“Right. I’ll be there in a bit.”
Silence followed, alerting her he’d hung up on her, not leaving her room to argue.
“Ass.” Lace shook her head, trying not to smile. She was fond of Hank or as the others knew him─Steel. He never took no for an answer when it came to her.
“Miss Beck?”
A male’s voice pulled her back to reality, forcing her to look up at the doctor hovering over her. His white coat had the name DeMedici on it.
“Yeah, that’s me.” Lace struggled to her feet once more, sticking out her hand.
The doctor’s grip was firm as he took Lace’s in return. “Stephen DeMedici. I’m Miss Simpson’s doctor.”
“How is she?” Lace gave a pump of the hand, quickly releasing it.
“Here. Take a seat.” He motioned Lace back to chairs.
Lace’s stomach sank as trepidation curled itself around her. Trying to swallow, she shook her head. “Not to be rude, doctor, but I’ve been sitting for nearly five hours. How is Crissy? Just tell me, please.”
Nodding, Dr. DeMedici shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “She’s not out of the woods yet. She’s suffered a great deal of damage. Her jaw wasn’t only broken in two places, but we’ve had to wire it shut, along with giving her forty-five internal stitches along the jaw line and over eighty external. The head trauma alone was enough to kill her. We’ve reduced some of the pressure from the brain swelling, but there’s a chance in the next forty-eight hours she could have seizures or more swelling. Her left orbital cheekbone was cracked as well. She’s got three broken ribs and we’ve managed to seal up the hole in her lung. Now, it’s a waiting game. The next two days are going to be crucial on whether she pulls out of this or not.”
Absently rubbing her left arm, Lace took a couple of steps back, her brow furrowing with a shake of her head. “Crissy.” Lace cleared her throat, taking in a deep breath. Pausing for a moment, she gathered up her emotions, compartmentalizing them. “Crissy is tough. If anyone can pull out of it, it’ll be her. I can guarantee that.”
“I’m sure she will, Miss Beck.” The doctor smiled at her, giving a small nod before he headed toward the door. Stopping at the entrance, he looked back at Lace. “I’ll let you know when you can go in and see her. It’ll be a couple of hours until she can come out of the recovery room.”
“Thank you.” Lace nodded, running her fingers through her short hair. Sinking back into a chair, she stretched out her legs just as Viper wandered back into the room.
“Was that the doctor?”
“Yeah.” Nodding, Lace laid her head onto her cupped hand. “The next two days will be touch and go for Stellar.”
“Guess you’ll be living here then, huh?”
Lace pursed her lips, giving a small shake of her head. “No reason to. They’re going to let me see her in a couple of hours. But it’s sounding like they don’t even expect her to wake up for a couple of days.”
Curby wandered in as Lace spoke, flopping down next to her. “We can all take shifts staying with Stellar to make sure she’s protected.”
“Not a bad idea.” Lace clicked her tongue ring against her teeth in thought.
“I’ll take first shift.” Flames yawned, following in Gipsy.
“How about you ladies eat first?”
Lace’s head snapped up, unable to hide the smile that formed. “Steel,” his name was breathed out in relief as the girls moved to reveal him in the door way.
Two prospects were standing behind Steel, each having several signature brown bags in their hands. It was the brown cup in Steel’s that drew her attention though. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
Steel laughed while motioning to his prospects to hand out the food in the bags. “I come bearing food for the weary. And a coffee for you.”
She gladly took the offered cup, standing up to kiss Steel on the cheek. “Thank you so much. You didn’t have to do this.”
“White chocolate peppermint mocha, right?” Steel flashed a grin at her.
“God, yes. You ran all over town for this stuff?”
“Pfft, that’s what prospects are for. I focused on your coffee rather than taking a chance on a prospect landing in the hospital because he messed it up.”
Viper stuck out her bottom lip, pouting. “Where’s my coffee?”
A single eyebrow rose as Steel trained his blue-green eyes on her. “You’re not queen bitch, Viper. Sorry.”
