by Geri Glenn
“What kinda match?”
Jase lifts his shoulders in a relaxed shrug, clearly trying to ease my mind. “No clue. Just go clean up and we’ll find out together.”
I slip past him and down the hall to the room I keep here at the clubhouse. I rarely use it. Since I don’t party like most of these guys, I’ve never actually slept here. I mostly use it to store shit that doesn’t fit in my little room at Mrs. Munns, and to shower after my workouts.
I take the quickest shower known to man and slip into a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Jase is waiting in the common area at the bar. As I pass him, his hand comes up and grabs my arm. “Just wanted to say, no matter what happens with the kid, we’re here for you.”
I glare at him. “Nothing is going to fucking happen with Millie.”
“I didn’t say it would, man. I just wanted to say that we have your back. Every one of us here knows you love that little girl like she’s your own. So, no matter what, we’re here. Yeah?”
Despite the fact he’s even entertaining the possibility that things with Millie could go badly, his message is not lost on me. Just yesterday, Jase had heard my retelling of what happened with Spencer. He knew how lost and alone I was after he died. Jase, in his own awkward way, is letting me know that I won’t be alone like that again.
Sarah
“Unfortunately, we were unable to find a donor match in the registry.”
My heartbeat whooshes in my ears and I cling to Laynie’s hand. “What about the test you did on me?”
Dr. Chisolm gives me a sad smile, her head slowly shaking from side to side. “I’m sorry.”
Hope can be a cruel and vicious bitch. Since this whole thing started with Millie, I’ve done nothing but hope, and every damn time, I’ve been smacked with a cold dose of reality. “What now?”
Dr. Chisolm smiles. “We keep searching. We do our best to keep Millie’s levels from changing and we pray.”
Prayer. Another thing that hasn’t done shit to help me.
As the doctor leaves the room, once again stating her apologies, Laynie gives my hand a squeeze. “We’ll find someone.”
Anger forms a hard ball in my belly. “This isn’t fair!” I shout. “She’s just a little girl! A baby! My baby.” Laynie’s arms come around me as the first tear falls, her lips whispering soothing words into my ear. “What kind of God lets a baby have cancer?”
“I don’t know, honey,” Laynie answers, rocking us.
I’ve tried so hard to stay positive through everything that’s happened, but my last question is one that’s been eating away at me all along. What kind of God would let this happen? If God truly was a loving God, why would he let Millie suffer like this? And why would he put me through it after taking Mouse from me?
“Knock, knock.” I freeze solid at the sound of Bosco’s voice coming from the doorway. “Mind if I come in?”
“Sure,” Laynie says, and then her lips are against my ear as she whispers, “Talk to him.” Before I can stop her, she’s up and grabbing onto Dexter’s lead. “I’ll leave you two to talk.”
Bosco steps aside as she leaves, but he doesn’t come farther into the room. When his eyes meet mine, the hurt I’d caused him is still there. “What’s going on?” he asks. “Ryker’s text only said to come to the hospital.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” I say quickly, scrubbing the tears from my face. Why am I always crying around this man?
Bosco’s face tightens, his eyes turning hard. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
I glare at him. “Excuse me?”
Bosco’s angry eyes crinkle at the corners as he scowls down at me. “You’re a real piece of work, ya know that? Not everything in this world revolves around you, Sarah.” He throws his arms out to the side. “Did it ever occur to you that I might be worried about Millie? That I might be here to do whatever I can to help her get better?”
My mouth drops open as I scramble for something to say. He’s right, of course.
“You know what?” he snaps, his voice lower now. “Don’t worry about it. This isn’t why I’m here. I’m here for Tink. What’s going on?”
My cheeks burn with shame. “Uh...she needs a bone marrow transplant and they haven’t been able to find a donor to match her.”
I watch as the color drains from his face. He pushes away from the door and comes inside, sitting directly across from me. “Is she gonna be okay?”
I take a deep breath and give it to him straight. “Not if we don’t find someone that can give her some healthy marrow.”
