Chapter 13

CHAPTER

THIRTEEN

CLINK

Moaning, I move my head from side to side. I’m writhing in pain and know I should be tougher, but I can’t manage it. This shit fucking hurts. There are some other moans of pain in the background. Then I hear a woman’s voice.

“Shh, you’re going to be okay,” she coos.

I don’t recognize the voice, but it’s calming. So calming that my body relaxes, and I fall back asleep, or pass out, I’m not sure which. I’m not sure how long I stay asleep, comatose, whatever it is I am, but when my eyes flutter open, a bright laugh assaults me.

Then I hear the beeping, smell the scent of ammonia, and I know exactly where I am.

Fuck.

I’m in the hospital.

Blinking, it takes a moment for my eyes to focus. When they do, I turn my head to the side and notice I’m sharing a room. King is in the bed beside me. He also is passed the fuck out.

Pushing myself up to sitting, I let out a heavy sigh and wince at the immense pain that radiates throughout my side. Fuck. I was really stabbed. Moaning, I close my eyes, and then I hear King groan beside me.

I turn my head to look at him. His head lolls to the side, his eyes cracking open, and I can tell they’re completely fucking unfocused for a moment. Then he closes them again in a long blink before he opens them fully and focuses on me.

“What the fuck?” he asks.

“We were cocky bastards and got ourselves stabbed. Beyond that, I have no goddamn clue. I just woke up.”

“Fuck,” he groans.

Before he gets to the end of the word and lets out the k , the door opens, and I watch as a nurse makes her way into the room. She stops when she notices we’re awake, and her lips curve up into a soft smile.

“Good afternoon, boys,” she says, her voice gentle but her tone cheerful at the same time.

I don’t bother asking what day it is. I have no doubt it’s been at least a full day if not two, and I’m just going to be even angrier at myself if I know the truth about it. My woman is still at home, and I’m not there with her—all of which is my own fucking fault.

I grunt, and King snorts. Obviously, we are not feeling the same happy, good mood that she is. The nurse is completely unbothered by our sour moods as she moves around the room. She checks my side, then goes over and checks on King as well.

“So, what happened to us?” I ask.

She’s standing behind the computer and stops, lifting her head. Her eyes find mine, and she blinks. “You don’t know?” she asks.

I do know, but I’m not about to tell her that shit. I decide to wait and see what she has to say. Because I honestly do not know what happened to me after I got stabbed. The rest of my body doesn’t feel like it’s in pain, so I assume they didn’t beat the shit out of me while I was down, which makes me extremely curious.

If they wanted me dead, I was down, we all were, and they could have killed me. I would have killed them without hesitation.

“You were stabbed. Three of you were brought in by your friends,” she says.

“Friends?” I ask.

She nods her head. “The other guys who were wearing matching vests.”

I almost laugh when she calls our cuts vests, but I don’t. Instead, I watch her for a moment, then clear my throat and shift in my bed, moaning when the pain slices through me. I glance at the bags at my side, trying to see if I can make out what they’re giving me because if it’s pain meds, they aren’t working.

“No pain meds through the IV,” she states. “Not with your affiliations.”

“So, you told the cops, then?” I ask.

We have zero goddamn connections in Tennessee. We will never get out of this. They saw our cuts. They know who we are. We are not getting out of this without a million questions.

I can only hope the other guys cleaned up the inside of that clubhouse well enough that I won’t be thrown in prison… again. I cannot do another stint, and this time, no matter what strings are pulled, there's no way I would go into a low-security prison, not for murder.

“It’s our policy. They didn’t seem too concerned. It was just the three of you, no other victims. They’ll probably ask some questions.”

That’s what I’m worried about.

The questions.

And then the answers.

“You’ll be discharged tomorrow, though. They’ll probably be by sometime this afternoon now that you’re awake. Did you want to see your visitors?”

It seems as if she’s speaking quickly, with a lot of information, or maybe I’m still just a little confused. I think it’s the confusion because King responds almost immediately.

“Send in our friends. And the third guy that was stabbed?” he asks.

She lifts her gaze, her lips pressing together. I watch as she rolls them a few times, then she lets out a sigh. “I can’t tell you any medical information about another patient.”

My heart slams against my chest at the thought of something happening to Atomic. If King is worried, he doesn’t show it. “But he’s my brother,” he states.

She smiles and shakes her head once. “Your last name is Stanley. Also, his brother, Evan Hughes, is in the waiting room. So I find that hard to believe. You can ask his brother about his health status. I cannot give you anything. The doctor will be in shortly to see you both and discuss your own health statuses.”

Without another word, she leaves us alone. I look at King. I now see that he’s concerned. “What the fuck happens now?” I ask.

