“I’m okay, Teach,” I try to rasp the words, but I don’t know if she hears them.
“Titus,” she pleads, “don’t leave me.”
Everything goes dark.
CHAPTER 20
EZRA
I don’t know what to do. My hands are shaking and covered in blood. Someone sat me down in the emergency room waiting room, but I have no idea how I got here. All I remember is the sound of the gunshot and then the blood.
So much fucking blood.
Bobby’s blood.
My biker’s blood.
When Titus went down, I pressed my hands to the wound, trying to stop the blood. I pressed down and blood seeped through my fingers. He let out a pained groan, his eyes fluttering open but it was clear he wasn’t there behind those gray eyes.
I’m okay, Teach.
I can still hear his voice. I can still hear those words.
It feels like everything around me is rushing. But the only thing I can do is look at my hands.
Opal is fine other than being a little scared. I heard that much, I think.
Bobby is dead. I know that much. Dad’s shot came just a second too late.
Titus took a step just as the gun went off and I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. I shouldn’t have spoken up. I should have let them handle it.
Blood.
My chest starts to heave just as a warm hand covers my shaking blood covered ones. When my gaze snaps up, I find Whiskey crouching down in front of me. Only then do I take in the waiting room. It’s filled with men wearing leather cuts.
“Ezra,” Whiskey’s voice is soft. I swallow hard, but I don’t trust my words. As if he understands the turmoil, he offers me a gentle smile. “Ryker is going to be just fine,” he tries to assure me.
Why do his words sound so fucking hollow. I want to cling to them. I want to believe them.
I look over to see Jackal holding Vera against his chest. Everything in me screams to go to them and tell them how sorry I am.
If I hadn’t seen anything. If I hadn’t gone to him.
Would this have happened?
But I can’t go over there. Not with my hands covered in their son’s blood. Tears stream down my face, but I don’t even try to brush them away.
When Jackal meets my gaze, his eyes, so similar to his son’s, are filled with pain. With remorse. With fear. My breath catches in my throat, and I choke on the scream threatening to come out.
“My next-door neighbor is a nurse here,” Whiskey’s voice pulls my attention back to him. “I don’t know a lot about Bridget, but I know she’s good at her job. I’ll see if I can get any information on what’s going on back there. Okay?”
“Okay,” the word feels like glass against my throat, “thank you.”
Whiskey squeezes my hands and then stands up and moves toward the desk. If he can get information, I’ll take it. I’m just not going to hold my breath.
At least someone back there is competent. I try to hold that inside my chest, trying to allow it to comfort me. It’s not helping.
Lara and Graycie rush into the waiting room. Graycie’s gaze sweeps over the room and finds me, so many questions brim in her eyes. I nod toward Opal and the look Graycie gives me is filled with understanding and maybe a little pride.