Lace tried to suppress her laughter, but it didn’t work. Viper’s wounded facial expression was too much. They all needed the distraction from the pain before them, and this was providing the perfect amount.
“The fries smell heavenly about right now.” Lace’s stomach growled in agreement.
Steel reached out and grabbed a cup of fries. “Let’s go for a stroll?”
“Yeah, let’s.” Lace took a sip of her coffee and sighed, letting her eyes roll up. “Oh. My. God.” Each word was emphasized by a moan. “This is the best damn coffee. I think I just had a mouthgasm.”
Steel shook his head while chuckling. “Is that all it takes?”
Lace elbowed him lightly in jest, snatching a fry from the red cup they were in. “Right now? Fuck yeah. Damn, these are still hot. How the hell did you manage that?”
“See the prospects sweating? They rode with the heater on the whole time to keep them hot.”
“You’re so evil, H.”
“Damn good at it too.”
“Yes,” Lace agreed. “Yes, you are.”
“No need to put them in a shallow grave yet.” Steel winked at her. “They’re good kids. But on a serious note, what’s going on, Tilly?”
Walking down the hallway, Lace focused on munching a few fries before she spoke. Her head was nothing more than a jumbled mess of emotions and urges to kill. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Let’s start with Rev. Have you called him yet?”
“Meh,” Lace muttered, focusing on the top of her plastic coffee cup. “Flames called Jury to tell him we were attacked, and that I’d call Reverend later with details.” Jury was Santa Muerte’s secretary, and it was vital her own secretary, who was currently Flames, kept in touch with the others in the surrounding clubs and chapters to let them know the goings on. “She called Rusty in your crew and Star in Nytemare’s, though they were with me when I got the call.”
“The call?” Steel questioned.
Lace took another drink of the caffeinated ambrosia, motioning for her and Steel to sit down on a couch in an empty room they wandered into. “This was the work of the Warriors. We have an ol’lady that was being beaten pretty bad and happens to be a drug addict.”
“Okay?” Steel looked confused, rubbing the top of his bald head. “They wouldn’t attack just because of that, Tilly.”
“It’s Chico’s ol’lady, H. I didn’t know until she was in the car. But still,” Lace leaned back into the couch, index finger tapping the plastic lid as she met Steel’s gaze. “She has to know something or have something of theirs. They sent Cobra to rough up the girls. When I got to Domino, there were at least ten or fifteen bikes taking off. The place is trashed. It’ll take weeks to fix it, I’ve got the clubhouse in the back with apartments for the girls. It’s not safe there now.”
“Do you know what happened, other than it was the Warriors?”
Lace shook her head, looking up at Steel with a sigh. “I have to go talk to Durty and see what the hell happened.”
“Want me to go with you?”
Steel’s hand was warm in hers as he took it in his own. The pad of her thumb caressed the top of his hand. “Please?”
“C’mon. We need answers.” He tugged her to her feet and let go of her hand. “Maybe you need to consider another spot to put the club?”
“I like it where it’s at, H. It’s outside city limits, away from the PD. At least I’ve got friends in the sheriff’s department who try and keep shit o
n the low.”
“I understand that. Why don’t you use our clubhouse until you figure it out?”
Lace leaned into Steel as he wrapped his arm around her waist, guiding her down the hall toward Durty’s room. “I might take you up on that offer. I’ve got church coming up and─” Lace stopped dead in her tracks, eyes squeezing shut. “Shit!” Her foot stomped as she yelled, pinching the bridge of her nose. “We’ve got Disco Nights coming up at Domino. What the fuck am I going to do?”
“Hey.” Steel placed a finger under her chin, lifting her head. “You’re not alone in this. You’ve got my guys, you’ve got Revelations, and Rev’s guys. As soon as your insurance claim is made, I’ll loan you the money to fix it. When you get your money, pay me back.”
“I can’t let you do that, H.” Lace’s eyes watered, trying to look away from Steel. She wasn’t used to people helping her out. Everything she ever got, she got on her own.
“This is club shit, Chantilly. Not a hand out. Family. Besides, when it comes down to it, we only have one another. Am I wrong?”
