Spun

by Shyla Colt

  He weaves between two cars and slides into an empty parking spot on the side of the street.

  “Call Stone! Call him now.”

  He pulls a cell phone out of his cut and makes the call. “Pres, yeah everything is fine. I was bringing Nevada to the hospital and she freaked out.”

  “Give me the phone, Wheels.” I snatch the device from him. “Stone. We need someone to check on Wizard right now. I think Fuse is in on this thing with Trixie and maybe Steel.”

  “We know, Nevy. People are on their way to the hospital now.”

  It all clicks. “Oh my God! It’s his turn to watch Wizard today, isn’t it? Is Wizard okay?”

  “I don’t have time to talk about this with you. Don’t go to the hospital, Nevy. Last thing we need to worry about is one more person. You understand?”

  Everything in me screams in protest. “You expect me to just sit here and twiddle my thumbs?”

  “I expect you to listen and obey your President.” His voice is distant and cutting in and out. He’s on the move. “I don’t even want you to go home right now. This attack is centered on the two of you. Come to the club. I’m calling lockdown on you. Put Wheels back on.”

  I hand Wheels the phone. The argument is over. The verdict’s been laid down. My head hurts and my stomach is churning like the rapids. I hate the waiting. It’s slow torture.

  “We’re going to the clubhouse, Nevada.”

  “Yeah.” I wrap my arms around his waist and hope for the best. I can’t help anyone if I’m captured and used as collateral. I know what happens to women who get caught up in war. It’s never pretty, and if they do make it out alive, they’re never the same. I try to turn my head off.

  Buildings fly by in a gray blur as Wheels navigates the traffic. He’s speeding and doing tricks, which means we’re being followed or he’s being extra cautious. I turn and look over my shoulder. The cars all blend together in a homogenous background that could easily hide friend or foe. Tiny beads of sweat form on my forehead. Reality sinks in. I could’ve lost my life today if I’d been inside my car. There’s no way to tell how many other presents have been left behind. People with inside information went to our enemies. The fallout could be catastrophic.

  We pull up to the clubhouse and we’re greeted by a handful of prospects at the gate. Security has been tripled. They open the gate and we drive through. I’m barely off the bike before I’m escorted inside. Pres is not taking any chances here. Inside, I see a number of men gathered. They’re gathering for church. My stomach twists itself into knots. “I’m going to head into Wizard’s room.”

  “Probably the best place for you to stay, unless you’re getting food,” Mean says. The grizzly old member has been around forever. His hair is more salt than pepper while his round face is riddled with aging lines and scars. He would scare the shit out of me if I didn’t know him as a grandfatherly figure.

  Unable to speak around the bile rising in my throat, I nod my head and rush past him to the privacy of the empty hallway. Unlocking the combo lock I slip inside. The place still smells like my man. It’s a small comfort in the midst of a storm. I close and lock the door then rush to the bathroom. I fall to my knees just in time to empty my stomach into the toilet. My skin is clammy and the room sways. Closing my eyes I pray for everything to settle. I wipe my forehead, sit back and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. Still woozy, I slowly gain my feet, flush the toilet, and walk over to the sink to brush my teeth and splash water on my face.

  The woman looking back at me in the mirror is ashen with dilated eyes. I look terrified. But I think maybe I earned the right. I stumble to the bed and lay down, fully prepared to take a sadness nap. Closing my heavy eyelids, I pray when I wake up this will all have been just a nightmare.

  Chapter Eight

  Pounding pulls me away from the thick sludge of sleep. I roll onto my back and rub my eyes, struggling to free myself from the bonds of my nap.

  “Nevada, you need to get up. We have to get to the hospital.”

  The words fill me with dread. I push up into a sitting position and move from the bed. Swaying, I grab the bedpost. “I’m up. Give me a second.” I take deep breaths to steady myself, smooth my hair away from my face, and open the door. The sight of my father standing at the door makes my stomach ache. “Dad, what’s going on?”

