Chasing Claire (Hells Saints Motorcycle Club)

by Marinaro, Paula

  Prosper narrowed his eyes, rubbed his hand over his chin, and sighed.

  Then he looked at the doctor.

  “What’s in the cooler?”

  “Type A negative plasma,” the doctor answered as if he were used to being questioned.

  Prosper nodded. “Open it and the bag.”

  The doctor turned to Gianni. Prosper saw that hesitation and didn’t like it. He addressed Gianni, with a hard challenge written all over his face.

  “You got a problem with that?” Prosper punched out the words.

  Gianni stood for a minute and looked Prosper in the eye. I felt a deep fear flood me. I was afraid that Prosper was not gonna play nice, and that Gianni was going to take his ball and go home.

  “I got no problem, but be careful, my friend. I understand this is your family that we are talking about, and I understand family. But I am here on request, to offer my services. I didn’t come knocking on anyone’s closed door. If these services are no longer required, we can just as easily leave,” Gianni spoke with deadly calm.

  Dolly made a strangled cry next to me. Prosper’s gaze fell on her. Then he looked straight at me.

  “Please, Prosper,” I whispered.

  Prosper hesitated a moment longer, then he turned to Gianni.

  “I understand why you’re here, and who brought you here. And I’ll be dealing with that shit later on.” He paused then and looked straight at Dolly. “Right now, though, I’m man enough to admit that we can probably use the help that your doctor, here, can provide. But, one of my own just got jumped in the goddamn cemetery with his mother at his side, and until he can tell me exactly what the hell happened, I am going to do what I need to do to keep this club and the rest of my family safe. So invited or not, doctor or not, friend or not, I’m still going to look in those fucking bags before I let you anywhere near Reno.”

  Gianni gave a barely perceptible nod. “I understand.” Then he turned to his doctor. “Open them.”

  Prosper quickly inspected the bags, then nodded to the clinic.

  “Come with me. I got my boy, Jules, working on Reno now. Not sure how he’s going to handle interference.”

  Gianni nodded and the three of them headed toward the door of the clinic while Dolly led the way.

  I turned to Pinky and Glory and noticed for the first time that they had a fresh pot of coffee and a tray of sandwiches in their hands. The thought of eating made me sick, but I knew I was going to need the coffee.

  “He’s alive,” I said. My throat felt jagged and raw from the pressure of holding in screams of despair and fear.

  “And he’s gonna stay that way, honey.” My friend wrapped her arms around me.

  Then the three of us followed the men into the building.

  CHAPTER 41

  We had been waiting in the front room of the clinic for what seemed liked days, but really it was just a few hours.

  And a few hours was long enough.

  Dolly and I sat together on the hard metal chairs. Throughout the afternoon, the brothers drifted in and out in a show of support. Someone was making sure that the coffee was kept fresh, and at one point a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of whiskey had been added to the tray. A constant stream of tobacco smoke and muffled voices drifted in through the open windows.

  The Hells Saints and their families were holding a vigil for one of their own.

  Pinky fussed around Dolly and me like a mother hen. She brought Dolly some clean clothes, but Dolly refused to change.

  “I’ll change when my boy is out of danger,” Dolly had whispered without looking at her.

  I understood her unwillingness to leave for even a moment, but I wished she would go and clean up.

  I really did.

  The sight and smell of Reno’s blood and God-knew-whatever-else all over Dolly like that made me feel ill. I leaned my head against the wall, sighed deeply, and almost gagged on the thick smell of dried gore.

  Gianni had left us intermittently to go do whatever a mob boss did in situations like this, but for the most part, he had endured the hard metal chairs and the loud incessant ticking of the clock, right alongside Dolly and me. His suit jacket was off and the stark white cuffs of his sleeves were rolled up to reveal strong dark forearms. His tie hung from his back pocket and the first two buttons of his shirt were opened.

  I felt Gianni’s eyes on me and turned to look at him. His expression of deep sympathy and understanding touched me. I got up and began to pace the room, back and forth, back and forth. While I kept my eyes fixed mostly on the loudly ticking clock, I also watched the exchanges between Gianni and Dolly.

