I nod. “Yes.”
He tries the door handle to see if it’ll open. It doesn’t budge, making this all the harder to navigate. “Is he breathing?”
“Yes.” Quite well.
“You’re sure?”
Tilting my head to the side, I give him a really look.
Griggs reads my expression with unfailing accuracy and removes a hand from the window. A moment later he pulls one of those silver blankets out of thin air and shakes it open inside the small space of the backseat.
He hands it over. No words are necessary as I use it to cocoon the baby, careful not to jostle his head while he sleeps.
Once I’ve accomplished the task, the patient firefighter shoots me a pleased smile. “Excellent, ma’am, you did great. Can you do me a favor?” I realize its protocol for them to speak in slow, reassuring words, for those who crumble in these types of conditions. Hate to break it to him, but this is mild compared to what I’ve witnessed in my lifetime. I could go into details, but I won’t. You don’t need those kinds of nightmares. Those are the images that’ll stick with you for months. Even I can’t shake them, and I barely have a soul.
When I don’t reply to his too-comforting, almost condescending words, he offers me a thin zip-tie and scissors, using his palm as a makeshift stand. “I’m guessing you know what you need to do with these?”
Smart man. He’s got reading people down to a science. I’m impressed.
Keeping a hand on the boy’s back for stability, I peer over him to the umbilical cord that’s still attached to his mother. Balancing him on my chest, I slouch a little, so I can use both hands. Doing what needs to be done, I pluck the tie from the man’s upturned palm and secure it around the baby’s former lifeline. Then use the scissors to cut him free. The part connected to Vanessa drapes over her lifeless form. Yet, little dude doesn’t even twitch as I sever his connection to the woman who gave him life. Nor does he show any signs of distress as they use the jaws of life to extract Ryker from the driver seat. It’s loud as hell.
I return the scissors and cradle the baby in my arms. Eyes still closed, his tiny legs curl up to keep warm as I swaddle him with the wannabe blanket. Knowing what’s best, I kiss his miniature forehead and pass him over to the firefighter who cuddles him to his chest right away. A sad smile surfaces as I watch him cart the newborn to safety, leaving me to fend for myself in the back. Not that I need any help.
In the front, they get the door loose, freeing Ryker’s body.
Hovering near the scene, Kade still loses his shit. Fingers are now thrusted in his hair, knuckles snow white, tearing follicles from the root. His cheeks are red, stained with gore and a deluge of tears.
I jerk my shirt down, ignoring the baby goo and blood that covers me, and climb out of the window I entered. Landing on hard ground, I dust my pants off before I engage my poor friend. I may not want to admit it, but Kade is a friend. One that’s hurting deeply.
To be his person, so he doesn’t witness the horrible aftermath alone, I approach the man I swore I would stay away from. It’s funny how things change at times like these. Kade doesn’t deserve a cold shoulder. Not from me. Not when he faces this. His brother lying on the ground on top of a board with three men working to keep him alive. He’s not stable enough to move. Maybe he’ll die here. Perish in front of his younger brother’s very eyes. A light snuffed out before any of us were ready. Isn’t that how the story goes?
“Kade, I’m here.” Not wanting to spook him, I brush two bloodied fingers down his arm, that now hangs loosely at his side.
He gasps on contact and looks down, his manic eyes delving into mine. They tell a tale of horror and heartbreak as they glisten with such pain it pours into me through our connection. Jagged pieces of misery personified slice through my core as they too, join the broken bits of my soul that’re dusted atop the mysterious mountain that lives at the center of me. An elusive place I refuse to visit. Where love and happiness go to die. Where my hopes and dreams have vanished, much like Kade’s stolen youth.
Bottom lip quivering, he glances from me to his brother, then back again, as if he’s afraid to look away from either of us for more than a second.
Giving in to the tiny voice in the back of my mind that sounds an awful lot like Johnny, I reach out and thread my fingers through Kade’s much larger ones. Those blues widen in disbelief as a shudder that has nothing to do with the cold passes through him. He steps closer, our feet fitting together side-by-side. My small breasts rest against his abs, heat to heat. No words are spoken. There’s nothing to say. Not here. Not now. Not for us. Not tonight.
