“He’s at his house, Baz. Not the clubhouse.”
“Gotcha.”
*****
The waiting room had settled into an uneasy silence, the low mutters of the men I shared this life with broken only by the occasional crackle of tannoys and the distant beeping of machines somewhere deeper in the building. Some of us moved. Fury paced. Beanz smoked three cigarettes back-to-back outside and came in smelling like an ashtray and cold night air. Indie hadn’t moved from beside Suzy once.
I watched the doors. Every fucking time they opened my chest tightened. But it was never her. A nurse. A porter. A patient who had been patched up and was on their way home again.
Then, finally, she appeared again.
Grey scrubs now. She’d worn green before. I swallowed down the heavy lump of lead that was rising from my stomach into the back of my throat. Tiredness and strands of hair clung to her face, shadows sitting beneath her eyes, but she still held herself together in that same controlled way she always did.
Conversations stopped instantly. Everyone’s gaze turning to her. Waiting. Sophie’s eyes found mine first before moving across the room towards where Indie and Suzy sat. Those of us who were already on our feet moved in, others watching intently from where they were.
“He deteriorated during the scan,” she said quietly, professionally. “They found internal bleeding.”
Suzy made a tiny, strangled cry, and Indie tightened his arm around her.
“There was something else. A gunshot wound to his back. We hadn’t identified that initially because of the trauma from the crash. That’s also started to bleed out.”
The room changed. Not loud. Worse. Still like all the oxygen had just been sucked clean out of it. I felt Fury straighten beside me. Demon muttered a curse under his breath.
“He’s on his way to surgery now,” Sophie continued carefully. “The surgeons are waiting for him. They’ll try to stop the bleeding and remove the bullet if they safely can.”
If. That fucking word landed like the gavel at church, and I was sure it echoed around the waiting room for everyone else to hear.
Sophie’s composure slipped then. Just slightly. A flicker. Tired. Worried. Carrying all of this on shoulders too small for it. And standing there under the fluorescent lights, telling a room full of Northern Kings whether one of their brothers might live or die.
Indie looked across to Emmie, something said in silence between them. When he stood, Emmie slipped into the seat he’d vacated and wrapped her arms around Magnet’s wife.
“Thank you, Dr Mercer,” he said steadily.
“Sophie.”
“Thank you, Sophie. For everything you’ve done today. Me, Suzy and the club really appreciate it.”
The muscles in Sophie’s neck twitched very slightly, yet her eyes held Indie’s.
“You’re welcome. I just hope it’s enough,” she said, quieter this time.
Indie nodded, then patted her gently on the shoulder and turned away.
Her eyes searched for me now. Wide and dark. Uncertainty showing. I crossed the space in two strides, wrapping my arms around her, pulling her into me. She stiffened at first, and then I felt her melt into me. I buried my face into the top of her hair, inhaling. Shampoo. Hospital. That clean clinical smell clinging to her skin beneath something softer that was just Sophie. Familiar enough to hurt.
My hands spread across her back, holding her tighter than I probably should have, but I needed it. Needed the feel of her against me. Warm. Real. Steadying something inside me that had been spiralling since Magnet hit the ground. I didn’t understand it. Never had. Just knew that somehow, she quietened the noise in my head in ways nothing else ever could. And she always had.
“Ry,” she said quietly, and I detangled myself from her. “The gunshot wound. It’s hospital policy. The police have to be informed.”
For a second neither of us moved, but I watched the apology flicker across her face, subtle but there. Like she hated even saying the words to me.
“They’ll want statements,” she continued carefully. “Questions about what happened.”
A humourless smile pulled at my mouth.
“Good luck to them getting those.”
Her eyes held mine a moment longer, worry creeping into them now. Not for herself. For me. For all of us.
