AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Whiler!” Ink barked as he quickly made his way down the slope. His phone was to his ear. “Joey, get the fucking van. Whiler was just shot. Pretty sure the hit was meant for him.”
I rolled onto my back and stared up at the blue sky, pain pulsing through every inch of my body, but I didn’t think anything was broken. My jeans and leather cut had protected most of my body, though I knew I had road rash on my arm under my torn shirt. I could feel blood trickling down my cheek, but my head seemed alright.
Thank God for fucking helmets.
“Whiler, brother, can you hear me?” Vern asked, patting my cheek. My blood smeared on his hand, but he didn’t pay it any mind.
“I can hear you,” I grumbled. “I don’t think anything is broken.”
After pushing myself up into a sitting position and spitting some blood onto the ground beside me, I peeled my jacket and shirt up, grimacing at my side. “Flesh wound,” Vern told Ink. “But he’s bleeding like a mother fucker.” Vern sat me up and pushed my cut off my shoulders before peeling my shirt over my head. Using the hole in my shirt, he ripped it up and tied it around my torso to help slow the bleeding.
“Joey is on his way,” Ink told me, bringing his phone down from his ear. “He’s bringing Cannon. She was a nurse. She’ll be able to get you stitched up before you bleed too much.”
Fucking Cannon. I’d rather bleed out.
I grunted in response and reached up to unbuckle my helmet. After tossing it on the ground next to me, I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed before looking around for my bike. I grimaced at the sight of it. The paint job was fucked, my front tire was popped, and one of the mufflers had broken.
Just my fucking luck. Undrivable.
“Help me get up the fucking hill,” I grumbled.
Vern helped me to my feet, and he and Ink worked on getting me back up the slope. My feet were still unsteady beneath me, and my head was beginning to throb. I needed a hot shower, some whiskey, and a fucking bed. I thought my head had been okay, but I probably had a minor concussion.
Joey was pulling up by the time we made it to the top. He jumped off his bike, and Alejandro, who had been driving the van, came to a stop behind him. “Jesus fucking Christ,” Joey snarled. I flashed him a bloody smile. “Get in the van.”
Vern helped me to the van, while Ink headed down the slope with Joey to try to get my mangled bike up. Cannon pushed open the back doors, grimacing at the sight of me. “How bad?” she asked immediately as she reached out to help me inside and onto one of the seats.
“More aches and pains than anything,” I told her. The bleeding in my mouth seemed to be slowing, and no teeth were loose or missing. “Took a bullet graze to the side. Bleeding on my cheek. I think that covers it. If you’ve got some water, I could really do with rinsing my mouth out.”
Cannon handed me a bottle of water, and I quickly rinsed my mouth before spitting it outside of the van. She flipped open a first-aid kit and unwrapped my side once I was settled in front of her. My body was screaming in pain. “You need stitches,” she told me as Vern shut the doors, giving us privacy. “Do you need me to give you a numbing shot?”
I shook my head. “Just do what you need,” I told her. I could handle the pain of a few stitches.
She began to clean my wound; it burned like a mother fucker, but I stayed silent. A couple of minutes later, she began to stitch me up. I gritted my teeth and stared straight ahead at the back door while she worked. Another five minutes, and she was completely done, even my cheek cleaned up.
“Thank you,” I grunted. I wasn’t a complete asshole. I did know manners. She’d helped me when she didn’t have to. Hell, she’d helped me even when I’d been nothing but a complete dick to her.
“I figured I’d probably make it the neatest,” she told me simply. “No need to thank me.” And I could tell by her expression that she meant that. She did this just because she was kind—not for any other reason.
And fuck, that made me feel like a jackass.
I gripped her arm when she got ready to get out of the back of the van, and she swung her head around to face me, her eyes wide. I swallowed thickly, unsure of what the hell I was doing. I wasn’t sure of much anymore. But she was the only person who had remained solid outside of my club brothers, despite me being a raging asshole toward her.
“I’m sorry,” I quietly told her. It was rare I said those words, but I meant them. She had me all twisted up inside, but that wasn’t her fault. That lied with me because I couldn’t sort my own shit out.
A small smile tilted her lips. Reaching up, she patted my unharmed cheek. “You’re lost, Whiler. When you’re ready for me to guide you, you just let me know.”
With that, she slipped out of the back and into the front passenger seat. Blowing out a harsh breath, I leaned forward, bracing my elbows on my knees, ignoring the pulsing throb in my side.
You’re lost, Whiler.
Fuck, she was right about that. I was so lost, I knew I’d never be able to find my way back home.
I’d been lost for five goddamn years.
* * *
When we got backto the clubhouse, I snatched a full bottle of whiskey from beneath the bar and headed up the stairs to my apartment to shower, get a bit drunk, and crawl into bed. I already had the bottle uncapped by the time I made it inside my apartment and was already guzzling a mouthful when I shut the door behind me.
