Within half an hour, Beast, Tundra, Mom, Dad, Volt, and Aunt Jackie had arrived. Even though their presence should have given me comfort, I forced myself to ignore the many people who were there. It only reminded me that one gunshot wound to the chest posed a tough challenge to overcome. Two gunshot wounds made that challenge almost insurmountable.
I couldn’t think that way. It didn’t serve any purpose.
I stared out a nearby window.
Warm hands hit my knees and I faced forward.
Razor squatted in front of me. “I told him not to hurt you, you know.”
I shot him a stern look. “Hedidn’t do this to me. Someone else - very likely Porter - shot him, so really Porter’s the one who hurt me.”
Razor gave my knees a squeeze. “Yeah. You’re right. And logical, like your mom.”
I swallowed hard and gave a short head-shake.
He returned my stern look. “Don’t deny it. You’re just as strong and resilient as your mom. You keep the faith. I’m telling you, he’s gonna be all right. What’s happening with this punk named Porter?”
“He got shot in the leg, and they brought him here, too.”
A twinkle hit Razor’s eyes. “If you want me to take care of him, say the word, sweetie.”
I almost smiled, but Razor reminded me of how Rafferty insisted that I was ruthless. Looking back, spending time with Razor, Tennille, and Sally Mae, Razor’s daughter from his first marriage - that influenced me to be ruthless, too.
“Where’s Tennille?” I asked.
He stood. “Working. She’s sending you both positive energy. My offer stands. Don’t forget it.”
I watched him walk away, and taking in the whole waiting room, I saw the number of people here for Rafferty had doubled. Blood, Abby, Vamp, Rainey, Gabriella, Yak, Nora, Punc, and Liar were milling about on the far edge of the room.
“Rolland,” a doctor in green scrubs called out from the mouth of the hallway.
“That’s us,” Roll said, moving toward the doctor.
Trixie grabbed my hand, stood, which forced me to stand, and took me with her across the room.
“We’ve removed the bullet from his lung. It didn’t fragment when it entered his body,” the doctor said.
I squeezed Trixie’s hand, and inhaled deep.
“He’s very lucky that the bullet missed his ribs and any major arteries. It will take time for his lung to heal. His condition is serious, but stable. He will be closely monitored over the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours,” the doctor continued.
“But he’ll live?” Roll asked.
The doctor’s head swiveled in an almost-circular nod. “Barring any complications or infections, he should recover.”
“Wait. Wasn’t there a second bullet?” I asked.
“Based on the flesh wound along the lateral side of his torso, the second bullet grazed him. We’ve stitched up the resulting wound. He was also given a blood transfusion because of the blood loss.”
When I inhaled, my breath hitched with a slight sob. Trixie squeezed my hand and bumped her shoulder into mine.
“When can we see him?” Trixie asked.
“He’s in recovery. We’re moving him to ICU due to his serious condition. I’ll send a nurse out when you can see him. One at a time.”
I turned around. All of the Riot MC brothers were huddled close by. Beyond them, I saw the sliding glass doors open, and Nate strode over to us.
I skirted around the group to him. “Are you okay? Did…the others figure out who you are?”
