“They’re right,” the paramedic says. “And, for the record, even though it’s obvious that where this debris is lodged in her leg that it’s infected, y’all did a helluva job cleaning it out. The infection is most likely due to the foreign object and anything that went in when it entered.” I want to believe him because remembering the hell that we put her through these past two days makes me want to hit something.
My mind wanders to that first full day when it became obvious that Hannah had an infection going on. Nan and Chef had conferred and then they had taken our woman to the furthest corner and cleaned the area again, using alcohol, wound wipes, and hydrogen peroxide. Our woman had done her best to control her screams because of the kids, biting into a pillow, but the sight of her sobbing uncontrollably killed me. In fact, when they ran out, Axe called Chief, who ended up on the never-ending duty, and he went and got more stuff. Hell, if we had known a doctor, I’d have paid them to come and look at her!
I’m about to say something else when we pull into the emergency room at the hospital. The paramedic quickly unloads Hannah and we both barely get a chance to kiss her before she’s whisked away, leaving us standing there bereft.
Smokey
I may look calm and collected on the outside, but inside, I’m a blubbering idiot, not a badass biker as Hannah likes to say when she’s teasing us both. My heart…hell, my soul and the very essence of who I am was just wheeled away and now, all the two of us can do is wait. “C’mon, man, let’s go in and make sure we can go back once they’ve got her settled,” I say to Bandit.
“Think she’ll be okay?”
“Fuck yeah, she’s gonna be just fine.”
“She’s not gonna be able to work for a while.”
“Gives her more time to focus on her art. She doesn’t need to work anyhow, together we make more than enough to give her anything her heart desires. Fuck, we could probably send a house full of kids to college with what we’ve saved over the years,” I tell him. It’s not like we’ve spent a lot over the last few years. We’ve got our bikes, of course, and we have the truck for hauling shit, plus the house. Even getting it set up for all three of us, we’ve barely tapped the surface of what we’ve got saved.
We head inside and let the clerk know who we’re there for and I’m not surprised to see the look of disgust cross her face when we make it known she’s with the two of us. “Listen, not to be an asshole, but I sure hope you don’t play poker,” I tell the clerk.
“What? What do you mean?”
“Seeing your face when we told her we were both with her says a lot about you as a person. Hope like hell others in this damn place don’t treat her like she’s nothing or we’ll own this fucking place,” I growl out.
Bandit places his hand on my shoulder in support of what I just said. “Amen, brother.”
“We’re calling our attorney now and let me tell you something…Henrietta…it’s people like you that make things ugly and awful.”
“I didn’t say anything,” she sputters out.
“You didn’t have too, your personality gave you away,” I say, slamming my hand on the counter.
“Just tell us where the fuck our woman is,” Bandit says to her.
“You can go in the family waiting room, around that corner there and I’ll inform the doctor on duty that you’re here inquiring about her.”
“Damn straight you will,” I say, as my brother ushers me in the direction she indicated. I’m not however, going to trust that she’ll actually let anyone know shit. So I pick up the red phone that is in the waiting room and inform the operator that her family is here and waiting for a word about how she is doing.
“Well, what did the person on the other end of that line say?” Bandit asks me.
“Says she’ll relay the message to the charge nurse.” He nods his head in approval. About this time the room floods with my brothers, their women and Bridget with Capone hot on her heels. He hasn’t taken his eyes from her ass, there’s definitely something happening there.
“How is she?” Bridget asks, coming and standing directly in front of us.
“We haven’t heard anything yet.” Bandit tells her. She walks over and collapses on the chair next to me.
“She’ll be okay…right? I can’t have just gotten my sister back to lose her this way.”
“She’s going to be just fine, have faith in her. She’s a fighter and has survived worse things than this.”
“This is true,” she says, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. I reach over and squeeze her hand, she will be my sister-in-law after all, might as well bring her into the fold rather than push her away. If my girl can forgive her, I can too.
