The Wild Wolf Pup (Zoe's Rescue Zoo #9)

“We’ll give you Motrin—” he begins again.

“I said no. I’m a recovering addict so if all I got is a few broken ribs I’ll survive. Now, I need to get out of this bed,” I tell him, pushing the hair away from my face so he can see the sincerity in my eyes. “I’ll deal with the pain by not being kept away from the people who need me so how about you go get my discharge papers and stop wasting my time,” I say, my patience running thin.

“Do you realize you’ve suffered a traumatic experience? You survived a bomb,” he replies incredulously.

“I’m well aware of what I survived, and the bomb is one of many on a list of lethal things,” I tell him as I grab my blood stained shirt and try to put it on. “If you won’t discharge me, I’ll sign myself out.”

Giving up on the shirt, I toss it onto the bed and grab my leather jacket. I mask the pain in my ribs as I shrug it on and tip my head to the doctor.

“If you’ve got some time on your hands, there’s a pregnant woman who’s in labor, a deaf man with burns, another one with two broken legs, should I could continue?”

I didn’t give him the opportunity to answer, pushing back the curtain of the triage cubicle. I walk passed him and straight into the chaos of the emergency room. And chaos it was. I don’t know if they were understaffed or if collectively we had too many injuries, but doctors, nurses and attendants ran around from cubicle to cubicle, treating the victims.

At the compound I was too consumed with making sure Lacey was okay to take in the destruction, but seeing the magnitude of devastation antagonized me, planting the seeds of revenge in my mind.

Images of Ronan flash in front of my eyes, the bomb strapped to his chest, the horror reflected in his eyes as he steps further into the clubhouse. The sound of the explosion rings in my ears and I fight against my natural instincts to flee the hospital and go hunt for the men responsible for this.

“Blackie,” Lacey calls, pulling me out of my vengeful thoughts. I blink to clear my vision and focus on my girl. Staring at her doesn’t alleviate the dire need for revenge, if anything it broadens it. She looks exhausted, a million miles away and hanging on by a thread. The stitches on her eyebrow and the dried up blood along her hair line doesn’t help matters.

I lift my hands to her face, run my thumb over that pouty lip of hers and lean my forehead against hers.

“You see your father?” I ask as her hand travels down the front of my jacket and her fingers graze the gauze wrapped around my midsection.

“Barely, I’ve been with Reina the whole time,” she lifts her gaze to mine. “My dad can’t hear, Blackie. The doctor’s say its temporary but aren’t a hundred percent sure.” She pauses to assess my features. She informed me of Jack’s diagnosis but her eyes are looking to me for answers.

“You got something you want to ask me, girl?”

he shook her head.

“The answer is in your eyes,” she whispers as she grips the ends of my jacket and diverts her eyes downward. “My dad won’t be able to ride with deaf ears. He will step down until he’s better and someone else will step up. That someone else is you. Even if you weren’t the vice president, it’d be you, you’re already plotting how to make this right. I see it in your eyes.” She lifts her head and stares back at me.

She was right and there was no sense in denying it or making excuses. When I accepted my role within the club, I knew one day this could happen. At one point I even wanted it—to be next in line for the gavel. It wouldn’t have been a forced decision like it is now, ideally, my brothers would’ve voted me into the head of the table after Jack retired.

The Satan’s Knights haven’t gotten this far in the game by letting our enemies win. Our creed isn’t one that accepts defeat. They strike, we strike back. They kill, we extinct. If Jack is in as bad a shape as Lacey is saying he is, he won’t be able to lead our club and it will be my duty to do so in his place.

Glancing around the emergency room I decide it would be my fucking honor to take down the motherfuckers that did this. But, looking back at Lacey I question if retribution on this disaster is worth her sanity. As strong as she is there is only so much her mind can withstand.

I’ll take the gavel, lead the ride in our quest for retribution and leave Lacey back home with her demons. I struggled back there for a minute, denying the drugs the doctor was ready to feed me because I have a handle on whether I succumb to a relapse. Lacey is different. She can take her meds daily but they won’t always silence her maker. She’s fragile and sitting home, knowing I’m risking my life to pay back the people who took life from our club, well, I fear that’ll send her over the edge.