He blinks at me and sits frozen, his eyes never leaving mine. I watch as an air of determination takes over his face, his jaw tightening as his feet plant wide on the floor. “I’m on it,” he declares, coming to his feet. “You and I can deal with our relationship later. For now, let’s just focus on Tink.”
I admire his confidence, but that last part of his speech sends me over the edge. I pop out of my seat and run my hands through my hair. “You’re right, Bosco. We’ll focus on Tink. There’s no relationship between you and me to deal with, okay? Why don’t you get that?”
I ignore his flaring nostrils and keep going. “I told you, what happened the other night was a mistake. Don’t you see what’s going on here? I could lose my daughter, Bosco! She could fucking die! I don’t need this!” I gesture wildly between us. Exhaustion hits me and my shoulders slump as I whisper that last part over again. “I just don’t need this.”
Bosco takes a step closer, the scent of his motorcycle and recent shower invading my senses. “You don’t need this?” he seethes. I hold his angry stare through narrowed eyes, resolute. “And just to be clear, by this, you mean me, right? You don’t need me?”
“Bos—”
“Well that’s a damn shame,” he says, his face twisted with anger, his words getting louder until he’s yelling. “Because I need you! More than ever, Sarah, I need you.”
My heart lurches in my chest, and even the hand I bring up, as if to hold it in place does nothing to stop the pain as I watch Bosco storm out of the room.
Bosco
These poor nurses don’t know whether they’re in heaven or in hell. One by one, the two ladies make their way down the long row of bikers, swabbing cheeks and marking the samples with each man’s information.
When I’d walked out of that hospital room after my blow up with Sarah, I’d been ready to lose my shit. I never imagined that just around the corner, the rest of the club—my brothers—were getting ready to be tested as a match for Millie. I look around the room at the fifteen leather clad bikers, ten of whom had brought along their old ladies, and my heart goes from anguished to full.
From experience, I know that matching a bone marrow donor isn’t easy, and there’s a good chance that not a single one of us here today are going to be the one, but fucking hell, this goes a long way to giving me hope. I fall in at the end of the line and wait for the nurses to end their swab duties with me.
When we’re finished, we all file into one of the cancer ward’s common rooms, where Millie is already playing dress up with Laynie’s dog, Dexter. “Osco!” she cries, a bright smile on her face, despite her gray tinted skin, and my heart aches as she slowly stands and lumbers toward me.
This isn’t my crazy, exuberant Millie. This Millie is tired and sick, and needs a goddamn miracle. “Hey, Tink,” I say, swooping her up in a hug. “I’ve missed you. Have you been being a good girl for Mommy?”
She nods her tiny head, and for the first time, I notice how thin her hair is. There are patches where there’s no hair at all. Unable to do anything else, I wrap my arms around my girl and pull her into a tight embrace. I bury my nose in her hair and press a kiss to her scalp.
Millie hugs me right back, her little arms wrapping all the way around my neck as she squeezes. “You sad?” she asks, pulling back and taking my face in her hands. Her brown eyes are so wide and innocent, filled with concern for me, while she herself is fighting for her life.
As we’re having our moment, I notice Sarah joining this unofficial biker party, but I’m careful to not look her way. I can’t figure out how I was so foolish to not notice that I was more involved in this relationship than she was. I had made Millie and Sarah my main priority, taking care of them much the same way I know Mouse would have. But all along, though she’d been thankful, Sarah hadn’t been on the same page at all. The assumption that she felt the same but was afraid to admit it was way off base.
As the afternoon wears on, I try to tell the guys to go on home. It’s going to be a few hours for the lab to process all of our tests, but both times, they refuse. A few families had attempted to come into the common room with their own children, but had quickly vacated as soon as they were met with the sea of leather sitting on every available surface inside.
Millie was in heaven. Everyone in here was here specifically for her. We all watched and laughed as she put more outfits on poor Dexter, drew a picture of Jase with his fucked-up ear, built a Lego castle with Tease, and even managed to convince Reaper to let her put a bow in his beard.
