Page 82 of Grumpy

Neither the judge’s decision nor Tanya’s desire for revenge had changed anything. Not for him, and now he knew, not for Maddie either. Blood be damned, he was still her father.

Matters of the heart aside, he hadn’t been her father in ten years. Not in action anyway. And now, in a span of minutes, he’d reclaimed that title, as well as a new one. Grandfather.

In the most fucked-up, entirely sadistic way, the tornado was almost ironic. Like a physical manifestation of the whirlwind of emotions going through Grumpy for the past six months. Finally making a decision to claim Kelly, the explosion, his mother’s arrival, Kelly stepping back into the proverbial “friend zone”, endless surgeries and therapies, being displaced from the club, his mom’s overbearingness, Kelly’s blurted out confession, the extent of his mother’s manipulations being brought to light and the discovery that his daughter had come to see him at the hospital after ten years of no contact, and finally the certainty that he was getting himself to Texas, come hell or high water.

The only constants were his feelings for Kelly and hers for him. He would never doubt their bond, their connection. Friend, lover, spouse… It didn’t matter. For the past ten years, it hadn’t mattered. Grumpy might not have been in a mental state to have been who and what she needed in her life, what she deserved, but it hadn’t changed anything. The only difference was that he would no longer be sneaking around her to secretly do things that made her life easier. Sex would happen when they were ready, and not a second before. Their love was stronger than any single act of passion.

Grumpy needed to get up. He needed to get to his girls. Where were they? Were they scared or hurt? He recalled the culvert. If he was in a hospital, that meant their hiding spot had been discovered by first responders. They’d have found Maddie and Kelly, too. Jackson better be with them, watching over them while Grumpy was lying here uselessly in this hospital bed.

For several long minutes, Grumpy focused on just getting his eye to open. It felt like his eyelid was infused with lead and weighed down by sand. How could a fucking eyelid weigh so much? He was able to make his fingers move before he was able to open his eye.

The first thing Grumpy saw was a pair of booted feet. The soles were well worn, scuffed but not dirty. If the wearer was anything like Grumpy, the tedious task of cleaning his or her boots had been drilled into them since the time they were eighteen. It went beyond pride of the uniform, teaching patience and attention to detail.

Grumpy’s single eye followed up the boot-wearer’s jean-clad legs to his tan, long sleeve Henley, leather cut, and crossed arms, finally coming to rest on a pair of stern green eyes.

“The club’s made a decision,” Ghost informed him. Though his voice sounded muffled, like Ghost was speaking through glass, Grumpy understood him. “Your new road name is ‘Gimpy’, and you’ll be wrapped in bubble wrap and living in a plastic bubble from now on.” He tossed a thumb over his shoulder.

It took some concentration for Grumpy to get his eye to follow Ghost’s thumb to the large brown boxes labeled “bubble wrap” stacked behind his president. Behind and next to them were sixteen extremely stern faces of Grumpy’s club brothers. Keys, Jigsaw, and Angel were notably absent, but the rest of them were there. Lucky, Bulldog, Jumper, Demo, Bear, Ranger, Scar, Cage, Pumpkin, Poker, Scooby, Bones, Pirate, Starbucks, Papaw, and Boots. Crowded together in leather cuts, Grumpy could barely make out the edge of another hospital bed behind them. Plus Ghost by Grumpy’s bed with his fucking boots up on the nightstand, that was nearly the entire club. Who the hell was in Mount Grove with the women and children?

“Also, we’ve decided that we like Maddie more than you,” Ghost continued. “We’ve known for years that we liked Kelly more than you, and that certainly hasn’t changed. But now Maddie’s up there, too. Just so you know.”

From the angle of the room, Grumpy realized he was propped up on his right side. There was a wedge under his neck and ear rather than a pillow that would have blocked his vision.

At the sound of his girls’ names, Grumpy tried to ask about them, but his jaw felt too heavy. Not like when it had been screwed shut. Just too dry to move.

Despite his stern, pissed-off expression, Ghost took pity on him. “They’re fine,” he informed Grumpy, his voice much kinder. Relief flooded Grumpy at the news to the point where he thought he might pass out for a moment. “Both were treated for hypothermia, and doing a hell of a lot better than you. Maddie is in the labor and delivery ward for fetal monitoring, and she and the babies are doing well. They brought her down here earlier to see you. Kelly’s been back and forth between here and there. Angel and Ruth are with them. Your daughter’s got a fierce protector in your woman,” Ghost added with obvious approval. “Even with a busted shoulder, Kelly’s ensuring Maddie doesn’t want for anything.”

