Charge to My Line

by Lani Lynn Vale

  Fear started gurgling up my throat in the form of a scream, but he must’ve felt it because his hand clamped down on my throat tightly, trapping my scream.

  “Uh-uh. We don’t want him coming up here too early. I want to be able to enjoy you first before he realizes I’m here. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he realizes I did you right under his fucking nose,” he sneered.

  Woof-woof-woof!

  Petunia. My baby girl.

  Fear ran rampant through my veins. If Petunia was barking, that’d mean Grayson wouldn’t put up with it for long. He hated when he had to listen to her bark.

  “Fuck me, that stupid fucking dog. I should’ve taken her out outside when I had the chance,” Bobby growled.

  Woof-woof-woof!

  My knees started to collapse from under me. Maybe from the lack of oxygen, or possibly from pure fear. Whatever the cause, only the pressure on my throat kept me from hitting my knees.

  Little white dots started to dance in my vision, and I knew, too late, that I was seconds away from losing consciousness.

  Woof-woof-woof!

  “Night, precious. You’ll want to thank that dog for saving your man. It won’t save you, though,” was the last thing I heard.

  ***

  Torren

  “When was the hearing?” I asked in outrage.

  Why wouldn’t they have told us they were holding the hearing?

  Wasn’t that something they thought the perpetrator’s victims ought to fucking know?

  Woof-woof-woof!

  Tru’s puppy (not so puppy), Petunia, a hundred and eighteen pound, year old, horse of a Cane Corso, barked furiously at the door to mine and Tru’s room. Most likely because she was locked out again.

  “Kosher, heel,” Trance ordered.

  Kosher sat whining at Trance’s feet, body locked in waiting, staring at our hound.

  Woof-woof-woof!

  The sound was nearly deafening in the small space, making my head pound with each subsequent bark. Each woof echoed off the walls of the hallway, and I fully expected Tru to quiet her down by letting her in, but she never did.

  Kosher, Trance’s K-9 partner, sat quivering at Trance’s feet, eyes trained on the hallway as well.

  “What’s going on with them?” Loki asked in concern.

  A sick feeling of dread started to work its way up my throat, and I walked cautiously out of the kitchen, keeping my eyes on the door.

  Woof-woof-woof!

  My hands hit the door knob and I twisted it carefully, fully expecting Petunia to barrel through the door in excitement. Instead, a low, foreboding growl left her throat, and I felt the hairs on the back of my arms and neck stand on in at the threat.

  Heart pounding, I rounded the corner of our room and disbelief poured out of me at the sight I walked in on.

  Tru was on her back on the bed, a large black handle of a butcher knife stuck out of her protruding belly. Her face was white, and a growing puddle of blood was seeping through the white sheets of the bed, painting them in red.

  “Jesus, no,” I moaned, running to the bed and stopping short, scared to death to touch her.

  The sound left me sounding like a wounded animal, which for all intents and purposes, I was.

  My mind was cloudy, and I felt like I’d stepped into an alternate universe. One where everything I loved and cherished was gone, and I was left with nothing.

  “Mother fucker. Call an ambulance,” Loki yelled.

  “Tell ‘em they’ll need the Life Flight. We’re too far, and the baby might not make it if they send a medic,” Sebastian ordered, violently shoving me backwards until I fell into someone’s arms.

  I vaguely noticed them as Trance’s, but by the time I finally got my brain back online, Trance already had me out of the room.

  I struggled hard, trying my hardest to get free.

  But then one pair of arms became two. Then three.

  I was screaming loudly, thrashing wildly to get myself free to no avail.

  “Shit, hold him down,” Silas growled.

  “Grayson?” Tru’s beautiful voice called out softly.

  I froze, bringing my head up so I could look towards the bed, and found Tru’s haunted eyes on me.

  “Come hold my hand,” she ordered.

  The arms holding me lifted, one by one, until I was free to stand.

