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“That’s enough.” The stern words come from my timid nurse as she pushes her way between the wall of Kings, and the two detectives. “I am trying to treat my patient, and you are doing nothing but making that impossible. Mr. Black and the other patients here will be available to answer your questions as soon as they’ve been treated. Until then, kindly leave.”
The two detectives smirk down at the short dainty nurse, but snicker and turn away, leaving the emergency room, just as she’d asked.
“Damn.” Munroe grins down at the woman, whose eyes are now locked on Slasher who has stopped pacing and is staring down the two cops behind the glass like he’s getting ready to pounce.
“Is he going to be a problem?” the nurse asks, turning back to me. “My staff have already removed too many bullets today. I’d like to avoid more.”
I want to grin at the feisty nurse, but I can’t conjure the action. Instead, I grunt at Tex, who is on my other side.
“Coax Slasher down. There’s been enough bloodshed today.”
“On it,” Tex mutters, stepping away to handle Slasher.
He hasn’t been right since his brother died.
Munroe also steps away from me, and I ease back onto the gurney where the nurse sets to work on my leg again.
As Munroe hovers, his eyes more interested in the nurse stitching me up than my welfare, I let myself get lost in the words the detectives spoke.
“Word is it’s not looking hopeful.”
“I guess that makes you number one now.”
“If Mr. King doesn’t survive.”
No. This can’t happen. I’m not meant to step up until Rocco decides to step down. He’s not meant to fucking die on me.
“I need to know how my Prez is. When will we get an update?” I snap at my nurse, and she shrugs.
“It will take time. He’s in surgery, which is a good thing, but there was a lot of damage. The surgeons will need time to fix what they can.”
What they can?
Shit. I don’t even want to comprehend what the fuck that means.
“Has his next of kin been contacted?” I ask the nurse, not taking my eyes off the cops that have their eyes on Slasher who is still staring at them, just this time it’s from a gurney in a curtained bay as a nurse patches him up.
“I believe so.” The nurse admits, and my heart sinks.
Cara.
If Rocco dies, this is going to destroy her.
As my mind goes through all the fucked up scenarios, it shouldn’t even be contemplating, the ache in my chest has me longing for my princess.
I want her here with me, but she’s safer out of the way and hidden out of sight in Dirty Diamonds where Cain can watch over her. I should call her, but I don’t want to worry her. I also can’t bring myself to tell her about Rocco. I can’t bear to say the words that I’m worried he’s not going to make it, because if I do, then they might fucking come true.
One by one, we all get patched up, and one by one, the men make their way to my bay, standing at the end of the uncomfortable bed, looking to me for instruction.
Shit.
I’m all they have right now. With Rocco temporarily incapacitated, I’m number one. Their fucking acting President.
My mind flits back to that day all those years ago when Rocco and Cara formed the Cruz Kings.
We had our first meeting where we were all patched in. We were given our patches and titles, and it was the beginning of something big. Now as I stare at the men before me, my chest aches with the knowledge that we aren’t all here. There are some missing. Some that will never return, like Gunner and Slayer.
If Gunner were here, I’d ask him to be my second, but he’s not, and I’m still not sure how to feel about his death, and the confusing mess he left behind. He was the club’s Sergeant at Arms, and the natural progression for that role is VP.