Four hours. Four fucking hours. That’s how long we’ve been waiting. We’ve picked up the red phone so much that now security has come in and taken a conspicuous seat right underneath the damn thing. Fucker. I’d hit him upside the head with the receiver, but I’m sure he knows Chief somehow. Bandit’s not faring any better. He’s lost on his phone, scrolling through all the pictures he’s taken of the three of us and of her. It makes my heart ache that we aren’t there, holding her hand through all of this.
“Calm, brother,” Axe says, sitting next to me. “Y’all are gonna have to be strong for her.”
I look up at my brother and nod. It’s easier said than done but then again, I believe in a higher power, and know that she’s going to come out of this on the other end and somehow be stronger for getting away from her brother on her own.
“We’re here, for both of you and her,” Cara says to me and Bandit. I still can’t verbalize any words right now—my worry is too strong.
“Looking for the family of Hannah Nelson,” a man in blue scrubs and a white lab coat says. I’m presuming this is the doctor that’s been working on her.
“That’s us,” Bridget says. “I’m her sister and these two gentlemen are her husbands.” I glow and square my shoulders at hearing the word husband and me in the same sentence.
The doctor looks at us and just nods his head before he begins, “Miss Nelson, as you know was admitted with a huge shard of glass inserted in her upper right thigh. It is highly infected, we’ve managed to remove the glass from her and have her started on an extremely high dosage of antibiotics. She was in and out of it for a while, and we were keeping a close eye on her, which is why no one came and spoke with you before now. The infection has gone into the bloodstream so she’s looking at a minimum of at least a week of staying with us. She is going to be admitted here in a few short minutes, we ask that only the three of you go back in the room with her for now. When she’s settled then she can have visitors, but I want to stress that it is very important that she rest. I would advise you to keep visitors to a minimum, just so her body has a chance to recover without the added stress of entertaining. And our compliments on the ones who cleaned her gashes and cuts up and butterfly-stitched them. She’s not going to need stitches, which wouldn’t do any good several days later anyhow, but there should be minimal if any scarring.” On that, he raises his eyebrows like my kindergarten teacher used to when she was making a point and wanted to make sure we understood her instructions.
“We’re gonna be staying with her,” I state. No way in hell will she be left alone in this place.
“We’ll make arrangements for that to be possible.”
“What are visiting hours?” Axe asks.
“Visiting hours are over at eight pm, but they start allowing visitors at eight am. I doubt very seriously that anyone other than these three here will have the chance to see her tonight. But you’re more than welcome to come see her as soon as the doors open in the morning. I’ll make sure that you are given her room number and floor information before you leave here.”
“Thanks, doc,” I say, shaking his hand.
“You’re more than welcome, you have a strong young lady on your hands. She’s definitely a fighter and she’ll get through this,” he says, and I can’t help but smile because those ar
e the same words I chanted in my head while waiting to hear from whoever was treating her. “I’ll send her nurse in here to get you shortly.”
Hannah
I hear a bunch of mumbling around me, but none of the voices sound familiar as I begin to wake up. Damn, this is the good shit, I wonder if I can take some of this home with me? Nothing hurts at the moment and I’m eternally grateful for that. “I’m going to go and get your family and bring them back here to see you,” a woman’s voice says.
“Don’t forget my men,” I slur out.
“Men?” she questions.
“Yes, I have two…aren’t I lucky?”
“That you are, two men doting on one woman sounds heavenly,” she says with a chuckle in her voice.
“You have no idea,” I once again slur out. My mouth feels like it’s full of cotton, but the way my body is floating, I almost don’t give a shit. This beats tequila tongue hands down.
What feels like hours later, I hear my guys’ voices and I think I hear my sister’s too.
“Hey, doll.”
“Damn it’s good to see you,” Bandit says, placing a kiss on my cheek. It feels funny, like air brushing past me. I begin to giggle, and they look at me strangely.
“I feel fuzzy,” I tell them. My eyes are barely open, and I swear that I’m not on the bed but floating somewhere above it. I lazily reach my arm up because I’m sure that this time, I’ll touch the ceiling.
“What the fuck?” Smokey asks, watching me.