Lace grimaced as he used her full name. “I know. You’re right, as always.”
A shocked look swept over his face, lifting his hand to cup his left ear. “Say that again in my good ear.”
“Kiss my ass?”
Steel snickered, opening the door to Durty’s room, ushering her inside.
Lace touched his cheek briefly as she stepped past him, moving over to the bed that her Road Captain was laying in. “Hey there, slugger.”
Durty rolled her brown eyes and snorted, though groaned and wrapped an arm around her mid-section. “I hate having bruised ribs. How’s Stellar?”
Lace reached out and brushed Durty’s hair away from her face. “She’s not doing so well. We’ll know more in a couple of days. What the hell happened?”
Lace’s stomach plummeted as Durty recanted the events that transpired that afternoon, holding her tears at bay, for now. She had to be the president of her club, not a friend. Emotions were unacceptable now and not privy to the conversation.
Taking a hold of Durty’s hand, Lace gave it a small squeeze. “You did everything right. Played into Cobra’s taunting, but anyone would’ve done it. We’ll talk more tomorrow, get some rest, okay?”
“I will. Oh,” Durty paused, a quick glance at Steel then back to Lace.
“I don’t keep secrets from him, you know that.”
Durty nodded, wincing as she tried to shift herself in the bed. “Bronson was here. He questioned Fenix and me. All I told him was they were masked and took the money in the register, that it was a robbery.”
“He said he was going to get your statement. Robbery is what I told him too. Go to sleep now.”
Lace hugged Durty and stepped out of the room with Steel right behind her.
“You need more security, Tilly. I mean it.”
“I know.”
“Don’t take this wrong, but you guys are still women. You have limitations. I know you’re Miss Billy-Bad-Ass, but the others aren’t.”
Hazel eyes rolled as she placed her hands on her hips. “I know, H. Trust me. I’ll be putting it up for vote.”
“Jesus, Tilly! This shouldn’t be put up for a fucking vote. This is a matter of life or death, you do not need a vote. Or do I need to go to your Sergeant-at-Arms and get her to overrule your damn ass?”
Lace recoiled at his venomous tone and Steel’s hard gaze as he snapped at her, not used to him being so protective. “I don’t need you to remind me what my duties are, Steel.” She used his road name to make a point. “I tend to talk to my girls.”
“Talk all you want. Christ. Talk until you’re blue in the face for all I care. But get more guys at the bar and to help you at Battleground. The problem of the Warriors isn’t going to go away, T. Not if you have that girl. They sent over ten guys, for fuck’s sake.” He sighed, shifting his weight. Lifting his hand, he scratched at his whiskers before he met her gaze once more. “You want to vote? Then vote on what you’re going to do to handle this situation. But right now, your main priority is the safety of your girls.”
“Yes, daddy.” Lace grumped, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Good, now I want to talk to you about something that you can put up for vote.”
Chapter 13
Too Close
Sleep—totally overrated.
Or so Durty thought as she stared at the clock. The minutes ticked by into hours, until it was nearly time for her release. It gave her plenty of time to deliberate about what the hell happened. The visit from Lace went way to smooth for her liking. Durty knew Lace well enough to know she was going to be chomping at the bit for retaliation before long. Lace being calm was a miracle or a front, since Steel was with her.
Getting dressed proved to be a bit more difficult with her ribs wrapped, so a knock on the door was welcome. “Come in.”
The door pushed open, revealing a worried looking Sting. Relief washed over his face as his stark blue eyes roamed slowly over her. “I’m not sure if I should hug you or not.”
Durty tried not to laugh, already knowing how much it was going to hurt if she did.
Epic fail.
Wincing as she tried to hold her ribs and laugh, the tingling rush through her wasn’t from the pain, but the hungry way he gazed at her. “Please,” she gasped, waving the palm of her hand in his general direction. She took as big of a breath as she could. “Don’t make me laugh.”
Hs brows pinched as his solid frame stepped further into the white washed room. “I’ll try not to, but laughter is the best medicine.”
