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Dr. Yang slid a gaze to me, equal parts confused and wary. “Do you want to step out in the hall?”
Moon looked to me and back to the doctor with a casual shake of her head. “No, it’s fine. He’s a friend.”
“He’s my friend too,” Beau added with a wide grin for me.
“Okay.” Dr. Yang didn’t seem to mind either way and that made me respect her more. I was used to everyone from cops and doctors, cashiers and every other goddamn person judging me by my tattoos, my kutte and my bike.
“It is my strong recommendation that Beau begins the stem cell treatments right away. He’s young and this treatment will reduce inflammation and regenerate lung tissue, which will decrease his attacks.”
That sounded good to me, but Moon was still in her fierce protector role. “Decrease?”
The doctor smile sympathetically. “As the therapy works it will help reshape Beau’s airways and that combined with the reduced inflammation could stop them altogether, but you know I can’t make that promise. Dr. Mankowski can give you more information.”
She kept talking about the procedure and what to expect but Moon wasn’t paying attention.
I could tell she was numb. Worried. Afraid. I stood and put my hand on her shoulder. Tension was woven into every fiber of her being, so much that she practically vibrated with it. Beau sensed it and the doctor could see it.
“Anything else, Dr. Yang?” she asked.
The doctor nodded. “I’ll let Mankowski know to expect a call from you soon.” After looking at Beau’s chart and asking him a few questions, Yang jotted down a few notes and left.
Moon sat on the edge of Beau’s bed and took his hand. “That doesn’t sound so bad, right kiddo?”
He nodded. “Stem cells are like magic, right Mom?”
Moon nodded, still quiet. And still. My heart went out to her and I realized, while Beau tried to make her smile, what my draw to her was beyond her unconventional beauty and the sex. No one could possibly understand my inner turmoil like Moon. She was wound so tight and held herself together as if one moment of relaxation, one moment of belief would tear everything apart.
I knew that feeling all too well.
“So, we’re doing this,” she said on a rushed breath that made me and Beau smile.
“Yep, we are, Mom.”
My phone buzzed, and I hated to intrude on this moment with real life shit, but I couldn’t ignore it. Pulling it out, I took a quick glance at the screen and groaned at the message from Jag.
Roadkill is behind the donations. Find me when you get back.
Shit. I had to go.
“What’s up?” Moon asked casually.
“I have to go. Something’s come up.”
Moon stood and turned to me, those green eyes looking all the way to the deepest part of me. Deliberately. “Go take care of business. If you want, we’re having dinner at seven.”
“We’re having mashed potatoes, right Mom?”
I smiled and winked at the kid. “I love mashed potatoes.”
“Me too and Mom puts all kind of stuff in it. You’ll like it.”
And how could I resist an invitation like that? “I’ll be there.” With a quick kiss to Moon’s cheek, I took long strides out of the hospital and called one of the prospects to come pick me
up.
***
“We ready to do this?” I stood by my bike and looked around at the men who had come with me to find White Boy Craig. Stitch, Golden Boy, Savior and Jag had offered to come with me and there was no way in hell I’d do this without them.
