The emergency room doors burst open.
Moses rushes in, still wearing his cut, his eyes wide and sweeping as he scans the room. They land on me, the lone person in the waiting room, and he stops dead.
Our gazes have connected, and suddenly it clicks for him the way it did for me. My grim face says it all.
“No,” he chokes out. “No… FUCK!”
He spins around and kicks one of the waiting room chairs so hard it flips over, crashing against the wall. The sound is jarring and violent, plastic bouncing off plaster.
“FUCK!” he repeats even louder.
But he’s not the only one exploding with emotion—a rush of hot anger hits me as Moses curls his fists and looks like he’s about to rage some more.
“He died at the hands of Tom Cutler!” I yell, bouncing onto my feet. “The same Tom Cutleryou’vebeen following around like a loyal dog!”
Moses whirls to face me, his expression best described as a range of emotions. Everything from his own temper running free to confusion I’d blow up on him like this.
“Yeah, you want the truth, Moses?” I ask, refusing to back down. Instead, I take a step toward him. “Tom was working with the Road Rebels all along! He’s been sabotaging the club, working with Wheels, trying to destroy everything from the inside! And you—you chose his side!”
“Solana—”
“Don’t!” I scream. “Don’t you dare try to explain yourself! Uncle Eddie is dead because of him! Because you followed the wrong man and chose the wrong side! You had the face to judge me for dating Silver, but you were the one who was never there—you were never around and when you were, you were following the man trying to destroy us!”
It’s as I’m finishing screaming at him that I realize we’re no longer alone. A nurse has stepped through the doors and froze up at the confrontation she’s stumbled on.
“Um...” She clears her throat, clutching her clipboard. “Ms. Youngblood? I just wanted to let you know that Mr. Kingman is out of surgery. He’s stable and can see visitors now.”
I take a shaky breath, trying to rein myself in. “Oh… um, thanks. I’ll go see him.”
I shoot one last glare at my brother, then stride out of the waiting room without looking back.
I wipe at my eyes as I make my way down the hospital corridor. Tears keep slipping down my cheeks no matter how many times I brush them away.
It’s like losing Dad all over again. Unc was the closest thing to a father I’ve had since.
It’s just another wound that’s fresh and raw and bleeding inside me.
But as I come up to Silver’s room, I am able to draw a breath and remind myself he’s going to be okay. He’s survived, and I’m so beyond grateful that he has.
I hold onto that thought like a lifeline, letting it calm me as I gently tap at the door and then step inside.
Mason, Logan, and Sydney are already there, gathered around Silver’s bed in the middle of a conversation. They all look exhausted—the guys worn down by battle and Sydney by worry—but everyone’s in one piece.
It seems both Mason and Logan have a few minor injuries from the fight against the Road Rebels, bruises and bandages visible.
Everyone looks up as I enter.
Sydney’s expression softens with sympathy. “Hey. I heard about Eddie. I’m so sorry, Solana.”
I nod, unable to speak due to the lump of emotion stuck in my throat.
“How about we head to the cafeteria like we talked about? Finally grab some food?” Sydney asks the other two.
“Being in gunfights tends to work up an appetite,” Logan agrees.
The three of them file out, each offering me a small, sympathetic nod as they pass. Sydney pauses to touch my shoulder, and then she’s gone too, the door snicking shut behind her.
Now it’s just me and Silver and the weight of everything that’s happened pressing down on the room.
