Harrison (Devil's Flame MC Book 4)
Page 7
The room went dark, and just before he lost total consciousness, he wondered if this would be the way he died, alone and breathless on a bathroom floor. It would probably serve him right.
If someone didn’t find him, he thought briefly as his eyes rolled back in his head and sounds came from a far off distance, he would die here, and he’d never even make it home. He faded in and out several times, but he caught the crashing of a door, familiar voices saying things like, alcohol poisoning and too much liquor and cut him off.
And then he was jostled completely awake as there was pushing and pulling and prodding that hurt like a son of a bitch and made his head roar. He groaned in agony and opened his eyes a slit to see that he was surrounded by paramedics as they loaded him onto a gurney, several of his club brothers gathered round behind the emergency crew. He blinked and turned his head, wincing at the bright red and blue lights that felt like knives in his skull. He knew it had to be bad if he was being taken to the hospital. Harrison had been drunk before but couldn’t remember ever being as drunk or as sick as he was at that moment.
As if in response, his stomach rumbled, and he heaved, one of the EMTs reaching out with a bag to catch the mess just in time. This was not just miserable, it was fucking embarrassing, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he vowed never to get this wasted again.
Hooked up to IVs of fluid and having retched enough to get some of the alcohol out of his system, reality came flooding forward, making him just as nauseated as his idiotic pursuit to drown it out. He knew the other guys would have to go back without him, and Skye would most likely find out about him being in the hospital, though her first thought would probably be that he was injured or killed on the run. Neither was a great scenario, and he wondered if she was going to care.
He didn’t understand why he worried so much about what she thought, considering how he’d left things with her the last time they had spoken. It was all too much, and he had a lot of recovering to do from this royal fuck up. He passed out again as they headed to the hospital and didn’t wake up again until he was being checked out in the emergency room. The doctors started their assessment, and he was poked and prodded some more. Needles and fluid, blood tests, and a bunch of meds going through him making him queasy, until they finally added something for nausea. Just when he thought he was going out again, voices started ringing in his ears.
“Sir, are you hurting anywhere?” the doctor asked as he shone a bright light into Harrison’s eyes. He flinched, the light blinding him and stabbing through his head. What the fuck were they doing and why? He was alive, wasn’t he? He just wanted to sleep it off and get home.
“Only when you shine that bright ass light in my eyes,” he groused, his voice raspy and his throat burning. But he hadn’t lost his smartass attitude in the midst of all this.
He groaned as the doctor laughed. “Does your stomach hurt or feel upset?” the doctor asked. This time he pushed on Harrison’s belly, and he jumped a little. It was definitely tender and felt swollen. “We could pump your stomach to make sure we get any of the substances you swallowed that haven’t come back up.”
Offended at the insinuation, Harrison lifted a hand and knocked him away. “Check the blood draw, Doc. I don’t do pills or drugs. It was just too much goddamn alcohol, okay? Rough night.”
“I see,” the doctor replied, eyeing him carefully. “Sir, have you had any suicidal thoughts lately?”
Oh, great, they thought he meant to kill himself. “No, but I’m starting to feel a bit homicidal with all these ridiculous questions. Can I just sleep this off and go home?”
Crossing his arms and huffing out a deep breath, the doctor stared at him, and Harrison could read the judgment on his face. He probably looked like hell, smelled worse, and was the epitome of the motorcycle riding troublemaker image that warranted the doubt this doctor felt. “I’m going to wait for the results of your blood test, and we’ll keep you overnight, but all things coming out clear, you can go home sometime tomorrow.” Scrubbing a hand over his face, he walked out of the room, calling over his shoulder, “You’re lucky to have the friends you do. Much longer, and you would have died.”
Great. Just the confirmation he needed. With a grunt, he laid back on the cot to await the next steps, letting his body finally start to relax as the meds took effect. What he’d done was pure stupidity, and he knew better than to take things this far. He should have stopped sooner, but he had enjoyed the way his head had quieted as the liquor built up. And by the time he realized how far gone he was, having pounded too much too fast, it was too late to avoid the consequences.
On top of a near death experience, he’d also screwed himself in other ways. He knew that this would complicate things with Skye even more, and he wanted to kick himself in the ass. He was ashamed of himself for letting feelings get in the way of acting like a responsible adult. And worse, he’d let those same feelings cut into his typical party behavior. He was used to being able to fuck any girl he wanted, and now Skye was so deep under his skin, Harrison couldn’t even let a hot girl kiss him. She was killing his erections with the way she’d planted herself in his thoughts, and he couldn’t get it under control. He was going to have to do something to fix that because he had a reputation to uphold.
Eventually, when he was in his room for the night, Harrison looked out the open window, feeling older than his years and exhausted. And the yearning in his chest didn’t help matters as he wondered what Skye was doing at that moment. He tried to shake her from his thoughts, but it was a moot point. He closed his eyes and tried to force himself to go to sleep, but that wasn’t going to work, either. He kept reliving that sinking feeling as his breath stopped and the darkness closed in around him, death knocking at his door. It was an irrational fear; the doctor had cleared him and told him he would be fine. But he was still terrified that he would die in his sleep, the trauma too new and too real to ignore. He stared at the ceiling for hours before his body finally gave in around the first sign of dawn and let him drift off to sleep.