  “We’re not sure. His numbers are charting. We think he may be trying to wake. You know he’s been responding to light and sound. Today, he actually opened his eyes and vocalized.”

  Excitement hums through my veins. “And the situation?”

  “Is still being handled.” His face darkens.

  They haven’t found them. My disappointment is brief. Wizard might be waking! “I’m ready to go.”

  A weight settles on my chest as we travel to the hospital. Is he waking up? How will he react? What if this is a false alarm? I’m hopeful, yet guarded. There’s so much going on I can’t take another blow. I haven’t even dealt with the complete destruction of my car or the attack on Breezy. Guilt slams into me like a Mac truck. I’m so worried about Wizard, I haven’t even asked about him. He was hurt on my watch, because of me. By the time we reach the parking lot, my stomach is a mess. I place a hand on my tummy and breathe through my mouth.

  “You okay?” Dad asks.

  “Just a lot. Is Breezy okay?”

  His face softens.

  Please don’t say it.

  “He’s going to be okay. No one told you? We called and left a message.”

  “I was asleep. I should’ve asked sooner. God. He was hurt because of me and I couldn’t even been bothered. What does that say about me?”

  “There’s a lot going on right now. You need to keep your head about you. We don’t know how deep this corruption runs. We’re going to be cleaning house. It might get worse before it gets better. I need you to stand strong, you understand? You’re an old lady. People will be looking to you as an example and for guidance.”

  “I know, Dad. I get it,” I say, thinking of all the times I brought my burdens to old ladies in the past.

  “See that you represent The Kings of Chaos the way it should be.”

  There’s a scolding buried in that message. I’m acting like a newbie. I gather my strength and compose myself. I’m Wizard’s old lady and the daughter of Hulk. I have a legacy to live up to. I’ve been through lockdown situations before. The 45ers are small time. We have them by numbers alone. This won’t last long, and when it’s done, we’ll come out on top. I let the words become my mantra as we move into the hospital and I hold my head high.

  Our presence is strong in the hospital. I see members everywhere. It gives me peace of mind. They’re showing up for Wizard in a big way. Stone has always been on top of things. If he trusts them, I do too. Odds are, he’s been waiting for this to play out. There was no surprise in his voice on the phone earlier.

  We take the car to the third floor. The elevator comes to a halt with a mocking ding that sounds like the starting signal for the most important race of my life. My palms are sweaty and my muscles are tense. I focus on the KOC emblem on the back of my father’s vest as I follow the path he makes down the hallway.

  He stops at the door and knocks.

  It swings open to reveal three prospects who are due to get patched in at the end of the week. They’ve proven their loyalty, so I understand the logic of placing them here.

  “How about we let her have time with her old man?” Dad says.

  “Yeah, of course, Hulk.” They walk out.

  My dad lingers. “His brain activity and pulse spiked. One of the prospects said he thought he saw his fingers move. The doctors have been in and out monitoring him. They’re encouraged. We’ll be around in the hallway. We wanted to give you a little time alone.” He shrugs.

  It’s nice seeing him as a father figure. I reach out, grab his hand, and squeeze.

  The corners of his lips flicker upward. He pats my hand and takes his leave.

 
I pull up a navy blue chair and hold Wizard’s hand. “I hear the Wizard is ready to come back from Oz. I have to tell you we missed you, and we’ve had no shortage of action. Fuse finally went off the deep end. I don’t know the details, but I think he had something to do with your accident.” I continue to talk to him about everything that comes to mind. Suddenly, his arm twitches. I release his hand and stand up. “Gage, can you hear me?” I whisper.

  He moans. His eyelids flicker and he blinks rapidly.

  I press the call button and pick up the phone to the front desk.

  “Front desk.”

  “Gage Carmody is waking up from his coma.”

  “We’ll get someone down to you right now.”

  Uncertain what to do, I wring my hands as I wait. The guttural sounds coming from his throat are alarming. Is he in pain? “I’m right here next to you. Can you hear me?” I grab his hand.

