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“You could go get a coffee or a cigarette. I can stay with him.”
Screwy’s head shakes, but his eyes remain unmoved and I step closer, carefully placing my hand on his shoulder.
“I know what it’s like to only have one person in the whole world that matters to you,” I explain. “Go get a smoke, take a slash, he’ll still be here when you get back.”
Screwy looks up at me, his eyes red and fierce with anger, and he shocks the hell out of me when he nods his head then stands up on his feet and makes his way to the door. I wait for him to leave before taking the seat and looking at Squealer. He looks so peaceful, and without his mouth talking shit I can almost appreciate what all the women who hang off him see in him.
“I guess I need to thank you for what you did, and you have no idea how pleased I am that you're unconscious for this, you smug bastard.” I imagine him smirking, and when his lips don't move it makes me feel real fucking sad.
“I know how much you’re lapping up all this attention, but I ain’t having your death on my conscience so you have to pull through. If not for me, for your brother. He needs you, the club needs you, and well… I’d miss you if you weren’t around.” God, I can’t believe I feel the need to say this.
“You’ll never know because I ain’t ever gonna tell ya about it, but this isn’t the first time you saved me. Shit was bad for me, and then, when it got a whole lot worse, I thought I was gonna fall apart, and then you came out of nowhere with that big old smile on your face, and you made me feel normal again. Just for a tiny second, but it was long enough to make me realize I wanted to fight.
So, I owe you a knife and a life.”
My eyes well up with tears and I use my sleeve to wipe them away before anyone comes in and sees them.
“You’re a pain in everyone's fuckin’ ass, Squealer.” I lean closer and tell him in a harsh whisper, “but you make people happy when shit gets too serious. The club need that, and I need that.” The thought of him not waking up makes me hurt too much to think about.
“For fuck’s sake, open your eyes and say something offensive,” I snap at him. I take his hand in mine and squeeze it enough to try and make him feel pain, and when he doesn’t respond I close my eyes and sob.
“That was a real touching speech, darlin’,” I hear his voice croak, and I wonder if I’ve imagined it when I look up from our hands and his eyes are still shut. Then I see that hint of a snigger pick up on his lips and I can’t hold myself back
“Squealer.” My arms automatically fling around his neck.
“Steady, don’t want Scissorhands getting jealous.” He huffs a laugh at me and then flinches with pain.
“You almost fucking died, you idiot.” I slap him on the shoulder, softly of course.
“Jeez, thanks for saving my life, Squealer, I really owe you one. Do you want me to suck your cock now or later?” he says sarcastically, and it makes me want to hug him and slap him all at the same time.
“You know what I mean. You had everyone worried. Screwy’s been in here with you all night. We thought…” My eyes begin to prickle with tears, happy ones.
“It’ll take a lot more than a bullet to rid you guys of me. Did they get ‘em all?” He lifts his hand up to rub his face and stares at all the tubes going into it.
“Every last one,” I put on my brave face and smile proudly back at him. “I should get a nurse or a doctor. You in any pain?” I stand up and make my way to the door, colliding with Screwy’s firm chest, and the relief I see on his face warms the pit of my stomach.
“I’ll leave you guys to it and send someone in. I got to call the others to tell them you’re gonna be okay.” Screwy stomps his way over to his brother’s bed and grabs him in a huge hug that must cause him pain.
“Chill. bro, I can't fuckin’ breathe,” I hear Squealer cuss his brother, and it almost has me skipping up the corridor to find Troj and Grimm.
Grimm sits on one of the plastic chairs, while Troj paces in front of him.
“He’s awake,” I put them both out of their misery, and I’m taken completely by surprise when Troj comes at me, lifting me off my feet and spinning me around.
Grimm growls, and Troj puts me back down again, pulling out his cell as he charges out the room to go find Squealer.
“He’s gonna be okay.” I step toward Grimm, who kisses me like we’ve been apart for days.
“I never thought I’d be so relieved to see that mother fucker talking.” I giggle. “We should get back to the club and tell the others.”
Grimm must agree with me because he practically drags me out of the hospital and back to the car.
Word has already reached the club when we get back, and as happy as I am that Squeal is gonna be okay, I don’t feel much like celebrating.
Now that I’ve come down from the initial relief. I’ve been hit with reality. The men that hurt me might be dead, but in the process, I’ve caused a war between the Dirty Souls and whoever this Ivan guy is.
Grimm pours us a Jack each and lights up a smoke. He places the drink on the table, and gestures for me to take it with a tip of his head. I don’t hesitate, knocking it back and hoping it will take some of the edge off.