  Dolly seemed to be barely aware of his presence, but Gianni watched her closely and anticipated her every need. He knew how she took her coffee and made her nibble from the food tray. Once, when Dolly shivered, Gianni got up to close the window. Then when he saw her fan herself, he opened it again. He remained solicitous and kind. There were several times over the course of those hours when Prosper arrived at the clinic door. He had checked in on us, then he had nodded to Gianni, and they left together. Each time the two men came back, there was a new hardness in their eyes and a grim set to their mouths.

  Now the front boss got up and stood in front of Dolly while Prosper waited at the door.

  “Come, Dolly. Your boy is going to be all right. Between that hulking Viking in there and my doctor, nothing is going to happen to him. Let’s go and get you cleaned up.”

  Silence.

  “Dolly? Andiamo, cara mia. Let’s go.”

  Dolly looked confusedly at Gianni, as if she could not believe that he would dare suggest that she should leave her son.

  Even to wipe the grim evidence of arterial blood off her skin.

  Please. Please, listen to him. The thought pounded through my brain.

  Then Gianni nodded his head gently toward me. Dolly, more than a little annoyed with him, followed his gaze. When I felt her look at me, I turned to her and tried to smile in reassurance. But I just couldn’t manage to pull it off. Instead, I just stared dumbly at Dolly, my eyes taking in the horror of her blood-soaked countenance.

  Dolly’s eyes trailed the length of me, assessing. Then she looked down at herself, perhaps seeing for the first time what the rest of us had been looking at for hours.

  Her blood-spotted hands fluttered in her lap like birds. Then they reached for me.

  “Claire, forgive me.”

  I felt immediately contrite.

  In her place, I would have done the same thing. I knew that Dolly was afraid that cleaning off Reno’s blood would be like washing away the man himself. Like tempting fate. She wanted to do nothing to turn the tide against him. I knew she was afraid that the dried crimson stain might be the last thing she would ever have of her only child.

  It was crazy thinking.

  Her thoughts were morbid and gruesome, and filled with faulty reasoning.

  And they made perfect sense to me.

  “I am going to change, honey. I’ll be right back.” When Dolly moved to get up, Gianni was immediately at her side. Prosper had returned once again and stood at the doorway.

  When Reno’s mother walked past me, I reached for her hand. Dolly took both of my hands and covered them tightly with her own. The two of us, the two women who loved Reno with all of their hearts, held on to each other for dear life. We drew what strength and hope we had left, pooled it together and sent that energy out to whatever God was listening. When Dolly bent her head to say the Our Father, I was shocked to hear the strong voices of Gianni and Prosper join ours.

  A strong and sudden sense of doom and panicked guilt struck me.

  “Stay, Dolly. You don’t have to wash up for me,” I whispered to her.

  “No, honey. Gianni’s right. I want to be fresh and clean when I go in to see my boy. I’m just going to go freshen up a bit. Don’t let him die while I’m gone, honey. Promise me.”

  I squeezed her hands tight.

  “I promise.” My eyes shone b
right with tears.

  Then I watched Dolly and Gianni close the door behind them.

  “Willow?” I turned to Prosper.

  “She’s fine. Glory has her. She gave her a bath and put her to bed,” Prosper said softly. “You okay, honey?”

  Three little words.

  I fell apart, just for a moment. I sputtered and heaved and clutched at his shirt. I laid my head on his chest, drinking in the comforting familiar scent of him. While I felt his hands rub my back in small circular motions, I cried a minute’s worth of tears.

  Then I righted myself and looked into his eyes.

  “Is he going to make it, Prosper?” I sniffled.

  “Hell, yeah, he is. No doubt in my mind, honey. No doubt. What’s that saying? Only the good die young? Sons of bitches like Reno, they are too damn mean to die.”

  Prosper tried to smile at me.

  But I didn’t even try to smile back.