A breath later, that same strong voice drives me to do something I never thought I’d do in a million years. With my opposite hand, I reach up and cup the side of Kade’s scruffy face. Wetness soaks into my skin as he leans into the touch, his eyes slipping closed in pleasure for a fraction of a second. A funny sensation twirls in my gut as I watch the most beautiful man living on this earth take comfort from me. Comfort. God, I didn’t know I could do that. That’d I’d ever want that. The intimacy it evokes. The closeness. It’s against everything I believe in. Everything I’ve built over these years. But I can’t stop myself, even if I wanted to. Anything I can give in this moment, I shall. Any pain I can shoulder, I will. For him.
When Kade’s blues open, a dam forged from the strongest steel breaks inside my chest. With it, a vortex of emotions explode like a supernova so powerful it’s hard to catch my breath. Not wanting him to witness the effects, I do my best to hold an impassive poker face. And fail in spectacular fashion when Kade’s breath catches alongside mine. That’s when I realize… I’m shivering and so is he. Whether it’s the adrenaline drop or something else, I can’t be sure.
Throat working as he swallows, Kade turns his head to kiss my palm that still cups his handsome face. The touch, the heat, it burns there—marking me for eternity like an invisible tattoo upon my flesh.
A tiny gasp bursts from my lips.
My body’s no longer my own.
Not now.
Not like this.
I don’t know what I’m doing. But I can’t stop. I need to be with him. To touch him. To help him… now… today… maybe… No. No. No! I…
Thick fingers thrust into the side of my hair, tearing me from my thoughts. Then…he’s kissing me. Lips claim lips in a brutal, scorching collision that screams of hunger and need. The world fades and all there is, is us. Our hands untwine and Kade drags me to him, lifting me off the ground with arms made of iron. And I let him. Every ounce of my body falls victim to his life-changing assault. The tang of blood mixed with Kade’s heady scent invades my senses as he plunges his tongue into my mouth. And still, I let him. For the first time in years my brain quiets, and I float in a euphoric fog of rightness. Needing to be closer, my arms wrap around his neck, where I hold on wanting this to last forever. Heat pools south as our tongues duel like we haven’t tasted beauty this pure in a millennium. This must be what Heaven feels like.
He groans an intoxicating sound that calls to me. I sink my nails into his shoulders, never wanting to let go. I wanna die here. With him. Now. In this perfect moment, where nothing else matters.
A loud whistle rips through the quiet.
Kade pulls his mouth from mine, his breath labored. Swollen red lips are a sight to behold as he glances over my shoulder.
“Fuck,” he rasps, dropping his forehead to mine, gulping lungfuls of air.
“What?” I shudder as reality floods back in, returning me to the present where we’re both covered in death and his brother’s fighting for life.
Shit.
The adorable man nuzzles his nose to mine and I swear I’ve never felt anything so good. Not ever. “I love you, my Swan. Love you so fuckin’ much.”
I still.
He… said…
Kade sets me on two feet and I stare straight ahead in shock…
I love you, my Swan.
I love you, Rosie.
I love you, Mommy.
I… I…
The man who’s turned my world upside down says something that doesn’t register and kisses my forehead, his touch lingering there far longer than normal. Then he’s gone. Poof. Walking away. And I can’t seem to move, can’t seem to think. To…
I love you, my Swan.
Loves. Me.
I… I don’t deserve love.
Folding my arms over my chest, my mind whirls in a thousand directions as I gaze unseeing into a field of darkness. Wetness I don’t understand, coats my cheeks. It drips off the tip of my chin and runs down the length of my neck until I blink and another waterfall flows. I lick my lips and they ache the sweetest ache. I lay a hand over my heart that can’t stop pounding as fast as a horse can run. Tears must be claiming my face. Silent, soul weeping tears I don’t know what to do with.
At some point a firefighter joins me and I think I respond. I must, because he leaves me to my own devices.
Now’s not the time to feel. Not like this. Not when I have to call the cleaners to remove the bodies from Ryker’s woods. Not when I must take care of Katrina and her girls, to reassure them and deliver the painful news. Weakness can visit later when I have the time to examine what happened here tonight under a Rosie calibrated microscope.