“I’m floating, honey…isn’t it great?” I respond, watching my hand moving to and fro. I kinda feel like one of those princesses who waves, and I start giggling at the thought of me being royalty. I don’t know why it gets to me, my men treat me like a queen anyways.
“What the hell do they have her on?” Bandit asks.
“I don’t know, but I’m going to go find out,” Smokey states as I see him leave the room.
“Oh poo, where’s he going? I don’t want them to take away my crowning moment.”
“Yep, she’s high as a kite,” Bridget announces, and I can hear her laughing.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I doubt they’ll take you off the good stuff anytime soon.”
“Yay!” I say and they both laugh at my excitement.
“They have her on a morphine drip,” Smokey states, coming back into the room.
“Hey, doll,” I say to him.
“Ummm…hey,” he says. “Isn’t that my line?” he asks me.
“Whose line is it anyway?” I ask. This has me laughing harder because I think of that comic, Drew something or other, and how funny the men who used to ad-lib their way through various skits. Then, that makes me think of his show with the big woman and the crazy eyeshadow. This makes me giggle harder. Right now, everything’s funny.
“You said what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine, we share, don’t we?” I ask, sticking out my bottom lip, which I begin to chew on because it feels funny.
“What are you doing, sis?”
“You know when you go to the dentist and they numb your mouth?”
“Yes,” she says, hesitantly.
“That’s what my lip feels like.”
“Don’t bite a hole in it,” Smokey says. “Got plans for those lips when you’re better!”
“Yipee! Oh yeah? Like what? Wait, I know, I can wrap them around your cock.”
Bridget’s laughter has me looking at her like she’s got a screw loose or something. I was being dead serious. I love having them in my mouth. Hell, anywhere, actually!
“Okay, this is almost too much information, but I can’t seem to stop listening, please do enlighten me, sister dear.”
“Or don’t,” Bandit growls out. “What is it with women and oversharing?”
“You’re asking me, brother?” Smokey asks, pointing at himself. For some reason, I find this hysterical and begin laughing so hard I can’t catch my breath.
“Slow down, take deep breaths in and out,” Bandit says, his face leaning over mine.
“You have a pimple right there,” I say, poking his chin. “It’s sticking out there for all of the world to see,” I inform him. It’s important for him to know this, I’d want to know.
“You two may need to go and request a valium if you expect to survive my sister and her morphine-induced haze,” Bridget says.
“Actually, I’d rather her like that than how she’s been the past few days,” Bandit states before going over to the mirror to examine his chin.
“It’s right there! Where your finger is!” I tell him.
“I don’t see a damn thing,” he replies.
“That’s because she’s hallucinating, brother,” Smokey says, hysterically laughing.
“I most certainly am not!” I decree. “I mean, I know y’all see the pink unicorn over there in the corner, right?”
Smokey
You know when someone says don’t look down, the first thing you do is look. For some reason when my woman says she sees a pink unicorn, I find myself looking in the corner she pointed to. By this time, Bridget is laughing so hard she’s fallen off her chair and is on the floor. Her hand is flapping in the air as she tries to reign herself in. I go over and help her up but cannot help laughing as well. Hannah’s face, all bruised and battered and covered in those small steri-strip things is so fucking serious and she’s pointing to the far corner as if she does, in fact, see a pink unicorn! I think when this is all said and done, Bandit and I should go get a tattoo with a damn pink unicorn and have her name in script underneath it. Yeah, sure I won’t have an issue talking him into that one. The thought has me laughing harder. Naw, we’d get way too much shit from the brothers if we did that. Then again, if we put it low…something to consider.
“Gonna go get the nurse, brother, this can’t be right,” Bandit says before he heads out the door.
“Y’all really can’t see Goober?”
“Who the fuck is Goober?” I know I shouldn’t ask, but I can’t seem to help myself.
“My pink unicorn friend! What’s wrong with y’all?”
“Your pretend friend’s name is Goober?” Bridget asks her.
“That’s what he said when he introduced himself,” she says as serious as she’d tell me the sky is blue. I need a minute, so I turn around and try to get myself under control because this is some funny shit right here. Bandit walks in the room with a nurse and the doctor in tow.
