“Yeah, he’s stable…for now. But I don’t know. Two hours is a lot with a neck wound.” Spence shakes his head and it feels like he’s fighting himself every step of the way before making a decision. “Fine, but only because I don’t think it’s the artery.”
Then Spence looks right at me and waits for me to stop freaking out. “He needs you to stay calm. If you lose your shit, Grinder, mistakes will be made.”
I nod even though I have no idea what mistakes I might make, which is actually freaking me out even more because…am I supposed to be doing something?
Then I feel two hands on my shoulders, grounding me, giving me a sense of calm. I look up and see Parker’s beautiful, albeit battered—which I will come back to when this fucking drama is over—face staring right back at me.
“You’re alright, babe. We got this.”
Yeah, we do. All three of us have got this.
Yeah, we don’t have shit.
First, the van got stuck halfway to our spot, which meant we had to carry Boner the other half of the way. Then, we had to keep his body from rolling around in that fucking van the whole time we went over roots and branches and shit.
But the fun part was trying to fit my best friend in the back of Spencer’s tiny fucking car. The only way to keep Boner’s head stable and with constant pressure on his wound was to sit Spencer with his back to the car door and Boner propped up between his legs, upper body slightly elevated. The whole situation is fucking crazy and I’m going out of my mind with worry. My only saving grace is knowing my Doc will do everything in his power to save my best friend even though Hoops’s orders for us to drive to Rockford Beach only makes it that much harder to keep Boner alive.
I mean, I get it. Going to the hospital there, in bumfuck-we-don’t-know-where, with a bullet wound to the neck would have been more than risky. It would’ve put our entire club injeopardy. But holy shit, the ride back was Hell, and that’s just the good parts…like the straight stretches of road.
And did I mention I have a hole in my ass that’s not the normal, fun one? I rode two hours, going full throttle, with a searing pain nearly making me pass out.
By the time we made it back to Rockford Beach—in record time because Parker is fucking insane—we ride up to the ER and put Boner in the right hands and let Spence do all the talking.
“Male, early thirties, GSW to the neck, missed the carotid. Pulse is weak but steady, breaths are shallow.” And that’s all he had since he didn’t come in with the rig. I can only imagine the frustration.
Meanwhile, Hoops is on the phone with the sheriff, giving him a heads up.
This is why we have a close financial relationship with the police. The investigation cannot go any further than this because there are bodies up there and Kincaid and Jonesy are cleaning that shit up as we sit here.
Once I park my bike, put the kickstand in place, and swing my leg around so I can follow Boner’s stretcher, I realize I’m not okay.
My foot hits the ground seconds before my entire body collapses.
Well, shit. This ain’t good.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Spencer
“Doc! Get over here!” Oh, good grief. What now?
When I turn around, I see Shade running over to me but the double glass doors have just closed and I can’t hear him. As soon as they open up again, all I hear is, “Grinder’s down.”
This whole time, I’ve been on EMT mode; assessing, planning, caring, with my adrenaline running rampant in my veins. Boner’s like a true brother to Grinder and not giving one hundred percent of my attention to him would have been a great betrayal.
But this? He was fine. Grinder was fine. What did I miss?
I turn back to the doctors as we rush Boner to a station, letting go of the ramp on the stretcher. “You got this?” Of course they do, but I can’t help asking the question.
“Go and grab a stretcher if you need one.” I nod to Dr. Mercer and do exactly what she says, running back to the entrance and grabbing the nearest gurney just as the doors are fully open again.
“What happened?” My head feels light just thinking that Grinder may not be okay.
“Don’t know. He just got off his bike and fell to the ground.” Shade pushes people away, making room for me as he tells me…well, not much.
“Did he hit his head?” Grinder’s lying on his back, eyes closed. I check his head first, careful not to move his neck. Then I pat down his entire upper body but can’t find anything. “Was he shot?” That can’t be right, no way he’s bleeding for an hour and a half all the while riding his bike like a fucking lunatic.
“Spenny?” The sound of Parker’s voice does not bode well for me or Grinder.
