Tears filled her eyes, and she pressed a fist to her mouth to keep it still. Thoughts full of anger, worry, justification, confusion, and fear circled in her mind like a merry-go-round, and she wanted to scream, cry, or both at the same time. She swallowed the ball of emotions, leaving them sitting in her gut like a lump of iron ore. “Should… should I go there?”
“It’s up to you. No judgment from me.”
“I, um… I think I will. What’s the address?”
Cam’s voice calmed some of the chaos in her brain. “You’re at work, right? Got your helmet?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not far from the club. I’ll come get you, yeah?”
“You don’t have to?—”
He interrupted her with a gentle but firm tone. “I don’t have to do a damn thing, but I’m going to. Stay put. I’ll be right there.”
CHAPTER
EIGHT
The sprawling hospitaltook up more than a city block with its multiple buildings and parking structures. Cam drove past the deck and parked at the convenience store across the street. Sabrina rode comfortably behind him. His awareness of her arms around him lingered even after she dismounted from the bike, but at the moment, they had bigger things to worry about. He said a few words to the day manager to keep an eye on his bike. A hundred-dollar bill helped. He still didn’t like leaving it there, but it was safer than the parking deck. Anyone who recognized his bike might want to mess with it. Until the club figured out what was happening in their area, vigilance remained a priority.
The ER’s waiting room was full of people, but they gave a wide berth to the two bikers who stood in full regalia near the entrance. Cam approached with Sabrina’s hand tucked firmly in his. “What’d they say?”
Quillon gave a big sigh. “Not a lot. EKG is normal, so they don’t think it’s his heart, but his blood pressure is through the roof. They’re running more tests.”
Baghouse grunted and picked at a dry cuticle. “Last time he was in a hospital, he’d just had the accident. Hell, not even the kidney stones made him come here.”
Quillon blinked. “When did he have kidney stones?”
“He’s had ’em a couple times. Once last year. Pretty fuckin’ bad,” Baghouse answered gruffly.
The door to the cubicles opened, and colorful curses floated through.
“Gawddammit! Don’t you fuckin’ stick another needle in me!”
A corner of Quillon’s mouth twitched. “Yeah, he’s not exactly cooperating. A heart attack sounds right to me.”
Sabrina grunted. “You have to have a heart before you can have a heart attack. I bet his is missing.”
Cam heard her words, but her rigid posture belied the notion that she didn’t care. One glance at her fidgeting hands confirmed she felt this deeply. Perhaps she was worried she wouldn’t get her answers if Scrap suddenly died, but Cam didn’t buy that idea. Sabrina didn’t strike him as a selfish mercenary. She might be mad as hell at the old man, but she didn’t wish him ill.
“Convenient as it is, I don’t think now is the time to ask about that cheek swab. He’s likely to bite your head off, chew it, and swallow before you got the words out,” Quillon stated.
“I wasn’t planning on it, sugar,” Sabrina returned. “I’m not gonna kick a man while he’s down, even if heisan asshole. I do want to know, though. As soon as possible.”
“I get that. When he’s stable and in a better mood, I’ll talk to him and see if he’ll take the test. Right now, he’s snapping and growling like a street dog, but I’m betting this episode or whatever it is scared him too.”
The doors opened and a young man in scrubs came through, peeling off his mask as he approached. “Family for Walter… uh… Scrap?”
Quillon lifted a finger. Sabrina stayed silent, but her grip on Cam’s hand tightened.
“We need to keep your friend overnight. There’s minor fluid buildup around his heart and lungs, and we’d like to get that inflammation under control before we send him home.”
Cam’s mouth tightened into a grim line as he listened to the doctor, who looked all of twelve years old. “So, what does that mean? Did he have a heart attack after all?”
The kid shook his head. “No, the EKG and enzymes show no cardiac arrest, but the extra fluid is concerning. There are some possible serious conditions like congestive heart failure or a diabetes complication, or it could be from injury or a benign tumor. We don’t know yet. He’ll stay here for observation, and we’ll keep you as informed as we can. The patient does not want to share his personal information, and under HIPAA, we have to honor his privacy.”
A nurse came up and grabbed the doctor’s attention as he turned away from the group of bikers.