“What’s going on here?” the doctor asks.
“They don’t see Goober! They’re trying to make me think I’m losing my mind,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest.
“And who exactly is this?” the doctor asks, with his eyebrows drawn together.
“The pink unicorn in the corner,” I explain to him.
“The what? Where?” he asks, and just as I did, he looks in the corner when she points where she’s seeing it. When that happens, I completely lose my shit, and am hunched over laughing so hard I cannot catch my breath.
“I think we need to switch her meds,” the doctor states.
“Ya think?” Bandit states.
“Normally, it doesn’t affect people like this, so she must have a low tolerance for pain meds,” the doctor muses. He goes over to the IV and stops the morphine drip, causing Hannah to pout.
“If I can’t have that, can I have a pitcher of margaritas?” she asks.
“NO!” we both bellow out. Jesus Christ, this woman!
Bridget raises her hand and says to Hannah, “I’m on board, sis, I’ll give DJ a call and see what we can do for you.” Bandit walks over to her and takes her phone out of her hand.
“You most certainly will not! And where the hell did you get DJ’s number from?”
“She gave it to me, so I can keep them updated on how she is.”
“Is your video recording?”
“Sure the fuck is! That,” she says, pointing over at Hannah, “was too fucking funny not to share.”
“You have to give her tha
t one, brother,” I say. I wish I’d been the one to think of it.
“Send that shit to me,” I tell her.
She smiles at me and says, “I will as soon as the caveman gives me back my phone.”
“I give up,” Bandit says, handing her back her phone. “But no margaritas…end of story, understand?”
“Yes, sir,” she says saluting him. Fucking smartass women! You can tell these women come from the same stock. Life is going to be so much fun!
Chapter Thirteen
Hannah
It’s been six weeks since I was released from the hospital. I took the guys up on their insistence that I stay home and concentrate on my art. Bridget took over my job at the truck stop. She’s loving it and has even made friends with the other old ladies. Even Nan has taken her under her wing, luckily, she hasn’t had to feel her hands on her boobs. The guys are splitting their time with their regular jobs and helping me put a portfolio together. I’ve decided to do some flash art and try to sell it at some chosen tattoo parlors. When my sister and the guys showed me the video of me in the hospital I was mortified, but I took it in stride and joked around with them about it. If you can’t laugh at yourself, life is not worth living.
Our sexual exploration has intensified, and I find myself excited each and every night they walk through the front door after a day of hard work. I always shower with them and help them clean up, I love soaping them up and watching the bubbles slide down their chest and thighs. I’ve got a wicked scar on my thigh from that awful day, but I’m grateful I’m still alive to tell the tale if the truth is told. The guys have told me that once it heals, if it still bothers me, I can get a tattoo to cover it up. Never knew that was a possibility, but they showed me the pictures they found on the internet, and know some folks who can make it happen. Tonight we’re heading to the clubhouse for my patch-in ceremony. Seems during all the weather craziness, they staked their claim and we’re now making it official.
DJ and Cara came over earlier and helped me pick out an outfit that is sure to make the guys’ eyes pop in admiration. I’ve got the biker chick look down to a ‘T’ and I can’t wait to show my new look off to them. I’m wearing tight, hip hugger jeans with tears in the knees, and a tank top that proudly states I’m a member of the RGMC. Nan had all of the old ladies a necklace made that holds the club’s logo and I’m proudly wearing it around my neck. I also have some badass biker boots, low-heeled because if I get to drinking tonight, I want to make sure I don’t land flat on my face. My hair is curled in ringlets and is hanging down my shoulders. My sister even came over and did my makeup, she gave me a natural look, but went a little heavier on the eyeshadow to make my eyes stand out. I’m wearing gloss, because I hate the way lipstick feels on my lips, when it begins to wear off and curdles, I find that I start picking at it. I’m a little unusual, because the women looked at me as if I’d grown a second head when I told them this.
Smokey & Bandit: Rebel Guardians MC Page 15