At the words “busted shoulder”, Grumpy’s fear returned. A strangled grunt escaped his nose.

“It’s nothing serious,” Bear said, speaking up for the first time. “It’s a partial dislocation of her left shoulder. A few weeks in a sling and she’ll be good as new.”

As much as Grumpy hated hearing about Kelly’s injury and worried about the pain she must be in, he couldn’t argue that she’d gotten off lucky with such a minor wound. He was sure many people today—or whenever the tornado had been—could not say the same. Hearing that Kelly was with Maddie also soothed something inside him, even if he was dying to see both his girls.

Knowing Angel was with them explained her absence, but not Keys’ or Jigsaw’s. Grumpy still wondered where the ol’ ladies and kids were. He didn’t know what day it was, but he highly doubted the club was able to corral all those kids to rush down to Texas. Or were they in Oklahoma? Grumpy couldn’t remember if they’d made it to the border before the tornado had touched down. How long had the tornado chased them before it changed direction?

If Grumpy’s jaw muscles would work as desired, Grumpy would have frowned. Ghost had said Angel was with Maddie and Kelly. Why wasn’t Jackson with them? The prospect had gone above and beyond what anyone, including Ghost, could have expected of him. He hadn’t hesitated, risking his own life to get Maddie to that culvert, when other men would have run to save themselves. On that action alone, Grumpy planned to speak to Ghost about patching Jackson in early. Like Lionheart, Jackson had earned his cut on merit alone.

But why would he drop his duties now? Grumpy didn’t remember much once he’d gotten to the culvert, but he recalled seeing Jackson carry Maddie inside after Kelly.

It took far too much energy than it should have to be able to lift his left hand and curl his fingers into a fist except for his pinkie. It was shaky, but Grumpy was able to sign the letter ‘J’ by merely twisting his wrist. When Ghost frowned, not seeming to understand, Grumpy repeated the action.

“J?” Ghost questioned him.

Grumpy barely was able to dip his chin in a nod.

“Jumper?” Ghost asked, pointing to the club’s secretary.

Grumpy let out a frustrated noise, and closed his fingers in the sign for “no”.

Ghost’s lips turned down in a confused frown. “Jigsaw? He’s with Keys. For the past week, Keys has had this bug up his butt about something.” Ghost rolled his eyes, though his affection for the club’s youngest member was plain. “He needed Jigsaw’s help with it. They actually left Mount Grove two days after you did. They said they have one thing to finish up, and then they’ll come down here.”

As nice as it was to get an answer on his two missing club members, that had not been what Grumpy was asking about. Again, he brought his shaking hand up to re-sign the question.

“J?” Ghost repeated, confused. “J?” he said again, like he was testing out the sound of the letter. Slowly, shaking his head, Ghost told Grumpy, “We don’t have anyone else by the letter ‘J’. Not even prospects.” Thankfully, Ghost did not pause long enough for Grumpy’s confusion to really settle. “We do have a new club brother, but his road name doesn’t start with ‘J’.”

At a hand motion from Ghost, the others separated, revealing the other bed in the room. Ghost finally put his feet down, shifting back to give Grumpy a clear view of Jackson. The young man was unconscious or sleeping, and looked like… Well, it looked like he’d battled a tornado and won. His left side, the side closest to Grumpy, was entirely black and blue. A gauze pad was taped over his neck. Grumpy couldn’t tell what other injuries he had beneath his hospital gown and bedsheets, but what did catch his notice was the black leather cut laid over Jackson’s covers. This wasn’t his prospect cut with a single rocker on the back, but a cut with full colors. The skull and crossing rifles of the club’s symbol was partly encircled by two rockers, the top Via Daemonia and the bottom Mount Grove, PA.

It couldn’t be Jackson’s cut. Demo was good, but he wasn’t that good. More than likely, it was one of the brothers’ cuts, maybe even Grumpy’s if they’d decided to bring his new one with them. Either way, it was the sentiment that counted, and Jackson would be getting his real cut as soon as Demo was able to get it ordered.