  He twitches. His eyes open, but the expression in them is vacant, as if he sees something in the distance.

  “If you can hear me, please squeeze my hand, babe.”

  He complies and my heart soars.

  “Welcome back from Oz, Wizard.”

  The next hour is a blur of visitations, tests, and an increase in response from Wizard. He continues to respond to commands. We’ve learned it’s like trying to wake from a million year sleep on his end and the slow waking is normal. It’s an unspoken agreement with the Pres that I’ll be posted in his room until he’s back.

  I smack my lips as I struggle to lift my heavy lids. It must’ve been some bender, because I can’t remember shit from the night before. I go to stretch my arms and something pulls. I feel around and find a tube. What the hell? I tug at it and force my eyes open.

  “No, don’t pull on it, Gage.”

  The familiar voice gives me pause.

  “You were in an accident. You’ve been unconscious for the past month.”

  “Nevy?” I croak.

  “Yes.”

  The joy in her voice tells me they were worried.

  “Just relax. The doctor will be here any moment.”

  I open my eyes and wince. The light is a painful blast to my retinas. I close them again. When Nevada leans over me, her long hair tickles my face. She smells floral and feminine. Why is she so touch feely? It’s not like her. She smoothes the hair back from my forehead. It’s oddly comforting.

  “Mr. Carmody, welcome back to the world of the living. I’m Dr. Robertson. We’re going to dim the lights and see what we have here.”

  Nevada steps away and I miss her immediately. How long have I been asleep that I’m so desperate for familiarity?

  The doctor lifts my lids and shines a pin light in my eyes.

  I cringe. It’s painful, but tolerable.

  “Good. You’re here with us again. You’ve been in a coma for about a month, and over the past week or so, you’ve been waking little by little. I’m going to slowly lift the bed.”

  I smack my lips.

  “Ms. Nevada, you can offer him a drink now. I want you to sip very slowly. Don’t take too much. Your throat will be sore. We removed the tube two days ago, but you might feel it.”

  I feel a straw pressed to my lips and I part them to take a tiny sip. The cool drink is heaven to my desert dry mouth. My throat is raw and scratched, as he predicted.

  “Can you try to open your eyes for me?”

  I slowly lift my lids, relieved when the light doesn’t feel like a laser. The images are blurry. I can make out a round face with glasses and a white lab coat.

  “You may have trouble focusing, but that’s normal. Perhaps, you’d appreciate something prettier to look at.”

  Nevada leans closer. Her smile is so bright, I can make it out despite the blurring.

  “I’m so glad you’re really awake this time. There’s so much I need to say.”

  Her words make me frown.

  “I don’t want to bombard you with visitors, but I will leave you two alone for a few moments while I go order some tests,” the doctor says.

  Nevada touches my face gently. “It’s so good to see you awake.”

  “Must be bad,” I croak.

  “No, you were very lucky. Let me get you more water.”

  I take a few more sips and the liquid lubricates my throat. After taking the cup back she sits on the edge of my bed. I narrow my eyes, trying to see her face. What the hell is going on with her?

  “I missed you, Gage.”

  My given name on her lips stuns me.

  I open my mouth to speak and she presses her lips to mine.

  Sensing my hesitation, she pulls away. “What’s wrong?”

  “You tell me, Nevy? The hell?”

  She gasps. “You don’t remember?”

  “What?”

  “N-nothing. Let me go tell Stone you woke up.” She leaves.

  My head is throbbing. I close my eyes and feel the darkness take me away.

  I wake again, feeling more alert.

  “Wizard?”

  I turn and look beside me. In the darkened room, I can make out Nevada’s slender form. I vaguely remember her presence the last time I surfaced.

  “Do you know why you’re here?” she asks. The legs of her chair scrape across the floor.

  “A-accident,” I cough the words out.

  “Yes.” She holds out a cup offering up a straw.

  I blink, trying to bring the item into focus.