Exhaling, I sweep every uninvited feeling under the rug, square my shoulders, and enter my Zen.
It’s time to handle business. Big didn’t hire me to slack off before the job’s done. Soon enough I’ll be on the road again, where I’m meant to be.
Chapter Fourteen
Kade
Slouching on the uncomfortable chair in Ryker’s ICU room, I attempt to doze in and out. The past twenty-four hours have been hell in a handbasket. I’m exhausted. Haven’t slept, yet. Tried to. But when your brother is literally on his deathbed, in the middle of a multi-hour surgery, you’re not exactly in the right headspace for sleep. Coffee and high-octane Monster Energy drinks have kept me going up until this point. Between the baby’s birth and Ryker’s critical condition, you’d think I’d already hit rock bottom. Wrong. My girl ain’t answering any of my texts or calls. Not a one. Watermelon Tits isn’t speaking to me either… for reasons I’ll explain later. Trust me, I did what I did with her heart in mind. Little good that did me.
After what I confessed to Rosie in the field, she’s ghosted me, full stop, which doesn’t sit well. Not a fuckin’ bit. Truth be told, I’m scared out of my goddamn mind that I went and fucked everything up. I read the situation wrong and let these feelings cloud my judgment. I told a woman I loved her for fucks sake. Kissed her. Had my arms wrapped around that perfect little body. Shit, we were covered in blood and neither of us gave a damn. It was like nothin’ else existed but her in that moment. I’ve never had a kiss like that in my entire life. And trust me, I’ve kissed a ton of bitches in my day.
Pickin’ my phone off the table beside me, I check the messages. Nothing from her and a thousand texts from the brothers demanding updates. They can fuck off to Nowhereland, as far as I’m concerned. I ain’t got the patience to reply to them all. Pops gets the updates when he asks, so he can relay them to the rest of the brotherhood. I’ve got enough on my plate. Not that he don’t. The clubhouse was hit when the cabin was. Two members got hurt, but it wasn’t anything serious.
I lay my cell on my thigh, face up, in case Rosie decides to call while I catch a bit of shuteye.
Hours later, I’m jerked from my sleep when my phone goes wild on my crotch, where it migrated to during my nap. The clock on the wall reads half-past seven in the morning. Dawn filters in through Ryker’s window.
I palm my cell before it quits humming.
The name National Prez salutes me on the screen. I answer, not wanting to piss him off. He’s not one to wait, unless you want your dick punched and a visit to his special shed. Alright, maybe not the shed. That’s reserved for major offenders. Those who won’t come out alive.
“‘Ello?” I greet on a stifled yawn that I try to smother with my hand.
Not one to beat around the bush, Big dives headfirst into the conversation, when I want nothin’ more than a week of uninterrupted sleep. “How’re things doin’? Any news?” He’s awfully bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at this hour, for a monstrous biker who eats nails for breakfast. Wish I could say the same. Not the nails part. I’ll leave that to Big. I’m more of a slice and dice man myself.
Shrugging, even though he can’t see me through the phone, I reply a sleep-roughened. “Not much. They won’t know for another forty-eight hours. When he gets past the critical phase.” I rub the crud from the corner of my eyes with a knuckle.
“But the surgeries went well?”
Head lolling to the side, another yawn surfaces. “If you call coding twice, blood transfusions, and multiple entry wounds with few exits, good. Then yeah, I guess so. They got all the bullets and fragments out. There’s a plate and screws keeping his fractured leg together. It should hold.” Will hold.
Sleep deprived, hungry, and well past irritable, I stretch my legs out in front of me and massage my knees. Sleeping upright in a hospital chair ain’t no joke. You’d think the back and shoulders would be the worst part. Or the neck. Think again. It’s the hips and legs. That’s where it all starts. Torqued hips twist the spine, which creates a nasty chain reaction. I could use a full body massage right about now.
“That’s what I wanted to hear.” Big sounds relieved. “Better than expected when I got the call. You in his room now?”
