Chapter Twenty-Four

SHAY

"Puked on twice on my first day back. That must be good luck or something, right?" I grumbled, pulling an oversized T-shirt on over my underwear.

Bishop sat at the edge of the bed, unbuckling his belt. "You think getting puked on is good luck? God, you need to hang around the clubhouse more on Saturday nights. You'll get all the good luck in the fucking world."

"I'm gonna stop you right there," I said, choking out a half-laugh, half-gag. "How the hell do they make it here on Sunday for lunch if they're that dru—"

Bang.

The front door crashed open downstairs, and Bishop rushed across the room, wrapping his arms around me and putting his body between me and the bedroom door.

"Bishop!"

Blue's roar filled the house, and panic rushed through me as we scrambled out the door, neither of us completely clothed, feet creating a mixture of thumps and creaks as we thundered down the stairs and into the living room.

"I'm not going to the… hosp… hospital!" Rafe protested while Blue and Cash lowered him onto the couch. As they stepped back, I noted the blood running down Rafe's face.

"Holy shit," I cursed, pushing past the boys and reaching for the large gash on the top of Rafe's head. He swatted at my hand, trying to push me away. "Rafe, I swear…"

"Rafe!" Bishop snapped. "Sit still. Let Shay check you out. That's a fucking order."

Rafe's shoulders slumped, his fight instantly fizzling away.

"Here," Cash offered, reappearing from the kitchen and tossing me a clean tea towel.

"Thanks. Can you grab me an ice pack too?" I instantly pressed the cloth to the top of the kid's head, cautious of the blood since I didn't have any gloves handy. "What the hell happened?"

He sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth. "They ran me off… off the road."

I almost snapped my neck, looking back at Bishop.

The dark glare in his eyes wasn't directed at me, but for a brief second, it sent a shiver down my spine. "You're going to have to—"

"I'm not going… not going… hospital."

"Rafe, look at me," I hissed, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at me. His eyes were slightly glazed, and I could tell he was fighting to stay awake. "Rafe, did you lose consciousness after the accident? Do you remember what happened?"

"I don't…" He paused, shaking his head. "I'm not…"

He lurched forward suddenly and spilled the entire contents of his stomach on the front of my T-shirt. All I could do was stand there, continuing to apply pressure to his head as he emptied his guts.

"Oh shit," Blue cursed, his mouth hanging open.

"Shay, I'm sorry," Rafe apologized, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I just… I don't want to go to the hospital."

"You know what I want?" I whispered, screwing up my nose. "I want you to not die right here in front of me. So I'm telling you, we're going to the hospital. Now."

"You heard her, kid," Bishop announced, nodding to the other boys. "Get him in my truck. I'll be out in a minute to take him to the emergency room."

"We'll be out in a minute to take him to the emergency room," I corrected, earning a couple of quick smiles from the other guys.

Rafe groaned loudly but didn't complain as Blue and Cash stepped back up, helping heft the heavy-set teenager off the couch and back out the front door.

"I'll be two minutes," I told Bishop as I trudged up the stairs and stepped into the bathroom. "I want to make sure I'm there with him. Matt's on shift, so I can get all the information and have him seen quickly."

Bishop leaned through the door, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. "Thanks," he said, stepping back with a heavy sigh. "I probably would have put him to bed and told him we'd sort it in the morning."

"Honestly, that's what most people would do, and more than likely, he would have been fine. But there are those few…" I shuddered, thinking about the percentage of people who don't realize they have a major head injury and then one day just lose the ability to speak or use their body. Or just don't wake up.

He clenched his jaw and nodded. "I'll meet you downstairs in five," he confirmed, taking a step back but pausing, a smile growing on his face. "Maybe you being puked on three times is lucky. But not for you, for me."

"Funny," I deadpanned, remembering that I was once again covered in someone else's lunch or dinner choices. "Get out. I'll be there in a minute."

