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“Do what you have to do,” Riley told her as she scrambled out of the window then rushed across the highway, yelling for the attackers to stop.
* * *
The sound of truck doors opening and feet running in his direction had Preacher looking back over his shoulder. He barely dodged the first swing as a fist came at his face. Preacher spun around, blocking the next blow.
One-on-one was an easy fight. Two-on-one was winnable. Four-on-one wasn’t good odds, and he knew the four guys with face masks on weren’t looking for a simple tussle. He kept moving in an attempt to give himself room to block the fists and feet coming at him. Doing the best he could, Preacher managed to hold his own until he blocked left, faked right, and that’s when he felt the knife blade stab into his side. Instinctively, Preacher gripped the handle, keeping it in place. He knew pulling it out could do more damage. Stumbling back, his feet were swept from underneath him and he hit the ground hard and curled in on himself in an attempt to shield the knife so it wouldn’t go in farther.
He felt the first of many kicks to his head and body as multiple boots struck him. In the distance, a woman screamed, and then the attack stopped. The sounds of running feet, doors slamming, and squealing tires were all Preacher heard. Then, hands were cradling his head and a voice was telling him to hang on. Preacher tried getting up, but his whole body rebelled as pain shot from his midsection, and his eyes focused on the knife. All he saw was blood. Too much blood.
“Here, let me help you,” a feminine voice said. He’d barely glanced over when the woman at his side wrapped an arm around him and helped him to the car. He half walked, half let her drag him to the passenger side. When she managed to get him into the seat, he closed his eyes.
As Riley ran around the front of the car, she saw Scout and Kit were gone. She knew the deal. She had exposed herself, so the other girls had to leave to finish the job. They had told her not to get out of the car, but what was she supposed to do? Leave him to die in a parking lot?Alone?
She didn’t have time to worry about the repercussions of her actions. They might have only minutes to get him to the hospital before he bled out. The knife blade could have nicked his spleen or ruptured his intestines. Anything could be going on inside his body. If it was his spleen, he could be bleeding out internally.
The door closed with a loud, heavy thud that seemed to echo inside the car. Glancing over at the guy, he didn’t look good. She quickly tugged her hoodie off and wrapped it around the knife, trying to secure it in place.
“Just hold on, okay? I’m taking you to the hospital.”
The hospital was ten minutes down the road, close enough to get him help but far enough away that he could die. She’d seen gut wounds on the battlefields. Being trained as a combat medic, she’d seen a lot of shit. Some she had managed to help save, some she had lost. Tonight, she was praying she could get this guy help and save his life.
“Bones. Call my brother.” She heard the weakness in the guy’s voice as he pointed to his phone in the holder.
“Okay” was all she said, starting the car. She managed the car and the phone as she pulled out onto the highway and shifted into third gear.
“Preacher! Are you coming to the clubhouse?” The voice was loud as it came through the Bluetooth system.
“Bones, you don’t know me, but your brother was attacked. He’s been stabbed. I’m headed to the hospital in Fort Bragg with him. Meet us there.”
“Fuck! I’m on my way. Just take care of my brother till I get there,” he said, then the phone went silent.
“Did you hear your brother? He’s coming to meet us.”
She didn’t get a response. When she looked over, he was slumped against the door. Hitting the gas, she blasted around cars, darting in and out of traffic. From the highway, Riley could see the hospital sign lit up in bright lights wrapped in a white plastic shell. Past it, she saw the Emergency Room sign glowing red and white. She barely tapped the brakes as she came up to the road. Making the turn, she almost took out a stop sign.
Driving fast cars was like breathing for Riley. Her feet moved on instinct as she downshifted.
She felt the tires grip the concrete and let the steering wheel float to the left, righting the car. Shifting into the next gear, she hit the gas. She looked over at the injured guy and reached her hand out to move hair from his face.
“Hey, are you still with me?” she asked, praying he would answer her. He still made no sound. The shirt she had wrapped around the knife was covered in blood.
“Damn it!”
Punching the gas, she took the next left as the sign pointed toward the ER, then barreled up to the doors. Hitting the brakes, Riley threw the car in park and jumped out. She left the driver’s side door open as she rushed through the airlock doors, screaming for someone to help.
“My boyfriend’s been stabbed.”
She knew they realized she was serious as they took in her appearance. Blood covered her shirt and hands. “Hurry! I don’t know if he’s still alive.”
Chaos erupted as emergency room technicians rushed out toward the car. She heard codes being called out over the speakers. She didn’t know what they meant, but she prayed they were calling for more help.
Twenty minutes later, she stood against a wall in the waiting room. Her hands held the injured guy’s wallet, keys, dog tags, and jewelry. Memories flooded in on her as she stared at her hands streaked with dried, crusted blood. Looking around, she spotted the restrooms and quickly headed for them. The last thing Riley needed was to have a crisis moment in the middle of the waiting room.
ChapterTwelve
Shoving open the door to the ladies’ room, she made sure to lock it once inside then leaned back against it. She hated hospitals. The sound of people in pain. The panicked words as others waited on news about loved ones. The smell of cleaners that made her want to throw up.
“It’s just a place. It can’t hurt me. It can’t hold me captive,” she told herself.
