside the bed. “You’re welcome. If you continue to be nice to me, I might sneak in an extra ice cream at suppertime.”
I grumbled but didn’t respond as she stepped back out of the room, hating the fact that she knew my weakness. The food was the only thing to look forward to lately and even that was a stretch.
Leaning my head back against the pillow, I stared at the ceiling above me, counting the tiles in sync with the steady beat of my heart on the monitor. It had been two days since I woke from a deep sleep, finding myself tied to a bed and pumped full of all kinds of shit. The nurse and doctor both had told me about the extent of my injury, how close I came to kicking the bucket, and what it had taken to bring me to this point.
All I had asked was that they remove the restraints around my wrists. They had done so and slowly I learned about the dull pain in my chest, the pull of the stitches that ran up the right side of me under the bandage. The small angry wound that had been uncovered for the first time today didn’t look like much, but I did feel like I had been hit by a train and then run over again, my body weak and out of sorts.
It seemed death had once again lost.
Though I knew I was nowhere near ready to leave, I was itching to get out of the hospital bed and move on, not particularly enjoying that someone was wiping my ass and sponge bathing me. I wasn’t used to relying on others and every time I couldn’t do something, I felt fucking helpless.
It was a hard thing to push past.
“There he is! Look, honey, he’s even a shade darker than the last time we saw him.”
I grinned as Chains and Widow Maker walked into the room, Widow Maker dumping a handful of papers onto the bedside table. “Alright. I guess I will have to stop calling him vamp.”
“You’re damn right you are,” I answered, feeling better now that they were here. “But if we need another enforcer, my damn nurse could do that shit with her eyes closed.”
Widow Maker laughed. “I hope you haven’t pissed her off like the last one. They are going to kick you out of here if you don’t stop terrorizing the nurses.”
“I think we get along alright,” I said, thinking of her remark just a few minutes ago. “What’s that? My will?”
Widow Maker grinned, laying her hand on the paper. “These are all the accounts on the SIM card from the cartel. We have been going through them with Aisha and her team.”
I eyed the stack. “Are you gonna torture me by reading them to me?”
“Of course,” Chains added with a wry smile. “That’s how we are gonna get your ass out of that bed.”
I shook my head, keeping my laughter inside. Every time I laughed, it pulled the wound tighter and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. “I don’t need any more torture. Tell me something good.”
“Well,” Widow Maker said, leaning against the table. “The cops are definitely our friends right now. Currently they are busy shutting down the accounts and confiscating the funds to build their case against the cartel. As much as it pained me to give them the information, I knew the cartel would just love to know the cops and the FBI were on their trail again.”
“Plus, they seized some of their property around Castillo,” Chains finished with a grin. “No more hideouts to raid.”
“What are we going to fucking do now?” I asked, frowning. I liked raiding the hideouts and killing the fuckers.
“Well, these accounts are going to have to be traced back to their original source,” Widow Maker said after a moment. “Both on the computer and physically, though its gonna be a while before we can turn you loose, Crankshaft.”
“Yeah, I know,” I sighed. This injury was far different than my last, and at best, I was looking at another week in the hospital. The doctor had already told me I had to take it easy once I was discharged, with no sudden movements or heavy lifting for at least two more weeks while the stitches continued to heal on my nicked artery. “I guess I will be doing desk work.”
“Or taking a break,” Chains supplied. “You’ve been working your ass off for months, man. Take a vacation, buy a damn apartment, and settle down.”
I arched a brow. “Are you kicking me out of my rooms?”
“Yes, we are,” Widow Maker cut in, glancing at her husband for confirmation. “You need to build something outside of this club, Harrison. Something that’s going to be your life. This near death experience should be enough for you to realize that.”
I had. As much as I hated to admit it to them, I had been hanging onto the club like a lifeline, content to not have a place to go back to or anyone to care about me.
But one person had changed all that and now I was hoping my life would take that shift like they were talking about. “Where is she?”
Widow Maker bit her lip. “She’s with her parents. We have them in protective custody until Aisha can find them a witness protection program. I hope you know she stayed in this room every night until she was sure you were going to pull through. I couldn’t get her to leave your side, not even for her reunion with her parents.”
My throat tightened and I swallowed the emotion there. “I had to do it. I had to put down my guns.”
Chains cleared his throat. “Yeah, man, we know. Any of us would have done the same thing. I’m just glad I walked in in time to shoot that fucker in the head. I’m just sorry I wasn’t there earlier.”
“At least you found her,” Widow Maker added, sliding her hand into her husband’s. “Sabrina was unharmed. You saved her life and her father’s. You completed the mission, Crankshaft. Now it’s time for you to find your happiness with someone.”
That made me feel like I had won the damn lottery. Knowing Sabrina was safe, and I had given her back her father was the one missing piece in what I had been charged to do in the first place. “At least I could give her that,” I forced out.
“You gave me a lot more.”
I turned to see Sabrina’s form in the doorway, a gentle smile on her face. All the breath left my lungs as I stared at her, drinking in the sight of her, my eyes traveling down and then freezing on the vest she was wearing. “What the hell?”
“Our cue to leave, babe,” Chains was saying, ushering his wife to the door. “Remember, Crankshaft, you’ve got to remain calm and not think about committing any murders for at least a month.”
Widow Maker paused in the doorway, her gaze on me. “And if you break her heart, I will break your legs. See y’all later.”
I ground out my jaw, forcing my breathing to slow as the two escaped the room, leaving just me and Sabrina staring at one another.
“Care to explain that?” I asked tightly, not believing what I was seeing. This couldn’t be happening.
She couldn’t be wearing a vest.
She came to the bedside, and for a moment I thought she was going to grab my hand before she pulled back, wrapping her arms around her waist instead. “I’m pro
specting the Bitches.”
Shit. That wasn’t what I wanted to hear. “Why?”
Sabrina cocked her head to the side, a smile playing on her lips. “Well, if I recall, a tough enforcer offered me a position a few weeks ago. I just decided to take him up on the offer.”
Damn. She had me there. “Well that was before I had sense about me. Unjoin. It’s not safe for you.” That and I wouldn’t be able to even function knowing she was riding in the pack, a target like the rest of us. That wasn’t Sabrina.
Her smile grew wider. “Don’t worry. I’m not going out on raids or anything. I will be in the background, messing around in people’s computers and stuff. Chains says I have some real potential to help y’all and I am learning so much about the clubs. Besides, I’m waiting for you to show me how to properly shoot a gun.”