“Not when your ribs are bruised, mister. Now be a good boy and untie this damn thing they’ve got me in.” She knew her ass was hanging out the back of the hospital gown she was wearing. Thank God, she had on a good pair of lace panties.
Sting’s eyes darkened at her request, pausing briefly before he stepped toward her. Durty could read the underline desire in them, quickly looking away as he stepped around her.
“But what if I want to be naughty?”
Durty’s breath hitched as the warmth of his calloused fingers at the base of her spine. Her mouth opened, but only a breathless whimper escaped.
His laughter brushed across her bare skin as the ties were undone, exposing all her back, including her bandaged ribs. His voice was just as rough as his hands in her ear as he growled softly, “Will you spank me?”
Saved by a knock once more, Durty silently groaned in protest, feeling Sting’s body up against her own backside. Damn it! Clearing her throat, she grasped for her sweats and t-shirt. “One sec! Getting dressed!”
“That’s fine, Ms. Simons. It’s just me, Deputy Bronson.” The deep voice filtered through the door.
“Shit,” Durty sighed, wriggling as best as she could, out of the gown, not caring if Sting was looking. A quick glance over her shoulder showed he was being respectful and looking away from her, giving her the privacy she needed to get herself together.
A tinge of disappointment filled her as she tugged on the sports bra and t-shirt, followed by the sweats. “Alright, come in, Bronson.”
“Here,” Sting stuck out his hand, taking her own. “Let me help you back on the bed.”
“Thank you.” Durty shifted herself up and onto the bed, just as Bronson opened the door.
“Sorry, didn’t realize you had a guest.” The deputy looked between Durty and Sting. “I need to get a full statement from you, Ms. Simons.”
“You can call me Durty, Bronson. Geeze. And,” she paused, looking directly at the older man. “You got my statement last night.”
“You were half out of it, Durty. I need you to go over once more, what happened.”
Sting moved over to an empty chair, slouching down into it, crossing his arms over his chest. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
Durty’s brows shot up as she steeled a glance at Sting. “Nuhuh. You don’t get to scold me.” Her voice
was firm, looking back over to Bronson. “I’ve got nothing else to say.”
Bronson rested his arms against the equipment hanging from his utility belt, sighing. “I’m not an idiot, Durty. I’ve known you girls for way too long. Nothing is as simple as a robbery. Let me help you out.”
“I already told you, Jack,” Durty groaned, rubbing the heel of her hands into her eyes. Dropping them onto her lap, she trained her brown eyes on the deputy’s. “Stellar, Fenix, and I were getting the bar ready for opening. We had the door unlocked for one of the new girls to get there and our new bouncer. We weren’t expecting to get jumped.”
“How many guys again?”
Durty chanced a glance at Sting, who was staring at her with a brow raised up. Rolling her eyes, she turned her attention back to Bronson. “Three.”
“Three,” Bronson questioned, his voice hinting disbelief.
“Three?” Sting scoffed, quickly coughing.
Shooting a glare in his direction, she answered Bronson. “Yes, three. The really big one beat the shit out of Stellar.” Shaking her head, she looked back to the older man. “Look, I don’t remember much. I got knocked out pretty quick into their little fun-fest. All I remember before the guy decided to go all Tyson on me, was screaming for Stellar to call the cops.”
Bronson hung his head while nodding. Clucking his tongue, his shoulders drooped, moving to scratch at his chin. “Right. Okay. No idea what they looked like? No tattoos? Height? Weight? Anything?”
“They were in masks and wore gloves.”
Bronson’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Durty, finally snorting. “I find it very hard to believe you saw nothing, Tamra, Durty, whatever you want to be called. I’ve known you since you were a kid, you’ve always been way too observant for your own damn good. So, just wearing masks and gloves? No. I don’t think so.”
Durty grimaced as Bronson let out a little of her history she would’ve preferred to be left buried. She hadn’t really gone into her past with Sting, and here Bronson was, about to give it all away. “Look, I don’t remember anything─”
Policy of Truth (Sacred Heart Continuum Series Book 1) Page 8
