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But she doesn’t care.
All she cares about right now is his safety.
I watch as Zero approaches Hurricane, and he gestures for them to head into the Chapel. Zero glances around, looking for Six, and anxiously, he follows Hurricane into the Chapel, closing the door behind them.
That willnotgo down well.
Holding onto South’s hand, I lead him over to a chair. “Sit, I need Hoodoo to come take a look at you.”
South snorts out a laugh. “Trust me, Wraith needs Hoodoo far more than I do right now.”
I shake my head. “If Wraith is bad, Aubree can look at him.”
“Wraith isn’t the type to go to the hospital, angel.”
I glance over my shoulder to the corner of the room. “That’s why I made sure to bring the hospital here. I had a bad feeling, so I asked Aubree to come here when y’all got back.”
South smiles. “Baby, you’re so fucking smart.”
I let out a laugh. “No, just been here long enough to know when shit needs escalating.”
Texas and Neon carry a barely hanging-on Wraith through the clubhouse doors, and Aubree stands as if on cue, racing toward them. “Put him on the pool table,” she demands, grabbing her med kit, ripping open his shirt, and getting to work.
I turn back to South, raising my brow. “See, she’s doing her thing. Now you can be seen by Hoodoo, okay?”
He growls in response. “You’re bossy… I like it.”
I chuckle and signal to Hoodoo to make his way over now he’s finished examining Jesse. Hoodoo places his med kit on the table beside us and looks at South. “Where’s your biggest problem?”
South points to his leg, and Hoodoo nods. “Okay, can you take off your jeans? Or do I need to cut them off?”
South lets out a laugh. “You’re not cutting my motherfucking jeans off, asshole.”
Hoodoo continues pulling shit out of his med kit. “Then stop talking and get your damn jeans off.”
South groans, then slides his jeans off, leaving him in his boxer briefs. The bullet hole is clearly visible in his lower leg, plus all the scrapes and bruises along his body. My heart aches knowing the hell they must have gone through out there on that battlefield. I reach out, grabbing South’s hand and holding on as Hoodoo gets to work.
“You want me to numb it?” he asks South.
South snorts out a laugh. “Does anyone ever want you to numb it?”
Hoodoo rolls his eyes. “True. But this shit’s gonna hurt. I gotta go in, poke around, and get this bullet out.”
“Just go for it, brother,” South states, his eyes focused solely on me.
I don’t know if he’s trying to be brave or tough, I have no idea, but I wish he would take the damn numbing. But the one thing I have learned about these men is that they are headstrong and will stick to their guns when it comes to medical shit. So, I will sit here and be his anchor to get through this next part.
Hoodoo swabs the area with, I’m assuming, alcohol, but I can’t be sure, then moves in with some instrument to remove the bullet. “Okay, here we go,” Hoodoo states, then begins pushing into South’s leg.
South grimaces, gritting his teeth, his hand clenching mine so tight. I bring my free hand up and caress his face tenderly. “Breathe, baby, you got this. Just breathe.”
He pants harshly through his nose as I focus my eyes on his, letting him know I am right here with him. Hoodoo moves about, doing whatever he’s doing, as a bead of sweat runs down South’s temple.
“You got this, Rome. Just a little more,” I tell him.
“Got the little bastard!” Hoodoo pulls the fragmented bullet from South’s leg, holding it up for us to see.
South lets out the breath he was holding as I press a kiss to his cheek. “You did so well, babe.”