  I walked towards her slowly, keeping my eyes above her shoulders so I didn’t lose it again.

  Her eyes were pained, and I wanted to rage. To fight. To rip that fucker apart with my bare fucking hands.

  I wouldn’t do any of that, yet. Eventually, yes; but, right now, they needed me to be strong.

  “I’m here, baby. I’m here,” I said, cupping her face in between my hands and kissing her softly on the nose.

  “I’m not going to die,” she rasped.

  I squeezed my eyes tightly shut.

  She better hope not, because if she did, there was nothing on this earth that could keep me from destroying everything and anyone that played a part in making Bobby’s attack possible.

  ***

  I entered through the ER entrance with five men at my heels.

  We’d ridden hard, making it to the hospital in half the time it normally took.

  “This way!” Rue yelled, standing at a staff only entrance that led through the belly of the hospital.

  I followed her up two flights of stairs, thankful that she’d forgone the elevator, and stopped at a set of doors that said, ‘Authorized Personnel Only.’

  “They’ve been in there with her for over an hour. I haven’t heard…” she stopped when a very pissed off wail sounded from the room in front of us, causing us to all look up.

  My heart started to pound as a nurse walked toward us from the other side, carrying a squirming infant in her arms.

  Rue typed in a number on the keypad beside the door, opening the two doors, allowing the outraged wail to intensify.

  I knew the child was mine from the instant I laid eyes on her.

  The closer she got, the more sure I became.

  She looked exactly like I’d hoped. She had Tru’s pretty blonde hair and cute little nose, with my stormy gray eyes.

  My eyes were wild, I’m sure, because when the nurse’s eyes lifted to me, she halted in her tracks.

  It probably didn’t help that a large man wearing head to toe black in a biker cut was staring her down.

  I didn’t have any such problem moving forward, though.

  “My wife?” I asked her, stepping forward.

  She smiled sadly at me and held my child out to me. “Your wife’s still in surgery. They’re sewing her up now, and as soon as she’s done, they’ll be wheeling her into the room I’m about to take y’all to. This is your daughter, though. She’s a very lucky little girl.”

  I took her from the nurse, cradling her minuscule weight to my chest.

  “Is she okay?” I asked, not able to take my eyes off my little girl.

  “She’s fine. She does have a laceration on her thigh, but we’ve cleaned that up, and bandaged it. She’s perfect,” the nurse said softly.

  I looked up and smiled at her brightly. “Thank you.”

  She patted me on the arm, then removed a hospital bracelet from her pocket, expertly attaching it to my wrist.

  “This is what identifies that this little chunky monkey as yours. When we get there, we’ll compare the bracelet around her ankle to the one on your wrist. Your wife has the same one on her own wrist. This’ll be verified every time the baby leaves you and comes back to you,” the nurse explained.

  I nodded, thankful.

  Three hours later, as I sat at my wife’s bedside, staring at the tiny bundle of chunkiness wrapped in her hot pink skull blanket, I thanked God I was such a lucky man.

  Ashe Adriana Trammel was born a hefty nine and a half pounds, four short hours ago, via a caesarian section.

  The only thing wrong was the lone horizontal wound from one side of her thigh t
o the other.

  It could’ve been so much worse.

  It was thin, and blissfully shallow. More like a tiny scrape than the knife slice we all knew it was.

  My little girl had been lucky. Tru, on the other hand, hadn’t been.

  Her C-section had been invasive. Instead of the normal incision in the pelvic region, she had to have the vertical one that went from belly button to hips because they weren’t sure if the baby was pinned by the knife or not.

  On top of that, she’d had quite a bit of internal bleeding.

  I hadn’t been able to be there for her, either.

  She’d been taken by Life Flight, and if it hadn’t have been my brother and Cleo taking care of her, I’d have lost it for a second time.

  The entire waiting room was filled with friends and family, but I was waiting for two people to get here. Tru’s parents. Only then would I leave.