***

"It's not broken," Matt announced, shoving the X-ray into the light box. I blinked a couple of times to bring everything into focus, but it only took a breath for my eyes to shoot open wide, and I turned my shocked gaze toward Matt. "Yup, my thoughts exactly."

"Wait, what are we looking at here?" Bishop questioned, his gaze floating between us and the X-ray, which I'm sure was confusing enough to him.

"Rafe's arm is only sprained. There's no sign of a break or a fracture…" Matt explained before adding, "… at least not this time."

Bishop's frown grew deeper. "Doc, you're gonna have to do better than that."

Matt let out a heavy sigh. "This here." He pointed at the image, circling his finger around a couple of bones that didn't quite match up. "This is a break that didn't heal properly. Most likely was never even put in a cast or actually looked at by a doctor. There's another here in his finger, plus some suspicious-looking lines that I'd like a proper tech to look at because I'm not a specialist."

"The fuck does any of that mean?" Blue asked, appearing suddenly with Bishop in the small office they should be nowhere near. "Someone never took him to the doctor when he hurt himself?"

Matt's smile was sad. "Kids who usually come in, their X-rays looking like this… are usually from abusive homes. They're more often than not in foster care." Check. "They have trouble trying to control or understand their emotions." Check. "They've really just spent their whole lives being beaten on and broken down, and they need someone to step up and help them."

I looked over at Blue. Check.

I think we all knew Rafe's home life was never really kind.

That was why Blue wanted to help him in the first place, and by the look of absolute devastation on his face, this was the answer he'd suspected but that Rafe had never really given.

"So what do we do now?" Bishop questioned, stepping in and squinting at the X-ray as if that would give him the years' worth of training required to see the things he couldn't see before. "Can we do something that will help him now? Can we fix any of these breaks that healed wrong?"

Matt's nose scrunched. "You'd have to talk to someone who knows better than me, but if he's strong, he's not getting pain, and they aren't impacting him negatively, I'd leave it all alone. There is a lot of baggage in those scars, and he needs to be ready to deal with those, and I'm not sure if he will be until he really works on himself."

"Thanks, Matt." I patted him on the back, and he nodded, moving out and leaving us in the little room. "I think it's best if you don't mention to him the kind of damage this showed. Imagine what could be in the rest of his body. Jesus."

Bishop nodded. "I agree. Bringing up old scars will only create new ones. We continue to show him brotherhood and support. Let him open up to us when he's ready."

"Yeah…" Blue agreed with a heavy sigh. "Fuck, man. It's worse than I thought."

"But it's only going to get better," I interrupted. "You guys are giving Rafe confidence and people he can trust and lean on and, eventually, that is only going to make him stronger too. Whether he wants to go back and relive these damn traumas or just move on with his life… he's going to be okay, and we all know that because he has the club."

There was no denying the things the club and its brotherhood had done for the men inside, and the women too.

For me.

"I'm gonna go check in on him," Blue announced, stepping out and walking away, leaving Bishop and me in the small office at the rear of the nurses' station.

"Thanks for looking after him," Bishop commented, reaching for my hand. He tugged me into his arms, though there was little resistance.

"I feel like a mother hen looking after little chicks when it comes to you and those boys," I joked, but I quickly saw a change in Bishop's face and tried to pull back. "Sorry, I didn't mean—"

He held me tight, leaning in and pressing his forehead to mine. "No. I know exactly what you mean, and you have no idea how important that is to me. How fucking good it feels to hear you say that. I know we haven't had the talk about kids or shit, but—"

"But it can wait for another time," I cut in, lifting onto my toes to kiss his lips. "We've got one kid out there in the emergency room needing our support right now. And we still need to figure out who the hell ran him off the road."

I knew he hated it. He wanted to have the talk right now, right here in some hospital room. But I just didn't think it was important.

"Right, there's plenty of time for us to talk about all that shit later," he said with a gentle nod.

"All the time in the world," I agreed, grinning. "Trust me."