  “Do you remember me from last time?”

  “Kind of,” I admit, accepting the plastic offering. I take a small sip and sigh. The relief is instant.

  “I’ll get the doctor. They expect you’ll be in and out—disoriented for a few days. Stone wanted me to keep him up to date on what’s happening. He’ll be up here soon.”

  “How long?”

  “Since the last time you woke? A few days.”

  I grunt. It’s about all I have the energy to do.

  “Your vitals look good and your leg is healing well.”

  Her words bring my attention to the cast on my left leg. It’s hard to stay focused and I’m already starting to feel drained.

  “Don’t push it, Gage. It’ll do more damage than harm. It’ll come back to you.” She moved the cup. “I’ll go let someone know you’re awake.”

  There’s something in her voice I don’t like. Something pained. I wonder again why they have her on watch duty. Maybe because I’d bite anyone else’s heads off?

  “Do you remember me, Mr. Carmody?”

  Doctor Robertson. “Doc.”

  “That’s right, I’m Dr. Robertson. You’ve been in and out of it for the past seventy-two hours. Each time, you’ve been a bit more cognitive, which is good. Your vitals are good, but it’s going to take time to get back on your feet. You haven’t used your body for over a month.”

  His words give me a sense of déjà vu and I wonder how many times he’s said this very thing. I feel like I’m missing something. I frown as agitation sets in, causing me to squirm.

  “I’ve said this to your…friends. Don’t try to force the memories. It’ll bring more harm than good. We’ll take it slow and easy.”

  My chest heaves and I grind my teeth.

  “How about we give you something to rest?” He presses a series of buttons and before I can protest, I’m feeling too good to remember why I was pissed off in the first place.

  Chapter Nine

  They say when it rains it pours. That doesn’t begin to cover the mess I find myself smack dab in the middle of. Tension is running high as we wait for more attacks, and Wizard’s recovery is a daily punch to the heart. The past year has been wiped from his brain. To him, I’m just Hulk’s daughter turned caretaker. He’s easily agitated when it comes to things he can’t recall, and if he strains himself the migraines start. The doctor can’t tell us how permanent the memory loss will be. He thinks we’re lucky. Relatively speaking, I suppose he’s right. Everything else seems to be there and he’s progressing.

  The c
harade though, is eating me up from the inside out. Stone wants me to wait till he’s back on his feet to bring up the fact that I’m his old lady. I can respect that, but it doesn’t make it any easier. On a constant basis, I see Wizard looking at me with no recollection of our relationship. It’s been a painful few weeks. Today, he’s coming home. The time to come clean has arrived.

  I’m not ready.

  I study myself in the mirror turning to the left and the right. I’m wearing my favorite pair of jeans and T-shirt. The stress is taxing my system. I’ve been sick more days out of the week than not. I turn away from the reflective surface and walk down the stairs. The party will be at the clubhouse, but I wanted to welcome him home. Part of me hopes once he’s back in a familiar environment, his memories will return. The doctor told us it can happen that way. The welcome home banner is hung, our bar has been stocked, and the house looks immaculate.

  The rumble of motorcycles pulling up front has my blood pressure spiking. With his broken leg and limbs that were still shaky, he had to be brought home in a cage. His swearing had alerted everyone on the third floor about his feelings on that requirement. It was disconcerting seeing him so quick to anger. It wasn’t in his personality. Well, the old one. The doctors assured us it was normal. It doesn’t change the fact that I fear this new him. I’m anxious and uncertain how he’ll respond to the situation we’ll be unveiling. The bikes grow quiet. I shove my hands in the pockets of the jeans, rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet. The top lock turns and I slap on a smile. “Surprise.”

  His brow furrows. “Not that I don’t appreciate all you’ve done for me, Nevy. But you really don’t have to take the nurse maid thing to heart.”

  The old nickname is an abrasion to my heart.

  “That’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about,” Stone says. He clamps his hand on Wizard’s shoulder as they continue into the house.