  Chapter 24

  When he’s really mad, there’s no one that’ll risk calming him down. Except for his wife. Bitches be crazy.

  -Silas to Sebastian

  Torren

  “You got him?” I asked as I walked into the empty room.

  My boots pounded hard on the dirty concrete floor. Boots scuffled once they realized I was here, but my eyes never left my president.

  Silas nodded, mouth set in a hard, thin line. “Yes.”

  I only had one word for him. “Good.”

  I nodded and shouldered past him into the room, closing the door quietly behind me. The control I showed on the outside was not synonymous with my mood. On the outside I was cool and calm. On the inside, I wanted to peal the man’s skin off like an overripe orange.

  As I flipped the light on and saw the man lying on the ground with his hands and feet duck taped together behind his back.

  He blinked at me, smiling when he realized who he finally got.

  Nearly two hours had passed since I learned all that Tru had gone through.

  I’d sat through the explanation with unearthly calm, wanting nothing else but to put Tru at ease.

  But the moment I learned he was caught by Silas, I left Tru and my less than a day old daughter, citing the need for a shower and a change of clothes.

  Then I came straight here, riding with peace, knowing that this was all about to be over.

  Bobby moaned and writhed on the floor, trying his hardest to get free to no avail.

  Crossing my arms, I watched him squirm.

  “I have an oath that I made when I became a paramedic. However, that oath is superseded by the oath I made to my wife when we got married. Lucky-fucking-you,” I smiled, then dropped down to one knee to look into his eyes.

  Hatred shone bright and hot.

  Reaching forward, I ripped the tape off viciously, causing him to cry out hoarsely.

  What a pussy.

  “Why?” I asked.

  He smiled. “You killed my brother.”

  I smiled. “I killed my brother, too. How about you ask me how I sleep at night?”

  He launched himself at me as best he could, but I stood and stepped out of reach of his useless attempts to hurt me.

  “Like a fucking baby,” I said before I reared back and kicked him in the belly.

  A pained gush of air escaped his mouth, and I wanted to whoop in triumph at the sound. I didn’t, though, not with what came out of his mouth next.

  “He was my twin. Colby was my goddamned twin!” He screamed irately.

  I froze when the words finally penetrated my incensed mind, but I didn’t calm down.

  Going down to one knee again, I made sure I could see his face. Read his emotions.

  What he had to say next could very well save his life.

  “So tell me,” I said. “What exactly were you planning on doing to my wife? Think very carefully about what you say next, because it could potentially save your life.”

  He shook his head, refusing to answer.

  I smiled, showing him just how fucking crazy I was.

  “You know,” I said softly. “Tru told me what you said already. I know you planned on raping her. I know you had much more planned for my two girls. Did you know that the huge goddamned knife you stabbed through my wife’s belly only grazed my little girl? But even though she’s going to be okay, one single drop of my girl’s blood was too much. And since I’m not in the right frame of mind, my father has gracefully volunteered to take over matters here so I can get back to my wife and newborn. Lucky for you that y’all will get to make friends.”

  I smiled at him, relishing in the fear that flashed through his eyes before he was able to cover it.

  “I hope you enjoy the meeting. It’s the last one you’ll ever get,” I said, giving him a vicious right hook to the face before I stood and left the room.

  The first pair of eyes I met when I exited the room was my pop’s gray ones. The same color as his son’s. And my daughter’s.

  He looked livid.

  Blood didn’t mean loyalty to him.

  It didn’t to any of the members of The Dixie Wardens MC. Earning it did.

  And Bobby fucking Prescott was about to have firsthand knowledge to that fact.

  ***

  “The best thing you can do for yourself is walk, honey,” I heard the nurse say when I made it through the hospital room’s door.

  “I don’t want to walk. I want to eat some freakin’ cake. Which I don’t have. And I haven’t had since I got pregnant. The least you could do is go get me some cake,” Tru muttered darkly.