When the doctor came in, we all stopped what we were doing, and as one, turned our full attention on her. “Good news,” she says, her smile growing wide. “We have a match.” Cheers and hugs are exchanged, all of us filled with relief. She looks down at her clipboard. “Which one of you gentlemen is Lucas Landry?”
My heart shrinks a little when it’s not my name that she calls, but the disappointment is overshadowed by the fact that one of us is indeed a match. Reaper stands from a child-sized plastic chair in the corner. “That would be me.”
The doctor’s wide eyes assess Reaper. I can only imagine what she’s thinking. Reaper is well over six feet tall. Aside from his face, there’s no visible skin that’s not covered in tattoos. His hair is long, his beard is scruffy, and his face is as hard as they come. I watch as she swallows loudly and collects herself. “And you agree to donating bone marrow to Amelia Lopez?”
Reaper looks down into Millie’s innocent eyes and grins. “Hell, yeah.”
“Are you aware of the procedure?”
“Whatever you need, I’ll do it,” he says, taking Millie’s hand.
“Still, I need to inform you. You will be taken down to the lab, where you’ll go through a brief physical to ensure that you’re physically healthy enough to donate marrow to Millie. If all goes well, you’ll be taken to the operating room and placed under general anesthesia. Do you understand?”
“I do.”
The doctor nods, then continues. “During the procedure, you’ll be laying on your stomach. The doctor will make very small incisions on each side of your pelvis, and then using a hollow needle, will withdraw the marrow from inside the bone. You’ll need a few days to recover, but if all goes well, you should be able to go home later on tonight.”
The rest of sit and watch their exchange in horror. I already had an idea of how it all worked, but because I hadn’t been the one that had donated to Spencer all those years ago, I never actually learned the exact process.
“After learning all of that, do you still agree to donate marrow to Amelia Lopez?”
Reaper looks at the doctor with determination in his eyes. “You better believe it.”
The doctor grins. “Then please, follow me.”
As Reaper follows her out the door, he clamps his hand down on my shoulder, giving me a quick shake.
Sarah
I’m just pouring the sugar into my fourth cup of coffee when I hear the heavy thud of boots approaching from behind. “Mind if I grab one of those?” Ryker asks.
“Sure.” I press the button on the coffee machine, cueing it up to make another cup. I turn and give him a tight smile. “I wanted to thank you for...you know. Rallying the troops and helping us find a donor.”
Ryker shrugs. “Not a big deal. We’re a club. It’s what we do.”
I nod and take a sip of my coffee. “Still. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
With a small wave of my hand, I walk past him, anxious to get back and see if there’s any news on Reaper.
“Sarah?” Turning, I meet his eyes, and as soon as I do, my heart sinks. His fixed stare tells me that I’m not going to like what he’s about to say. “I’m not normally one to stick my nose in other people’s business, but watchin’ you go through what you’re going through as a mother, and dealin’ with what you’re dealing with when it comes to Bos...well, I kinda feel like you’re not seein’ shit clearly and I wanted to let you in on somethin’.”
Suddenly, I have the inexplicable urge to cover my ears and sing a song and run down the hall, putting as much distance between me and Ryker as I can. But I don’t. Ryker has never been anything but kind and fair with me, and I know I owe it to him to at least hear him out.
“Now, I know your mind is currently focusin’ on your little girl, as it should be. But I don’t think you’re grasping the reality of what you have around you.” My brows draw together in confusion. What the hell is that supposed to mean?
“When Mouse died, the club rallied around you, made sure you were okay. Took care of you. We put Bosco on you to make sure you never wanted for anythin’. I’m not sayin’ you owe us for any of that; that was ours to give. But I do want you to know that we loved your man. Mouse was one of us. He loved you, and that made you one of us.
“I’ve watched in silence as you’ve pulled further and further away from this club. You ignore the ladies, you don’t talk to anyone but Bosco, and that’s only ’cause he’s in your face all the time.”
