I had no idea what Bull said to him after that as I let the door swing shut behind me. The truth couldn’t have been a good thing given that I’d fucked his old lady. Twice. But he had to find out sooner or later at some point, I guess. Not sure that would spell anything good for me, but right then I had bigger problems to solve. I needed to find Hope and I needed to keep Stone alive. That was the easy part. Getting him clean and keeping him clean would be the hard part.
I followed Thor around the back of the clubhouse to a small outbuilding. He opened the door and nodded to Ranger, a tall, gangly brother with over twenty facial piercings of various sizes. He was guarding another door in the outbuilding, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Anything?” Thor asked Ranger.
“Nothin’. Checked on him a few minutes ago, but you know I can’t handle puke. Makes me wanna chuck up too,” Ranger replied, lifting his chin and grimacing.
Thor snickered and shook his head. “Fuckin’ pussy.”
“Respect the pussy, man. Pussy ain’t soft, it’s fuckin’ hard. Spittin’ out babies and shit.” Ranger sucked in his bottom lip. “People call each other pussies like it’s a bad thing, an insult. But that ain’t so. Pussies are soft, but also strong, heaven but also hell. So like I said, respect the pussy.”
Thor stared at Ranger with wide eyes before shaking it off. “Whatever, man.” Thor opened the door and we went inside.
The room was dark and dank, with a single barred window that looked like it had never been opened and was almost black with dirt. A single bulb hung from the ceiling and a lone mattress sat in the middle of the room. There was a bucket on its side to the left and a chair in the corner of the room. Barring those things, the room was empty of any home comforts, but the worst thing was the smell. The smell took me back five years to some of the worst times of my life. A coldness burned through me and I took a breath and forced myself to shake off the dark feeling before it overwhelmed me.
“He’s still out,” Thor said, crouching down to a passed-out Stone in the middle of the dirty mattress. Or at least some version of Stone that I barely recognized. “What the fuck are you doing, man?” he muttered to Stone.
I went to him, turning Stone automatically onto his side, and I put him into the recovery position. I made sure his airways were clear while Thor stood back, watching everything I was doing. I checked Stone’s pulse; it was there, but it was sluggish. His eyes were rolled all the way back in his head and he was sweating something fierce, his skin pasty and dirty. But I’d seen much worse than this.
“How long’s he been out?” I asked Thor.
“He stopped throwing up about thirty minutes ago, right about the time he passed out. Almost certain he’s shit himself too.” He looked worried but also uncomfortable about the whole thing. “He gonna be all right? He’s a good kid, don’t deserve to go out like this.”
“Get me some ice water and some cloths. I’ll stay with him and get him through the worst of it the best I can. He needs to be kept on his side for the next couple of hours to stop him from choking on his vomit.” Because he was definitely going to vomit again.
“Don’t think there’s anything left in him to come out,” Thor said, forcing out a dry laugh out.
“You’d be surprised,” I replied, and as if on cue, Stone started to throw up again. I held him on his side no matter how hard he tried to roll onto his back, making sure it all came out and didn’t clog up his airways. “Go get me that water to clean him up.”
Thor nodded and left, and I heard the door lock behind him. I looked down at Stone, wondering how much he’d had to get into such a bad state. My mom had built up a resistance over the years, so it had taken a hell of a lot to get into a mess like this. But Stone was only young, and by the sounds of it he’d only been messing with this shit for a few weeks—maybe less. Still, if there was one thing I knew for certain, it only ever took one hit to get hooked on that stuff.
Stone stopped retching and I finally dragged his limp body backwards so he wasn’t so close to his own vomit. Sweat poured from him and a stench hung around his trembling body. He smelled like death.
“I got you, man. You’re gonna be okay,” I said to him, even though I knew he couldn’t hear me. “Seen enough people in this kinda state before, and I kept them alive. Don’t think I’ll have any problem with keeping you alive either.”
He had gone silent, but when I checked for a pulse I found it. Still weak, but still there, thankfully.
“Gotta tell you, brother, I know you hate being proven wrong, but I told you that shit wasn’t any good for you.” I sat back on my haunches, not wanting to sit on the ground and not being able to leave him in case he rolled onto his back again. “Never mind, you can get pissed off with me about saying I told you so when you wake up. Because you will wake up, brother.”
And for the first time since being with the Highwaymen, I understood what that word meant to these men.Brother. None of us were related, but that didn’t matter. We were related in something so much more than just blood.
We were there for each other.
We protected each other.
And we had each other’s backs. Always.
He was my brother in a way that was stronger than blood. All of those men were.
The realization hit me that when Hammer found out about me and Maria, he would either want me dead or want me gone. And it wasn’t a good feeling. I had just found somewhere I felt like I belonged, and I was probably going to have to leave.
I sat with Stone in that hellish room for forty-eight hours straight. He slipped in and out of consciousness the entire time. But at least there were portions of consciousness. I’d seen my mom and stepdad like that, and I’d been with her when she’d overdosed many times. I had saved her and held her hand when she’d screamed that the Devil was coming for her and her skin was burning her, and I held Stone’s just the same. Even when he begged me to put a bullet in his brain to make the pain go away.
I stayed and I waited it out with him.
Because that’s what family does.
I left there forty-eight hours later. Stone was curled up under his blanket. The worst was over, but his fight was only just beginning.