Harrison woke briefly, with the errant thought that he could sleep for days and wondered if the hospital would let him do just that. It might help him get himself together before he had to go back and eventually, as bad as he was dreading it, face Skye. But that was a fleeting thought as he fell back into unconsciousness.
He woke with a start as a nurse came to take his vitals. Once he realized that it was only a nurse, he laid back and closed his eyes, barely registering her presence as she muttered to herself and did her job. He groaned and turned over on his side as she left the room, his IV monitor beeping briefly in offense at the movement. Then, it quieted, and he tried to go back to sleep.
This time, he dreamt of Skye’s face, a disturbing haunted expression she wore as he stared at her through a haze. Harrison opened his eyes and sighed in frustration. How was he ever going to get any rest with visions of her dancing behind his eyelids? Especially with that judgmental look.
Giving up, he stared at the ceiling some more, waiting for breakfast to come.
8
Skye finished her set for the third night in a row with no sign of Harrison. She knew that their little exchange the other day had frustrated him and infuriated her, but she had no idea it would make him disappear without a trace. She’d considered asking Eli or one of the other guards about him, but she didn’t want to express that sort of interest. She was still angry, and she didn’t need anyone pestering her about her interest in the guy.
Of course, people talked, and all she had to do was keep her ears open to get some news. She heard earlier in the evening that there had been a protection run and that he had volunteered to go, but the others had gotten back already. She tried not to worry about the fact that Harrison had not returned with the rest of the crew, and refused to ask about him, but for some reason she just couldn’t explain, she was concerned and anxious and had tried her best to finish her performances tonight without letting the distraction affect her stage
presence or her ability. She was relieved when it was finally over, and she headed to the bar for her nightly drink. She figured she could at least trust Charlie not to ask too many questions if she hedged around the subject of the bad boy biker she loved to hate.
“Hey Charlie, I’ll have my usual, if you don’t mind,” she said as she scooted onto a bar stool.
Charlie handed her the drink and looked at her quizzically. Skye thought he was going to ask her something, but he just continued to look at her until she finally looked back at him. “What is it, Charlie?” she asked him.
He grinned at her a bit sheepishly as he catered to a couple of customers, and then sidled back down the bar and stood in front of her. His eyes danced with mischief, and she suddenly wasn’t sure she wanted him to answer her question as he leaned on the bar with his elbows and spoke so low she almost did not hear him. “You’ve been distracted lately. And your eyes are darting all over the place, even when you’re on stage. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re searching for something. Or someone.”
She smiled and brushed it off with a wave of her hand, despite the nerves she felt building in her chest. Was it so obvious to her clientele? She hoped not. “I am absolutely fine, Charlie. I’m just wondering if all my usuals are here, and when my best customer will be back. He can’t be in the hospital forever.” It was a good story to cover for searching the crowd, one that explained away her attempt to catch sight of the absent Harrison finally waltzing through the door with that cocky stroll of his.
Even as she spoke, Eli strode in, and her stomach sank. He’d gone on the run, as well, and here he was, back in business with security. So where was Harrison? She hated to think that something may have happened to him, but wouldn’t the others be talking about it if tragedy had struck?
Her imagination was getting the best of her. Eli would know where Harrison was. All she had to do was swallow a little pride and ask. She downed her drink to wash down the pain of it and headed over to the table where Eli had just planted his ass in a chair. She was determined to get answers, one way or another. Eli and his entourage watched her walk over, and she knew they were sizing her up. All but Eli, whose eyes remained above the neck. It didn’t matter, though. All they were going to get from her was a peek at her in her Kimono. If they happened to catch a glance at her skin as the material shifted, that would be a bonus for them.
“Eli, I need to talk to you for a moment please. Privately,” she said, glancing meaningfully at the group of men as she headed for the back hallway where Harrison always made his grand entrances. She even missed the long bang like a shotgun as the door slammed against the wall with the force of his shove.
She felt the others still following her with their gazes until she slipped through the door and they couldn’t see her anymore, but she was pretty sure they were still ogling her ass and drooling like wild animals to the last second. She led the way to the back office and spun around to face Eli.
Eli didn’t speak much, and even now, he only assessed her with a quirked brow in question, looking a bit irritated that she had interrupted his drinking time. Or maybe he was just tired. She obviously had no idea what had gone down during their ride out, and she wasn’t going to ask for details, unless they related to Harrison.
“Didn’t Harrison go on that run with you?” she asked as she folded her arms in front of her.
Eli ran his fingers through his hair and nodded. But she recognized the gesture. He’d been around here too long for her to mistake it for anything other than absolute nerves. She could tell he didn’t want to answer the questions he knew she’d ask next, and that didn’t bode well. What had happened to shake Eli?
