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If I had known I was calling a war that I couldn’t lead, then, perhaps, I would have reconsidered. Because this war, it was personal. It was in the name of decades of hate towards those two families. The level of hatred I had for the Winston and Hyde families was unimaginable. So how could I have let a member of their blood patch into my club? Because I knew hate when I saw it. And there was only one emotion that filled Creed’s eyes when he spoke of his blood. That was hate.
I called the war, but I was not to know that it was not my war to lead.
22
Holly
I arrived in the emergency department just as the alarm went off, paging all doctors for a twenty-two code blue, which meant gunshot wounds and more than one. It was changeover, and most staff were leaving the hospital while the next shift was taking over. I didn’t even think about it. I dropped my bags on the nurses’ desk and could hear the ambulance sirens over the alarm bells.
This was what I’d trained for. I was calm, ready and prepared, just like the rest of the doctors standing by me near the ambulance bay entrance. I wasn’t even gowned up when the plastic doors opened wide, and the ambulance stretcher rushed in.
“Gunshot wound, upper body.” The paramedic rushed a summary of the condition, and my eyes locked on the patient. I saw the rings that I used to feel on the back of my cheek when I was a child. The vest that always smelt like home was covered in blood.
Dad.
And that was when the heartbeat monitor flattened. Before the paramedic even shouted, “No pulse,” I was snapped out of the trance and into action mode, getting the paddles and charging them.
The paramedics had already cut Dad’s shirt. “Clear” was screamed before I placed the paddles on Dad. His body jolted, but I don’t hear his heartbeat. “Clear” was yelled again, and I charge the paddles higher, placing them on his chest.
In those moments, those split seconds, my dad’s grin, my dad’s look of disapproval but the feel of his arms, the safety I felt in them, all flashed through my mind. Then tears sprung in my eyes when the heartbeat still wasn’t heard.
“Clear” was screamed once more, and I applied the paddles all while knowing if no heartbeat followed, he was gone.
I felt as if the time that had passed within me, charging those paddles and applying them and waiting to hear his heartbeat, was everlasting. Part of me didn’t want to hear the flatline.
“Pulse!” George shouted, and then I stepped back, as the surgeons rushed to take over. His heart was beating, but he was still bleeding out. I heard the surgeons shouting which operating theatre as they took off down the hall, pushing my dad, knowing that his life was now in their hands.
Hearing the shouting from the next bay, I snapped out of the trance and rushed around. Knowing I needed to help whoever was hurt. That was when I heard a scream of pain and him yelling at the nurses.
I rounded the corner, and my eyes landed on Kobra. He was fighting against treatment, trying to get up.
“Holly!” Kobra shouted at me through the pain. “You’ve got to get Mum and Ollie. You need to fucking go.” And he roared in pain as the doctors tried to apply pressure to his bullet wounds.
“He’s delusional!” the doctor shouted, and I knew they were about to sedate him.
I rushed to his side, knowing they were trying to save his life. “It’s okay,” I said, and I gripped his hand, seeing the blood running from his mouth. He was fighting them because he thought we were in trouble. “Everyone’s fine.” I smiled, and he looked at me, his body going into shock because of the pain.
“Mum’s okay? Ollie? Ivy?” His bloodshot eyes were locked with mine, and I nodded my head. But the tears formed in my eyes.
“Everyone is fine, and now you’ve got to keep breathing, okay?” I clenched his hand as if it would save him, the same thought running through my head—I can’t lose my brother. I saw the needle with the sedative go into his.
The blood was slowly running down the corner of his mouth, and I wiped it away. Lowering my head to his, I could see him still fighting.
“They’re gonna kill everyone I love,” Kobra got out as he fought the sedation. I didn’t know what he was talking about, but I felt the squeeze he had on my hand weaken, and then I squeezed his hand, hoping he would react, but he was asleep.
The nurses screamed that the operating bay was ready. I couldn’t let go of Kobra’s hand as they took off the brakes. They had already taken my father. It was Clare who shouted at me and made me look up, my vision blurry. The last thing I felt was my brother’s steel skull ring in my palm before Trey forced me to let go.
Kobra’s warning was running through my head. Get the family safe, and as I stepped out of the bay, I saw faces of members I was raised with—all near death’s door.
Someone was wiping out the Mother Chapter.
Dad was bleeding out. Kobra was also in an operating suite. I could see our enforcer and sergeant at arms.
That was when it clicked. The club was in crisis right now. We were weak, and someone had done this on purpose.
I spun around and rushed for the nurses’ station. I had blood sprayed all over me, and worse? It was my family’s blood, and the pure red panic I felt knowing that had me dialling a number I swore I would never call.
“And what doyou say if Dad or the club is hurt, little one?” Dad said to me, and I rolled my eyes as I tried to kick the football back to him. He caught my weak kick and held the ball till I answered.
