Page 87 of Catcher

I lean down, careful of the IV line and bruises, and press my mouth to her forehead like I’m trying to leave something of myself there. Something that’ll stay with her until I get back. “Rest, babe.”

Her eyes close briefly, and I straighten before leaving gets harder.

Nova shoves Robby toward the door.

Riggs pauses long enough to look at Ruby one more time. “You got brothers downstairs, sweetheart. Nobody gets near you.”

She weakly nods, and then we leave.

In the hallway outside the nurses move fast behind rolling carts while fluorescent lights buzz overhead. Normal hospital noise, normal day, only nothing about today feels normal anymore.

Nova keeps Robby moving down the corridor while Riggs walks beside him, silent as death. I trail behind them, ribs aching with every step, head still pounding.

Robby keeps glancing at me, then cutting himself off halfway like he realizes eye contact might get him killed faster. It’s the smartest thing he’s done so far.

When the elevator doors open into the lobby, I spot the rest of the club right away—Everest by the front windows, Wick and Fender in chairs, and Kiwi by the coffee kiosk. The women are there too. Every single one of them looks up the second we step out.

Tension thickens.

Riggs jerks his chin toward the exit, and the rest of the men follow.

We move through the lobby together, boots thudding against polished floors while people stare and then look away the second they clock the cuts on our backs.

Outside, Louisiana heat slams into my skin, thick and humid like breathing through a wet cloth.

Once outside, Riggs turns to Everest. “Ride to the clubhouse and get the van.” He then turns to Kiwi. “Tag along. We don’t travel alone.” Riggs shifts his attention to Wick. “Kiwi stays with you after he gets back. No one walks in or out of this place or around our women without you knowin’ about it.”

“You got it, brother.” Wick nods.

“Where are you taking me?” Robby asks, his voice shaky.

Nobody answers. I pull a cigarette from my pocket, light it, and drag smoke deep into my lungs while I watch him silently come apart. He keeps scanning the parking lot—twitchy, paranoid, scared, as if he expects somebody else to step out of the dark.

His paranoia infects the rest of us, making every movement around us suspect. I exhale smoke slowly and stare straight through him without saying a word, because if I open my mouth right now, all that will come out will be violence. It’s taking everything in me to keep my hands off him and not make him feel a fraction of what Ruby already has.

Everest pulls up, Kiwi right behind him on his bike. Everest steps around the van door and opens the back. Nova shoves Robby inside. Riggs climbs in behind him. I flick my cigarette to the pavement, grind it under my boot, and follow. The door slams shut, and a few seconds later, we’re rolling away from the hospital.

Nobody talks during the drive.

The van hums low beneath us while New Orleans slides by outside. Robby sits across from me, trying not to shake. Every time he looks up and catches one of us watching him, he looks like he’s about to vomit.

The closer we get to the clubhouse, the heavier the silence becomes.

By the time Everest turns down the gravel driveway leading toward Kings’ property, Robby looks ready to crawl out of his own skin. Everest doesn’t stop near the main entrance.

The farther-rear section of the property remains isolated and quieter, separated from the rest of the clubhouse. That’s where the shed sits. There’s just enough room inside to make a man regret every bad decision that led him there.

The second Robby sees it, panic explodes across his face. “Wait.”

The van comes to a stop. Nova grabs Robby’s arm and drags him out of the van. “Too late.”

The river wind carries damp heat and the smell of muddy water across the property while gravel crunches beneath our boots.

Robby digs his heels in once, and Nova slams him forward hard enough to stagger him. “Keep walkin’.”

The shed reeks of rust, bleach, river water, and old blood baked into the concrete. A single bare bulb sways overhead, casting weak light over the bolted metal chair, the floor drain, and the tools on the wall. Robby goes pale.

I lean against the wall near the door while Nova straps him into the chair. I stand directly in front of him. Robby blinks. “Don’t kill me.” Fear makes his voice crack. “Please.”