“Yes. I don’t plan on leaving. Visiting hours don’t count for folks like us. Plus, Ghost and Pops have enough of a shit storm to clean up. I’m sendin’ ‘em updates every few hours. Figured this is where I’m needed the most.” I couldn’t live with myself if Ryker died, and I wasn’t there. He might do shit to get under my skin and piss me off, but he’s still my brother, by blood and by patch.
True to Big’s character, he ticks one question off his list and jumps into the next, not wasting precious time on niceties. “You heard from Katrina? All Ghost said was she was shook up, but hangin’ in there.”
Do we have to go there?
“That’s about as much as I know, too,” I explain. “We had a blowout after she and Rosie showed up to visit the baby, while Ryker was in surgery.” It’s gonna take a lot of groveling on my part to win back her favor, even if I know I’m right. But I don’t have it in me right now to fight for it. That’ll come later, when I’m not staring at my comatose brother and the machines surrounding his bed.
Prez clears his throat. “Uh, why?”
Dammit, he’s straying from the path. Stick to the script, Big.
“I said some shit about some shit,” I evade, hopin’ he doesn’t press for more.
“About the baby, I’m guessin’.”
Gotta hand it to him, Prez’s smart.
“Somethin’ like that.” Again, I play it chill.
“About you not thinkin’ he’s Ryker’s?”
I throw a hand up, exasperated. “Christ, does everybody know I feel that way? I just don’t want her gettin’ attached to a baby we can’t keep.”
“If he ain’t Ryker’s,” Big stresses as if he thinks the infant is my brother's.
Let me lay this out for ya, okay? So, Kat comes to the hospital with Rosie in tow, and wants to see the kid. He’s in the nursery, getting the best care from the pediatric nurses. She’s all, “I want to hold him, take care of him… yadda yadda, emotional bullshit, cry me a river.” Typical reaction from her. She’s the most caring and loving woman on the face of the planet. I expect nothing less. Whether or not the baby is hers, my best friend’s a caretaker to the core. It’s something to be admired. It is. I know that. You know that. We all fuckin’ know that.
That being said… As her best friend, I can’t, in good faith, let her get forever attached to a child that might not be Ryker’s. That would break her heart, and I can’t stomach the thought of any part of that beautiful woman broken.
Sounds reasonable, right?
It does to me. Only, she doesn’t work like that. As I said, she’s a caretaker, a fierce mama bear. That’s what evoked the fight.
I’m a dick. Said some dickish things in the heat of the moment. She returned my fire with a dose of gasoline. Ugliness ensued. You get the picture. I never said I’m a nice man, but I am a loyal one. And I will fight for Kat, even if I must protect her from herself.
Fact is, Ryker’s wife Vanessa, was a club whore. She spread her legs more than a underpaid porn star. Any brother who’d sniff her way, she’d let screw her brains out. Not that she had many brains. My brother hardly remembers their night together. This wasn’t some torrid love affair. It was drunk sex. Knowing that crazy bitch, she probably roofied his beer and popped him a little blue pill to get him into bed.
Drumming my fingertips on the arm of the chair, I nod to myself. “Exactly. If he’s Ryker’s.” A massive if.
“Gotcha.” Big’s sarcasm is thick.
“Great. You think I’m bein’ an asshole, I can tell.”
“No, no... That’s your biz to sort out. I’ve got enough to handle. Newborn baby stuff ain’t on this radar. You do what you gotta do.”
“Is Rosie?” I prompt, moving our conversation away from shit I don’t wanna discuss, to more important matters.
“Is she what?”
“On your radar?”
“Rosie? What… Spit it out, Kade, I ain’t got time to play games.”
Jesus, I gotta spell it out for him?
“She won’t text me back. I’ve been blowin’ up her phone for hours and nothin’. Not a peep.” I’m turning into an lovesick stalker.
“She left,” Big states casually, like we’re housewives discussing the weather.
My last ounce of patience shrivels up and dies. “What do ya mean she fuckin’ left?!” I roar, thankful we’re at the far end of the ICU wing, away from the nurse’s station.
Fuckity. Fuck. Fuck. Shit!
Hands trembling beyond my control, I lay the phone on the hospital floor between my socked feet and turn on the speaker.
Wrecked & Reclaimed (Sacred Sinners MC - Texas Chapter Book 5) Page 13
