I get to the hospital on autopilot. Once I’m inside, I realize I won’t have to play games trying to figure out what name they stashed my dad under. Because General is here, waiting for me. The club probably called him. I should be grateful, but I don’t care.
“Where is he?”
“Ruby, sweetie, you have to listen.”
“Where. Is. He!” I yell in his face, and everyone on the floor turns to look at me.
To his credit, General doesn’t even flinch. I’m sure he’s heard worse.
“This way.” He turns on his heel, and I follow.
We take turns, go up some stairs and down others. I’m not even paying attention. How can I? Twenty minutes ago, I was trying to live a life without Dad, and now I’ve found out he’s alive. In a coma, but alive.
General finally stops at a closed door, opens it, and then steps aside. I take a second, but then I walk through. First thing I notice is Mad Max. He’s here. Which means this is real. It’s all real. Dad’s really here, and he’s alive.
Mad Max was his personal enforcer. A man who did everything for my dad. Who saw him as the reason to get up in the morning, before he met his Fairy. And he’s here. Watching a man who’s lying in a bed with tubes coming out of his mouth and arms.
Dad seems so fragile. A man who was always larger than life is justa shell of what he was. But the beeping? That beautiful noise? Some might find it annoying, but I find it holy.
I bring my hand to my mouth, but I refuse to break. He might not know I’m here, but he can hear me. I have to believe he hears me. So while I hold in my sobs of relief and grief, I move to his bedside.
Mad Max rises but says nothing. The silent watchdog as always. He doesn’t even try to apologize like General did. He just moves aside, and I grab my dad’s hand, tracing the veins along the top of his hand as I let the tears fall.
“Hi, Daddy. I’m here. Your little girl is here. And I’m not going anywhere.” I lean forward and kiss his forehead, then sit on the bed.
I stay there for hours, just watching him breathe through his tubes. I take in everything. And when my stomach protests and my eyelids begin to droop, I rise and look at Mad Max. He never left.
“You can have tonight, but starting tomorrow, you’re out of this room. Only family is allowed in here, and I’m the only one he has. You and the others can go. We don’t need you anymore. We don’t want you. So get lost and stay there.”
I turn to leave, reaching the door before he speaks. “You can be mad. It’s your right. You can disagree with what happened, but it happened. The Hounds won’t be leaving. We’ll give you space, but we ain’t leaving.” He pauses long enough that I look over my shoulder and see him watching Dad. “And he is family. Just like you.”
He turns back to me and holds my stare under his heavy demeanor. The guy has always been scary, but I’ve never felt his full intensity before. It sends a shiver down my spine.
I don’t answer, just turn and walk out, taking my time and memorizing the way out so I can come back in the morning. I find my car and get in, driving home in silence.
And all but ignoring the sound of a motorcycle following me allthe way.
Chapter 21—Kooper
Four months later
Ipour the milk over my second bowl of Cocoa Puffs and let it sit for a second. I like the crunch of the cereal, but I also like the chocolate-tasting milk. Call it a kid food or whatever, but I like it, and I’ll stab anyone who says shit to me about it.
Especially this morning.
I got in about two hours ago. Had an hour of rest before my phone went off, alerting me that she was heading to class. Been up ever since.
“You look like shit,” Casper says as he slides into the seat at the bar next to me. It’s early. Well, early for most brothers. Just after seven in the morning.
“Surprised you got yourself an old lady with the way you say sweet nothings so early in the day,” I grumble before putting another spoonful of goodness in my mouth.
“She likes me for what I don’t say.”
I grunt at his words. I don’t have a response for him, and I’m not sure if he wants me to say anything anyway. Brothers can be weird about talking about their old ladies. Either they can take the trash talk as long as someone doesn’t cross the line, or they can’t. Any of it. It’s all or nothing for them, and any sign of disrespect is met with a fist to the face. And despite how eloquently Casper said it, I look andfeellike shit. No way do I need him to add to it this morning.
Plus, anything this early can be taken the wrong way. Some say it’s worse in the evening, but nah. Drinks flow in the evening—people are looking for a good time then. In the morning? No one wants to deal with shit. “You hear about Domino?” Casper asks.
I nod and swallow what’s in my mouth. “Jumper filled me in.”
