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Oh my god, am I being called there to say goodbye to him?
Why would they call me, I am not exactly in a relationship with him?
So many emotions run through my body and mind.
“Come on, I will drive you.”
I nod to her, she helps me into her Jeep, then we drive towards the compound.
“He will be fine.” I can hear the worry in her tone which does not make me feel better. “The guys from the club get hurt all the time and it is never bad, but they always call everyone there so everyone knows what is happening, okay?”
I nod numbly.
When we arrive at the club, I watch as Genesis drives through the gates, with a nod from the guy standing guard.
“Hey, I bet you he is fine,” she says as we climb out.
Walking the short distance to the door, we head in and I see everyone standing around talking. Sarge comes to me with a grim look on his face, but I also know that Sarge is not one to overly smile all the time, so his expression means nothing.
No fucking help there.
“Darcy, girl. My boy is okay, Cal freaked the fuck out. Idiot. Maverick was on a hunt with his boys when they got into it with some rich punks. He took a blade to his calf, and a deeper slash to his bicep. That is the one that needs stitches; the one on his calf is not as bad. Come, he is in the medical room with his mom.”
He takes my hand and leads me from the main room, down the hall to a bedroom. All the while my heart is pounding in my chest, like it is trying to run away. Nibbling at my lip, we step into the room where Maverick is and I see him.
He is sitting up in bed smiling with two older ladies, one who has similar features to his. I assume she is his mom; the other woman is tapping away on a tablet in her hand. He looks up, seeing me with his father and his lips tilt up, giving him that handsome look that I have always liked.
He is shirtless and I see the bandage around his bicep, but see no other injuries, which makes my worry ease a little.
“Baby.” He holds his hand out to me and I rush to him, not giving a damn what people will think. I need to see and feel that he is genuinely okay. I can only imagine that bikers play down injuries.
“Are you okay? Truly? Your father explained things to me, but tell me.” I feel a hand on my back and know that it is Cal.
I lean into his touch, soaking up the warmth and comfort that I need right now.
“Oh, she is not taking Sarge’s word for it. She is in trouble,” someone mutters then coughs, laughing.
“Ignore him. He is an idiot,” I hear one of the women say.
Cupping my face, I look deep into Maverick’s eyes, seeing mischief.
“Baby, I am fine. Our man freaked out seeing all the blood. Jodie patched me up and I am ready to go when you are.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“Now is not the time for sex jokes, Maverick. You could have been badly hurt for fuck’s sake,” I snap at him.
“Damn, I like her,” Sarge says.
“Me too, honey,” the woman I assumed was his mom replies, confirming my thoughts.
Glaring at him, I look down at the bandage on his arm, then back to the woman who was checking on him.
“How bad is this?”
“He has seven stitches in his arm and six in his calf, he will be fine.” Jodie gives me a reassuring smile and I nod as an idea pops into my head.
“Ow, what the fuck was that for, woman?” Maverick cries out, placing his hand over his injury that I just poked, hard.
Everyone laughs, while I glare at him.
