Page 31 of Healed

The one time I finally found the courage to ask, and the useless bastard had the audacity to be unconscious.

“I hope she went peacefully,” I sighed, because I already knew.

Vienna wouldn’t have walked away without her if there was any other choice.

I continued the drive in silence. By the time the gates of the Devil’s Disciples compound came into view, his breathing hadn’t changed once.

And I had checked.

A lot.

Chapter 9

Gabriella

Arriving at the clubhouse was just as chaotic as I expected.

Before I’d even had the chance to bring the car to a complete stop, the back door was ripped open and a rugged, scarred face appeared through the open door.

“Ahh, shit,” the man spat. “You’re gonna need stitches.”

He slammed the door shut again, only to open it again once the car had come to a stop.

“You hurt, Missy?” he glared at me.

“Um, n-no,” I stuttered, feeling ridiculously intimidated. He threw a bandage over the back seat anyway, landing in my lap.

“Doc, thank God you’re here. I need a whiskey,” Vienna whined back, throwing his hands over his eyes. “And a beer. And a beard comb.”

“I’ll get you fishing wire, a shot, and a razor. Take your pick which one you want.”

“You’re a cruel man.”

“And you’re sending me into an early grave.” And then he turned his attention back to me. I flinched under the intense, angry gaze. “Are you here for decoration, or are you able to move this heap of shit closer to the clubhouse so I can get him out?”

“Had you not dramatically thrown yourself over the bonnet and ripped my doors open, I might have stood a chance,” I snapped back.

“Less talking, more moving. Now git!”

He slammed the door shut for the second time, and I managed to pull the car forward exactly one centimetre before the door was ripped open again.

“Payback, bitch!” a young-looking man laughed, blowing a streamer in Vienna’s face, the sound loud and blaring in the small car.

“Pivot, why aren’t you dead yet?”

Pivot’s response was to blow the streamer again, this time slower, the tip of it hitting Vienna’s nose.

“Pivot!” someone yelled, and the next thing I knew, Pivot was being propelled backwards, his body levitating for a second before slapping against the concrete with a painful thud.

“Get your ass out of the car, Vienna!” Hacksaw grinned, grabbing Vienna’s ankles and hauling him halfway across the seat until his legs dangled out the door.

“I am practically dead, Hacksaw. Literally hanging on by a thread. Could you show some compassion?”

“I did. I was going to shoot at you to get you out of the car. This seemed like the better option.”

“How generous,” I muttered under my breath.

But Hacksaw didn’t listen. He bent down low, grabbed Vienna’s arms and hauled him over his shoulder.