  Prosper cleared the deep rasp from his voice before he continued.

  “That boy in there is tough, honey. He’s a fighter. You know that Jules knows his shit. All that time he spent in the field as a medic and all the brothers he’s patched up around here. Reno’s in good hands, honey. And that doc that Gianni brought in, he works on his crew all the time. Best there is. Between the two of them, they’ve got every damn thing they need and more. Besides, Raine is in there helping too. You think for a minute that your sister is going let anything happen to your man? Reno’s going to pull through this.”

  “It’s been a long time; he’s been in there a long time.” I could feel the adrenaline of anxiety shoot through my system and I began to shake.

  Prosper pushed me away from him, but still held me tight and looked into my eyes. Then he said, “That’s a good thing, Claire. In this case, time is on our side.”

  “I don’t understand.” My chest felt like it was going to burst from the fear that I had been keeping at bay.

  “Means he’s fighting. Means he ain’t dead yet.”

  Means he’s fighting. Means he ain’t dead yet.

  I looked at the clock.

  It had been four hours.

  Four hours.

  Four hours and four million years.

  I didn’t know how to feel about time any more.

  CHAPTER 42

  Leaning against the inside of the car door, Reno had watched through dull eyes as his mother fought back the panic. He wanted to call out to her and reassure her that things would be okay. But he didn’t have the strength for it. And really, Reno didn’t know if he was going to make it, he only knew that he wasn’t dead.

  Yet.

  But he also knew that he had lost a lot of blood and that he had been slipping in and out of consciousness. Pain and nausea radiated like hot jagged streaks of white lightning through his body. He fought to stay awake, but as soon as his eyes began to focus, they would close again. Thank God, his mother had somehow managed to take over the steering wheel. As he leaned against the passenger door, Reno had strained to listen for the sound of sirens, or the report of gunshots, or metal meeting metal, or anything at all that would signal danger, but all seemed clear.

  He heaved a sigh of relief before he passed out again.

  Now Reno’s eyes began to focus slowly. His consciousness was a slippery thing that he still could not get a firm hold on. The pain and loss of blood made it impossible for him to tell the difference between reality and fantasy. Reno teetered on the edge of darkness. When he momentarily broke through, he saw two faces hovering over him. Their distorted and disembodied features made him feel like he was looking through a fun house mirror. He tried to lift a hand to reach up to them, but when he did, he felt a sharp burst of pain radiate from his shoulder.

  Then the darkness came again.

  Eventually, sounds began to break through the haze. The distant rumble of pipes, the hum of machinery, the soft cadence of voices weaving in and out of his dulled senses. The colorless ceiling above him faded to black and then came back again. The rectangular lighting directly overhead gave off an eerie yellow glow. He moved his head slightly and experienced an explosion of pain that snaked down his left side. When he inhaled, a fresh burst of something fresh and cool seemed to sharpen his dull senses.

  Shit.

  He was hooked up to an oxygen tank.

  He hoped that he was not in a goddamn hospital.

  A moment of panic surged through his body and he lifted both his wrists. Once he found them free of handcuffs, he relaxed.

  His mother must have listened to him and driven him back to the compound.

  Yeah, he must be in the clinic.

  Thank God, he thought, before he passed out again.

  It was a fight to stay awake, but Reno had been shot before and he knew the drill.

  He won the battle for consciousness for a few minutes, then for longer minutes. Finally, he was able to stay alert long enough to gather his wits about him.

  Slowly he felt his body begin to report in. One limb at a time. He felt the sting of the needle that was buried in the vein in his arm, and the pull of the tape that held it in place.

  So he had an intravenous drip stuck in him.

  Okay. What else?

  He could move his toes and his fingers, but the rest of his body felt sluggish and heavy. He continued to fight though the haze to take further inventory. His shoulder was numb, and his left side throbbed dully.

  Breathing deeply, it took a while for him to verify where he was and to try to remember the details of what had happened. Reno closed his eyes and tried his best to clear his fuzzy mind. Then he opened them again.

