I turned my head.
“I tried calling her,” she said after a moment and I snapped my eyes back to hers. “The girl that visits you,” she explained. “But she’s not on your contact list,” she continued as she glanced down at the restraints binding my wrists. “There’s been a brigade of people coming through these doors for you, a lot of people pulling for you, but her?” She shrugged her shoulders as she untied the restraint. “It’s painfully obvious she needs you the most,” she conceded, raising my free hand before placing it on the bed beside me. Her gaze met mine as she patted my hand. “Make it count, Mr. Petra.” She paused. “Addiction affects not only the person using, but the people who love that person, well, they suffer too.”
She patted my hand before turning around and walking out of the room.
I didn’t need to question who the girl was.
I knew it with every fiber of my being.
Lace.
And the idea of her sitting vigil at my side, wishing for me to wake up and be the man that sees her, gutted me more so than waking up only to realize the devil chewed me up and spit me out.
I faintly heard a commotion come from somewhere outside my room and tried to focus on that instead of my insides that were churning. I turned my head just in time to watch the pack of men, wearing that unmistakable cut, bulldozing their way through the nurse’s station.
“There he is,” Wolf cheered as he was the first to enter my room. He was quickly pushed to the side by Jack. His eyes locked with mine as he started straight for me. His expression was unreadable or maybe I was in too much pain to decipher it, either way I didn’t know what to expect. He pushed the machines out of his way, bent down, and took my head in his hands.
“My man,” Jack said, kissing my head before he leaned back and pinned me with a stare. “Left side of the table’s been empty, brother,” he explained hoarsely.
Two weeks being out of commission, off my bike and away from my chair at the table was too long. I left my brothers in the middle of chaos and confusion, went back on my word when I said I’d demolish Jimmy, and ruined the deal with the Corrupt Bastards.
I shook my head slightly.
I should feel some remorse, guilt maybe for all the shit I put my club through over the last couple of weeks but I don’t. I would do it again. I’d take the needle, let that bastard shoot me up with whatever the fuck he wanted. Give me another heart attack, do whatever the fuck you gotta do, but don’t touch her.
Not Lace.
And not because she was Jack’s daughter.
“I’m sorry,” I said, lifting my eyes to Jack.
Sorry for taking your little girl and making her mine.
“You got nothing to be sorry for,” Jack replied. “I owe you everything,” he reiterated. “You saved Lacey, and you kept Reina sane,” he continued. “You sacrificed yourself for the club and that shit deserves a whole lot more than a thank you. Need you well, Black, need you to reverse this shit Jimmy has you strung out on, knocking on death’s door,” he growled. “Whatever it takes, we’ve got you,” he insisted.
I remember him pleading with me after Christine died to get myself clean. He promised me we’d change the direction of the club, kick the drugs to the curb and make her death count. And mostly he lived up to his promise but Jack never banked on this shit with Jimmy surfacing. Yet, here we are and now I’m hooked on methadone, compliments of the hospital. The last few years, staying clean, trying to honor my wife the only way I knew how… all went to shit.
“Ay!” Pipe agreed.
I went against my word the first time I sat in front of Jimmy, chose revenge over my vow to Christine when I stuck that needle in my arm but I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought it was a step I had to take to make my way to the G-Man. But Jimmy, that motherfucker, took two weeks of my fucking life and made me break another vow to my wife. Two fucking weeks meant two Saturday’s I didn’t bring flowers to Christine’s grave.
“Did we get him? Gold is he…” My sentence trailed off as my jaw clenched with anger.
Two fucking weeks.
He better be dead.
“Oh, we fucking got him,” Jack assured. “Lit that motherfucker up,” he added.
“How?” I demanded.
I wanted to know everything, from the shock and horror in his eyes to the way his flesh smelled when the flames ate away at him. But before he divulged the sweetness of Jimmy’s demise, Jack needed to explain how he pulled this shit off without me and the deal we made with the Corrupt Bastards.
Jack turned around and pointed his thumb over his shoulder toward Riggs.
“This son of a bitch right here, saved the day, your life and my sanity,” he declared.