  Daniella caught my eyes as soon as I moved over the threshold.

  She had a hand covering her mouth as she tried her hardest not to laugh at her daughter.

  “How about some cookie cake and a Dr. Pepper from the cookie factory?” I asked, holding up my treasure for her eyes to feast on.

  I also had a large french fry from Chick-Fil-A, and a chicken sandwich. Her favorites.

  She looked at me and her eyes teared up.

  “You’re the best husband ever!” She wailed.

  I walked toward the bed, leaning forward once I got to her bedside, and kissed her senseless.

  She was panting slightly once I disengaged my mouth from hers, and a pained, “Jesus Christ,” had me laughing.

  Turning to Frank, I smiled. He had Ashe curled up on his chest. Her chunky cheek was resting against his heart, and he had one large hand curled around her tiny tush.

  “She doing good?” I asked, turning back to my wife.

  She nodded. “Eats like a horse.”

  I didn’t doubt that. Not with the hefty bulk she carried.

  “No doubt about that, baby,” I agreed. “How are you feeling?”

  She grimaced, but before she could answer, the nurse chimed in. “She’d feel a lot better if she got up and started moving.”

  I stepped in front of my wife before she could start throwing things.

  “Come on, honey. I bet you’d like a shower, wouldn’t you?” I asked, knowing I was right.

  She’d complained of it that morning, and I knew it’d get her up and moving.

  Reluctantly, she nodded yes, and we spent the next five minutes getting her painfully out of the bed.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered once she had her legs under her.

  The nurse moved forward and disconnected Tru’s IV, placing a saline lock over the port before covering the entire thing in waterproof tape. “There you go, sweetie. Keep going, now.”

  My belly felt sick as she started to shuffle forward, hunched to protect her vulnerable stomach.

  I had one hand underneath her arm, holding her steady in case she faltered as she slowly made her way to the bathroom. Her ass was hanging out the back of her gown while her father laughed to cover up his unease at seeing his daughter hurting.

  Daniella hurried ahead of us, turning the shower on for her before sneaking back out again.

  “You can take off the dressings. It’s best to let them peel off with the water and soap from the shower. While you’
re doing that, I’ll change the linens on your bed and bring you some more towels,” the nurse said before she breezed out of the room.

  Once she was standing in front of the shower, I closed the door behind us and let her arm go.

  She worked the gown off her shoulders and let it fall unceremoniously to the floor.

  She looked down at her belly and sniffled.

  “For some reason,” she said tearfully. “I thought my belly would be smaller once she was out.”

  I laughed and pulled her gently into my arms.

  Even naked and covered in dried blood, she was beautiful.

  “I heard someone down the hall say that she peed for three minutes straight. And that it was almost orgasmic. How was that for you?” I asked teasingly, trying to get her mind off her belly.

  It’d come with time. But for now, I was grateful for every inch of her body.

  I loved the stretch marks. I loved the extra skin. The chunkiness of her cheeks. The swollen ankles.

  She was mine, and would be for the rest of my life.

  “I haven’t experienced that yet. They took the catheter out just before you came in,” she said lightly, no more tears in her voice. “But I’ll be sure to let you know how that orgasm compares to the ones you give me.”

  I tapped her nose. “Brat.”

  ***

  She ate her cold sandwich and French fries, blissfully happy with her world.

  Who would’ve known that telling your wife that her father in law was currently torturing the man that nearly took her life, could make a woman so damned happy?

  Only my wife.

  “Did you want some of this?” She asked, gesturing towards her bag of cold fries.

  I shook my head. “No. Thanks though, baby.”

  She wrinkled her nose and stuffed another one into her mouth before speaking with her mouth full. “That’s just made my day. Maybe he can send me some pictures.”

  I wasn’t sure if she was joking or not, but I chose to think that she was. Her mom and dad had left to go home for the night once the nurse came in and announced that visiting hours were over.