“My girl grew some kind of attachment to your ass,” he muttered.
I sighed, dropping my head against the pillows.
“Well, we faced fucking death together,” I ground out, staring up at the ceiling. “From what I remember, Reina held her own. That woman of yours gave Jimmy one hell of a fight,” I informed him.
“Wasn’t talking about Reina,” he said, turning back and striding out the door without another word.
Yeah, I grew an attachment to her too.
Fuck me.
Chapter Fourteen
The doctors hate me; the nurses do too. I’m their worst nightmare, the worse goddamn patient to enter this hospital. They keep breaking my balls, telling me I need to take it easy and all that shit. They lecture me by saying I have to condition my heart, do some kind of physical therapy to build up my strength. They think if they put me on a treadmill I’ll jog my way to recovery.
Fucking bullshit.
These motherfuckers don’t know I’m a bull.
I caused all sorts of havoc when I stepped off the treadmill, dropped to the floor and did push-ups.
Protocol.
They say I don’t follow it.
I never followed rules and such, a little heart attack would not change that.
Once my stint in physical therapy was over, the nurse summoned for a transporter to escort my ass back to my room where my dose of methadone was waiting for me.
And a pissed off Bulldog.
“Look, Mr. Petra, you have a visitor,” the cheerful transporter exclaimed.
“Joy,” I said mockingly, sitting down on the edge of the bed and kicking back the dose of fake heroin as if it was a shot of the finest whiskey.
I pushed the empty paper cup onto the rolling cart before I lifted an eyebrow at the transporter.
“Something else you need?” I asked. The motherfucker was looking at me like I was supposed to tip him or something.
“Have a good day, Mr. Petra,” he stuttered, scampering out the door, causing a grin to spread across my face.
I’m a dick.
“What did he do to you?” Jack asked, reminding me he was there. I turned around and glanced at him and shrugged my shoulders.
“They fuck with me, I fuck with them…it’s a love-hate relationship,” I said.
“I wouldn’t want you as a patient,” he replied, standing up from the chair and making his way over to me.
I wasn’t expecting to see him, partially because I think he’s onto the fact Lacey isn’t just his daughter anymore, but the girl who has me twisted up in knots. The last couple of days, without the constant flow of my brothers visiting me, I sat here and thought of her.
“Lucky for you, you missed your calling in the medical field.” I tipped my chin at him. “Looking at you, I’m almost afraid to ask, what the fuck happened now?”
He bit the inside of his cheek, sucked in a breath before he leaned against the wall and shook his head.
“You were right,” he said.
“Going to have to be a little more specific,” I replied, narrowing my eyes as I peered at him.
“Sun Wu knows it was us that took the drugs,” he ground out.
“How do you know?”
“The motherfucker took Riggs. We didn’t even know they had him, Bones was the only one who suspected anything. Well, him and Bianci but that’s because Wu dropped his bike in front of Xonerated. They covered the bike and the front door of the gym in red paint,” he paused, looking like he was debating on whether he should continue.
“Just fucking tell me,” I said, clenching my jaw, making the decision easier for him.
“We were at Pop’s getting the guns ready for the deal we made with the Dragons, waiting for them to pick the crates up and Bones voiced his concerns,” he shrugged his shoulders, running his hand along the scruff that lined his jaw before he continued. “I figured Riggs had his head up his ass with all this shit going on with Bianci’s sister and the baby and he went off the grid on his own— “ “Jack, I don’t give two shits what you thought I want to know what actually happened,” I interrupted angrily.
“The back doors of the van opened, they started shooting as they rolled his body out of the truck and sped off. Wolf and Pipe took a couple of shots at the van but they got away,” he barked.
I blew out a breath, balling my hands into fists as I peered up at him.
“And Riggs?”
“They fucked him up, dropped him at our feet battered and bruised with a price tag on his head,” he said, pushing off the wall he was leaning on and crossed the room. “Literally, the cock-sucking bastard shaved two, five, zero on Riggs’s head,” he muttered.
“Two hundred fifty thousand,” I said.