Something inside me snaps. “You wanna know why I pulled away? Why I can’t stomach the idea of being around all of you?” Ryker just raises a brow and waits. “Mouse died because of all of you, because of your club. Every time I turn around there’s something else going on with you guys. Someone’s getting killed, or kidnapped, or arrested. Do you really think I want to raise my daughter around that kind of shit?”
My outburst shocks me and my shoulders heave, but Ryker takes his time considering what I’ve just said. After a long minute of silence, he says, “Fair enough, I can get behind that. But you’re only choosing to see the bad shit about this club, the shit that rarely happens. This club is a family. A fucked-up family, sure, but we care about each other. You’re not seeing the fact that we were all here when Millie was born, or that when Laynie fell down the stairs last year, she had a steady stream of people taking care of her, all of them a part of this club. You’re forgetting about the bow Millie just put in Reaper’s beard, which he forgot about, by the way, and I’m sure the doctor in the operating room is loving the way it matches his eyes. You’re choosing to ignore the twenty some people in that waiting room, all of whom were willing to have a needle jammed into their pelvis to give your little girl a fighting chance. So, before you go accusing us of being a danger to you and your daughter, you think about all of that.”
I blink up at him, my chest aching.
“And as for Bosco,” he continues, “that man has gone above and beyond what this club has asked him to do for you. You don’t have to be with him the way he wants, but cutting him out of that child’s life when she’s sick is fucked-up and you know it.”
He snags his coffee from the percolator and pushes past me, leaving me with a quivering chin and a heart full of remorse. First Bosco and now Ryker. Both of them had ripped into me today, and both of them had been right. I have a lot to think about, and several apologies to make.
Bosco
I watch as Millie’s color returns to normal right before my eyes, the marrow being pumped into her directly through the catheter in her chest. It had taken two days for her little body to be prepared for this, and though it isn’t without its risks, I know that Reaper’s selfless act will be exactly what she needs to fight this.
Sarah and I haven’t spoken much the last couple days, even though I haven’t left their side. I get her coffee and food, but our conversations never
move past one or two-word interactions.
“Scott?”
The sound of my actual name on Sarah’s lips surprises me. To be honest, aside from my dentist, nobody ever calls me by my real name, choosing instead to use the short form to my last name, Boscarelli. I look up and wait for her to say whatever it is that’s causing that nervous look on her face.
She glances to the bed where Millie lies, sleeping peacefully from the sedative she was given, and then back to me. “I owe you an apology.” She screws her face up and grimaces. “Hell, I owe you a million apologies. I never should have told you that I didn’t need you the other day. That wasn’t true. I was feeling sorry for myself and for Millie, and I wasn’t thinking clearly at all. I kinda took it out on you.”
I smirk and cock a brow at the use of her word ‘kinda.’
“Okay, fine.” She hums softly, a sparkle of humour in her eyes. “I really took it out on you. I was a selfish bitch and I’m sorry.” Pink rises in her cheeks, and she turns her face to the floor, her eyes meeting mine from beneath her lashes. “I’m also sorry about the other day. I was a total dick kicking you out of the house the way I did. I don’t even have an excuse. Fear? Temporary insanity? Pick whichever one you like.”
I pretend to consider the options, tilting my head to the side. “The insanity plea does make sense.”
Sarah’s eyes roll back in her head as the shame vanishes from her face and a smile appears. “You’re not gonna make this easy on me, are you?”
I wipe the teasing grin from my face and move my chair a little closer, keeping my voice low so I don’t wake Millie. “First of all, don’t call yourself a bitch. I hate that shit. And second, apology accepted.” I lean forward and wrap my hand around hers. “I know you’re going through a lot, Sarah, and I can’t imagine the things that are running through your head. I care about you and I care about Millie. I don’t want my presence in your life to be something bad. I’ll back off if that’s what you want. Just don’t cut me out again. That’s not fair to me or that little girl over there.”