  Jesus. The cemetery.

  Motherfuckers.

  They had been at the cemetery.

  That bitch and her boys had tried to take him out at his father’s grave site.

  A horrible thought came to him then, and Reno was filled with a fear so thick he almost gagged on it. That fear threatened to kill him in a way that a dozen bullets could not do.

  Claire.

  Had they gone after Claire too?

  Reno moved to rip the IV out of his arm.

  Just then, the door creaked loudly on its hinges and the thud of leather boots hit the floor. Reno turned his head to see Jules at his bedside.

  “Welcome back, Brother,” Jules said.

  “Claire?” Reno choked out the word.

  “She’s fine, man. Your woman is just on the other side of that door. Prosper sent Crow out to get her as soon as we heard.”

  Reno slumped in relief. Then he almost leaped out of the bed.

  “Ma?”

  “Right out there with your woman. Tough one, she is. Drove you here.”

  Yeah, that’s right. He remembered now. All those goddamn blankets, he had almost died from the heat alone.

  Reno attempted a wry grin, but it turned quickly into a pained grimace.

  “Me?”

  “It might be a while before you can get it up again, Brother.” Jules smirked.

  “Fuck you,” Reno smirked weakly. “Send Claire in here, I’ll get it up right now.”

  “No doubt, you horny bastard. Tubes coming out of you left and right might be a problem, though,” Jules shot back.

  “Seriously, man. I’ve been taking inventory. Fingers, toes, everything seems to move. That mean I’m going to be okay?”

  All of the brothers feared that one shot that would leave them in a chair.

  “Yeah, clean shots, bro. No fragments. You are going to be one sore motherfucker for a while, but you’re going to be okay.” Jules looked pleased with himself.

  “Smug bastard,” Reno said. But relief riddled his voice.

  Jules just smiled.

  “Prosper’s been pacing around the compound madder than a goddamn wet hen. You up for some questions?”

  “Yeah, I’m up to it.” Reno’s head was back on his pillow.

  Jules radioed over to the clubhouse.

  “He’ll be here in a minute. What happened?” Ju
les asked him. “Do you remember anything?”

  Reno searched the recesses of his mind. Bits and pieces flashed before his eyes.

  “The fuckers shot me.”

  “Yeah, the fuckers did. Looks like they used .22s. Stupid motherfuckers should know that it takes more than a .22 to kill a brother.”

  “Three men and a woman. All dead. I shot two of them, then another asshole tried to blow a hole in the windshield, so I ran right through him.”

  Jules nodded. They both turned to see Prosper and Gianni Di Biacco walk through the door.

  “You okay?” Prosper took in all of Reno at once. His hard eyes missed nothing.

  “Better than okay, Boss.”

  Then Reno nodded toward Gianni.

  “What’s he doing here?”

  “It was his doctor who patched you up, right alongside Jules here,” Prosper answered.

  “No shit?” Reno looked at Jules.

  Jules nodded once, but didn’t say anything.

  “How did he know?” Reno spoke to Prosper, but he eyed Gianni suspiciously.

  “You don’t want to know,” Jules muttered under his breath.

  “Oh, yeah I do.” Reno was beginning to feel that dull ache throb through his left side again and the pain was pissing him off.

  “Let me guess, you and the doctor here just happened to be in the goddamn neighborhood?” Reno looked at Gianni now.

  The doctor had entered behind them and said something to Gianni in harsh Italian.

  Gianni put his hand up.

  “I dragged my personal physician away from a family obligation to assist your man in saving your life. Your tone has offended him. And me,” Gianni said calmly, but his eyes glittered.

  Reno didn’t give two shits who he had offended, or who Gianni had dragged from where.

  “Yeah, well I’ll get to the apology part later. But for right now, I want to know what brought you to the compound with a doctor in tow, right in time to save my sorry ass, because I know sure as shit a brother did not call you.”

  There was a pause that went on a little too long.

  “What the fuck, Prosper?” Reno asked again.

  “You’re not gonna believe it,” Jules muttered.