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“Not yet. I’m heading to the club. Will you stay with Lana till I get back?”
“Of course.”
Kissing Sparky’s cheek, she disappears through the doors.
Slade steps closer. “What do you need us to do?”
“I want you and Ricky to stay here. Make sure no one goes in unless it’s a doctor or a nurse. Sparky, you’re with me.”
I walk down the hall to the stairs, bypassing the elevator.
Outside, I inhale the fresh morning air, but it’s not enough. Seeing Sparky digging out his smokes as soon as his boots hit the concrete, I snatch them from his hand.
Putting one to my lips, I hold my hand out for his lighter, but he shakes his head.
“Brother…”
“Just this one. Give me the light.”
Leaving no room for argument, he reluctantly passes it over. I light it up, and it’s like I never quit. The head rush hits hard, making me dizzy, but I push through it and take another drag.
“You shouldn’t be smoking.”
“I’m well aware. But right now, I’m covered in my son’s blood. I’ve had to sit at his bedside, listening to machines keeping him alive, and there’s not a fucking thing I can do to fix it. So I’m going to have this smoke, and if you tell Lana, I’ll rip your tongue out with my bare hands.”
Holding his hands up, he backs off and lights his own smoke as we walk over to the car he drove here. Climbing into the passenger seat, I lower the window to blow the smoke out.
I’m tired of fighting the urge, so I suck on the cigarette until it’s burned down to the butt and throw it out. The drive is quiet. Closing my eyes, I try to relax, but my mouth now tastes like shit.
When we finally pull through the gates, I jump out and head into the house, making my way straight up the stairs. Grabbing clean clothes from my room, I lock myself in the bathroom, turn on the shower, and throw my bloodied clothes in the corner, glad to have them off of me.
Stepping under the spray, I rest my hands against the wall and hang my head, letting the hot water run over my aching muscles. I shouldn’t have left the hospital, but I couldn’t wait to get out of there, if only for a couple of hours. I proceed to scrub at my skin, washing till I feel clean again, then step out and wrap a towel around my waist.
The blood on my cut grabs my attention, so I pick it up off the floor and sit on the edge of the tub to clean it at the sink. It occurs to me, this must be the thousandth time I’ve cleaned blood off my cut, but this is the first I’ve had to clean off my son’s.
I run my fingers over my patch, and so many memories flash through my mind. I remember the night Oak collared me in the bar and put me forward to take Michael’s place at the head of the table, and no one went against him. It was the night I had to clean off Alannah’s blood after Hunter Carson had beaten her within an inch of her life. If you cracked the leather deep enough, you’d probably find remains of Oak’s blood buried in there from when I held his dead body after he was dumped at the gates. Feeling a numbness creep over me, I squeeze the leather in my fists. I was proud to wear this patch, and I still am. I wonder what Leo, when he wakes up and returns home, will feel when he wears it for the first time?
It's seen death, but it’s also seen births and marriages, laughter, and a lot of good times. With the bad comes the good, but with the highs, the lows can come out of nowhere and hit so fucking hard, you struggle to get back up.
Leo has the strength for this patch, and when he’s well enough, he’ll show everyone just how worthy he is.
Getting dressed, I head down to the kitchen where Harper is waiting, a mug of coffee for me in her hands. Grateful, I take it, gulping it down until I’m content.
“I don’t know what to say, so I’m not going to say anything.”
Putting my mug down on the table, I take her in my arms. She’s hesitant at first, but after a moment, she relaxes and hugs me back.
“He’s going to be fine. No bullet is gonna take him out. He’ll be home in no time, you’ll see.”
“I hope so.”
We stand there, holding each other, and it dawns on me that this is the first time we’ve hugged. She’s my daughter, and it’s taken this long for us to embrace one another.
“How are you coping with all this?” I ask, pulling away.
“I’m just trying to stay positive. I’ve got some baby deliveries arriving this afternoon, and Jay’s been really good.”
“How is he?”