He snorts. “We talk to the brothers, and we get our shit straight before the cops show up because I have a feeling that nurse is about to fucking call them.”

“Jesus Christ,” I hiss.

“No fucking shit.”

DILLION

Days pass.

Too many.

One. Two. Three.

Making my way to work, I let out a sigh. I haven’t heard from Humble at all, and I can’t deny that as each hour passes that I don’t hear from him, my heart aches a little more. I become a bit sadder with each passing moment.

I thought I was lonely before, but I realize now that even in that short time together, a part of me was complete—for the first time in my life. Not even my secret lover could fulfill me the way Humble did.

I walk into the bar and head toward the gambling room to put my things away when I hear my name being called. Turning my head, I look over to see Kyle walking swiftly toward me.

As soon as I register the expression on her face, I pause. No. I don’t just pause. I freeze in place. Her feet carry her quickly over to me. Then her arms wrap around my shoulders as she hugs me.

I know that my body is stiff. I don’t know what is happening, but it’s clear she is upset about something. But then she whispers against my ear, “I’m so sorry to hear about Clink.”

Taking a step backward, I look into her eyes. I can’t move because she’s saying something about Humble, and she appears really sad, and I’m trying to figure out if it’s pity or something else.

“What about Clink?” I demand, my voice barely above a whisper.

She looks down at her shoes, then slowly lifts her gaze to meet mine. “You don’t know?” she asks. “Nobody called you?”

“Don’t know what?”

I’m finding myself on edge, impatient, and ready to lose my shit on Kyle. Her tongue slips out and slides across her bottom lip before she nods her head as if she’s making some kind of decision within herself.

“Atomic, King, and Clink were stabbed two days ago in Knoxville. King and Clink were released late this afternoon.”

My breath hitches and my heart stops in my chest as I stare at Kyle in complete shock. I don’t know what to do, where to go, what to say. I want to turn and run. I want to sprint and race to him. But at the same time, he didn’t even call me. Kyle knows what happened to him, but Humble didn’t even tell me.

“Wow,” I whisper. I don’t know what to say, so I decide not to say anything.

“Dillion?” Kyle calls out when I don’t give her much of a reaction.

I hum, flicking my gaze to meet hers. “Yeah?” I ask.

I know I sound as distracted as I feel, but I don’t know what else to say. My mind is swimming, buzzing, swirling with thoughts, and I can’t control them. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say or do.

Instead, I stay quiet and wait for her to say whatever is on the tip of her tongue because I know she has something she wants to say to me. She sinks her teeth into the corner of her bottom lip, then clears her throat before she rocks back on her heels.

“You don’t seem upset,” she points out.

“I am,” I say. “But I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where he is. I don’t know anything.”

Without another word, I turn away from her and walk into the gambling room to start my shift. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say or feel. I haven’t heard from Humble. He didn’t tell me he was stabbed. He didn’t tell me anything. So I must not be that important to him.

During the entire shift, I can’t stop thinking about Humble, about how he doesn’t think enough of me to call when he’s been stabbed. To call at all. He’s been gone for days after spouting sweet words and empty promises to me.

I’m distracted during the entire shift, and when it’s over, I don’t even bother staying to help clean up like I usually do. I tell Sal that I have a stomachache and sneak out as soon as possible. I don’t even care if Kyle sees me leave. It doesn’t matter. I just want to go home and lick my wounds.

With my head down and my eyes on the asphalt parking lot, I head straight for my car. That is until I see black boots in front of me. Slowly, I lift my head, then give the man who is blocking me a tight smile.

I don’t recognize him from the gambling room. He smiles down at me, but it isn’t a kind smile. I don’t get good vibes from him. Opening my mouth, I start to ask him to move so I can get by, but he speaks first.

“Dillion?” he asks.

I’m not sure how he knows my name. My lips snap closed as I stare up at him. I try to figure out how he would know me, but I can’t place him. Flicking my gaze to his leather vest, I think that maybe he is one of Humble’s friends, but I don’t recognize the words on his vest.

There is nothing about Dark Horse MC. Instead, the name across the chest says Demon Guns. Pressing my lips together, I chew on the inside of my cheek. I don’t know him or how he knows me.

Then I think about my brother. My family. Maybe he knows them. I start to ask him how he knows me, but I don’t get the chance. Instead, he leans forward, and his face gets a bit too close to mine. I start to lean back, but I feel his hand at the small of my back to keep me in place.

It’s at this moment that I realize I’m in trouble.

Beyond trouble.

Because then, he whispers to me, “This is retribution, and it’s going to be fun.”

Then I feel a prick at the side of my neck, almost like a bee sting, and everything goes dark.