Skye stood in front of him and waited for an explanation, but he wasn’t going to budge unless she pushed with specific inquiries. The look on her face should have told him she meant business. She wanted to know where Harrison was, and Eli was going to tell her whether he wanted to or not. But she also knew him well enough to know she’d have to go fishing and wrench it out of him.
“Come on Eli, I know that you know where he is. Why won’t you tell me? Has he told you not to?” she asked him after a moment of silence. When he didn’t answer, she asked, “Did something happen? Was there trouble on the road? A raid?”
Eli once again ran his fingers through his hair as he looked around like he was trying to find a way to escape. And then he literally tried to step around her. She blocked his way, sidestepping so she was in front of him again. He tried a second time, but she wasn’t going to let him pass. Every time he moved to go around her, she moved to block him. She was not letting him out of her sight without getting answers, especially now that he was behaving so oddly. Eli wasn’t the type to run away. He was a straight shooter and painfully honest.
Eli finally looked at her and sighed, giving in to the fact that her persistence meant he had no other choice. “No, he didn’t tell anyone not to tell you where he is. I just know you, and I don’t want you to freak out,” he said as he tried to get around her again.
Scoffing and glaring at him, she cut off his path. “No, Eli!” she exclaimed. “You are not going anywhere until I know where Harrison is! Now, answer me before I have to beat it out of you!”
He groaned, obviously realizing that she meant business, and he was not going to get away from her without coming clean.
“Fine. The night after the run, there was a party at a house we own out that way. He drank himself stupid and landed in the hospital with a nearly fatal case of alcohol poisoning.” He flinched, as if bracing for her reaction, and it was probably a good thing she didn’t tend toward violence unless directly provoked. She was absolutely furious and ready to freak out, as expected.
“Are you fucking kidding me? You guys just left him there alone? How is he going to get back here? I cannot believe you guys just left him there by himself! What if he died? What happened to you all being brothers, you lousy jackass? You’re nothing but a bunch of arrogant assholes!” she ranted, pacing around the room before she stormed away. A million thoughts ran through her head as she stomped off. Mostly, she wondered why the hell the MC loyalty had failed. The fucking idiots acted like the cared nothing for Harrison.
“We stayed until we knew he was going to live, Skye! Some of us had families to come home to,” Eli called after her. He never raised his voice, so she knew he was offended. “And Rafe’s going back out in the morning to check on him.”
She made her way back to the dressing room, ignoring his explanations. Or excuses. It depended on how you looked at it. She shoved her kimono into her locker and put her clothes on before heading back to the bar to tell Charlie where she was going. Of course, she had to figure out exactly where that was, but she could make a couple of phone calls and head in the general direction. She had no idea why she was going to go to him, but she felt a magnetic pull telling her to go and check on Harrison.
“Harrison needs help, Charlie, and I’m going to see what I can do,” she stated flatly. He looked like he might object, but something in her expression must have stopped him because he flattened his lips together and shrugged. With a curt nod, she rushed out the door and toward her car.
Skye headed out, dialing Rory, her only real contact that would give her any information, and demanded she text the address of the hospital where Harrison was being held. She barely heard Rory’s warning to just wait till morning, that Harrison would be released early tomorrow. She didn’t want to wait. It didn’t matter if it would be the middle of the night before she got there.
She pulled the address up on GPS and put the pedal to the floor. She normally didn’t speed, but this was an exception. It was going to take hours, and as she drove through the night, thoughts swirled through her head. What if Harrison had died? If he had, the last thing between them would have been a fight, a nasty argument in which she’d been exasperated and hateful toward him. She couldn’t stand the thought of that, of how she’d left things with him. She knew she was terrible abou
t holding grudges, and sure, the money he had cost her was important. But in the long run, was it better to have people you cared about in your life or to have a wad of cash?
The answer was clear, even if she didn’t like the admission that she cared about Harrison. Knowing she needed to sort this out – not only how she’d handled their disagreement but also what she was feeling – she followed the directions on GPS and pushed the gas pedal down even farther. She didn’t pay attention to the speedometer; she knew she was easily doing ninety and didn’t want to slow down until she got to the city limits. Acknowledging her speed would only slow her down.
By the time she rolled into town, the sun was peeking out from behind the clouds, and relief flooded her as she let out a breath she must have been holding for hours. She’d made it. She pulled into the parking lot and found the closest spot, not caring how far away from the door she was. She just wanted to get out and run inside. She flung her car door shut and locked it. She hurried to the front desk and waited impatiently for the receptionist to get off the phone and notice her standing there, tapping her nails on the counter and quirking a brow when the nurse frowned at her in annoyance. After waiting what seemed like forever, she finally hung up the phone and looked at Skye.
“May I help you, miss?” she asked, her voice dripping with irritation.
“I’m looking for a friend of mine. Harrison—” She realized in that moment she didn’t even know his last name. Hell, maybe Harrison was his last name. closing her eyes and shaking her head, she explained, “He came in with alcohol poisoning last night.,” she told the nurse.