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CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
*Brodi “Bro” - Tail Gunner*
:Cash: Bro… I did a thing. Lace agreed to try stunting with me. But I am fucking spazzing. Took her to the old amusement park. Come be my wingman and make sure I don’t fuck this up.
That is what I fucking woke up to. Here I am next to Baylor’s side, lacking in sleep, and Chaz is fucking around with Lace. Stunting no less.
As usual, we kept the details from last night quiet from both Kio and Chaz, for now. The less our members know — until or unless they need to — the better. Always helps with any potentially-needed alibis. Plus, the assignments themselves wear on us enough. No need to add extra stress when unnecessary.
They both are aware something went down, though, of course. Kio knows to avoid the only bedroom in the condo that has a closed door, and if Chaz is stunting, that means he is releasing some pent up worries. Hanging with Lace and stunting.
Chaz is definitely spazzing. My money is that he has an assignment this afternoon, too. So, yeah, I get it. I really do. But, what damn timing. A tight huff puffs from my nose. I don’t bother to respond to the text, knowing he packs his phone away before riding anyhow.
A groan comes from beside me, knocking me out of my thoughts and back to the patient at my side. “Well good morning, sunshine,” I greet. Thank goodness I was right last night; his battle wounds are a lot less dire than they seemed at first. Most of the blood belonged to the target. Bay will definitely hurt for a few days, though.
Zane wakes up with a snort from the opposite side of the bed. He lasted a while sitting in here with me before eventually passing out in the high-backed stool he dragged in here from the kitchen bar.
The entire experience was good for him, but his mind will very likely be even more fucked up than Baylor’s side by the time the rally is over. The stab wound will heal. Zane’s mind may never. Just like the rest of ours.
Baylor opens his eyes, and he blinks at me. “Ah,” he says. “The undertaker has come to collect, I see.”
My lips twitch at the side, but I manage to keep a straight face. “Nah, no undertaker here. Better check to make sure, though. Rumor has it, the undertaker is lacking in the nether region.” I stand to unzip my pants and test his response time. He passes with flying colors, head jerking sideways away from me, and backhanding Zane accidentally.
“How are you feeling?” Zane asks, rubbing his arm.
“Well, I feel like a guy who almost died last night but was the patient of a caretaker unwilling to give mouth to mouth.”
Zane smiles for the first time in hours, shakes his head, and rests back in the stool.
“Where is Vee? Is he… is he okay?” Bay asks next, finally facing toward me again.
I jerk my head toward the door. “Here. Acting all morose and shit. Like his lover died.”
Baylor blinks a few times, head adjusting straight, eyes darting toward the ceiling, and nostrils flaring with a sniff.
Then he brushes the emotion away and attempts sitting up with a grunt. My hands dart out to help him, but he swats me away, scoots until his back is solid against the headboard, and takes several choppy breaths through the twinge of pain. “What are we dealing with here, Doc?” he asks. “And why the hell can’t I remember much?”
“Well, we don’t know exactly why you passed out on the assignment. Our guess is maybe shock or pain. But we’ve seen you walk away from things more painful, so we decided on shock. You stayed that way because I gave you a sedative. Had no idea if all that blood was yours or not at the time or how bad of a wound we were dealing with.” I know he is eager to ask his own questions, but I have one more incredibly important one before he can take the stage, even if I hate having to ask: “Did Vee slip? Is he to blame for this?’
“Not at all. Target got fucking carried away during the recon, was in a… mood. We had to step in before the assigned time.” He lifts his arm and peers down his nose at the bandage. That explorative gaze flashes upward again. “Did the victim get out?” he asks.
“With help. She has a room in intensive care,” I answer.
Bay grinds his teeth but nods. “What’s my recovery time?” he asks next. “Can I ride?”
My hand rubs at my chin, and he groans. “I’m not staying in bed all weekend, dammit.” Bay slowly moves his legs to the edge of the bed and practices getting up.
If he can move, he will ride regardless, so instead of answering him straight, I swipe the pill bottle off the side table, shake it to get his attention, then toss it at him. “Keep drugged up, and you should do fine with short distances for now. Take care of yourself, though, or your stay in the Gulf Coast will be extended. Driving back will be a bitch if you don’t heal at least a little between now and then.”
He grunts and flaps his hand at me. “I know you and Vee got shit to do. Go away.” Bay passes his memory test; there’s recon to do before our hit tonight. He turns his attention to Zane and says, “You go away, too.”
Zane stands, and the two of us exit together. He heads straight toward the kitchen, but I decide to pop my head out and holler at Vee on the deck first. “Hey. I have a stop to make before our lunch date this afternoon; I’m about to head out now. Bay is awake, and Kal wants him fully updated on what went down after he passed out. You cover what happened before we got there. Zane will handle the rest later.”
Vee nods with each instruction, but I was hoping for at least a little verbal recognition. I step out, slide the door closed behind me, and lean my elbows on the railing beside him. “Hey… you still good with trying that new restaurant for dinner, and are we still swinging by there this afternoon to take a look at the menu posted outside just to make sure it works for our budget? I know your wallet is a little lighter after covering the bill last night.” Oh you know, just two love birds on a sweet little Florida vaycay.
My off-the-cuff analogy makes him laugh. “Yeah, still good. Two meals a rally per person keeps every wallet from getting too light. Hopefully this place will be a little less expensive, though.”
“I hear that.” His smile drops and he stares back out at the gulf. I bust through that silence before he gets too comfortable again. “Talk to someone, Vee. This shit is not good for you or the club. Time is ticking. We need you.”
