Chapter 29 #2
I grabbed her hand and put it over the shirt. “Hold that there for me. Can you do that, baby?”
“Yeah,” she whispered.
Mickayla was crouched next to Killian with her phone in her hand. “He’s been shot in the chest. The bullet went through someone else first.”
Adam came out with a stack of t-shirts we usually sold at the front of the store. He put two shirts on Killian’s chest.
I grabbed one from him and placed it behind Ivy’s shoulder. The faint sound of a siren could be heard. Lark tucked his phone away and set the rifle on the ground near the place where we’d been standing earlier.
He came to me. “Keep applying pressure. Club lawyer’s on the way. If the police want to question you, make sure a lawyer is present.”
A fire truck and an ambulance pulled to a stop in the parking lot. Two EMTs rushed out from the front of the ambulance, moments later another two came out from the back pushing a stretcher.
“Sir, we’ll take it from here,” one of them said.
I stood, but kept eye contact with my woman. “I love you, Ivy.”
Her lips curled just a little. “I love you, too, Ry.”
A Jacksonville Sheriff’s officer sped down the side street and came to an abrupt halt in front of the scene.
I twisted toward Killian. Rescue workers were moving him to the stretcher. Mickayla had tears streaming down her cheeks. She rushed to me and I wrapped my arms around her.
“He’s my triplet, and she’s my girlfriend. Where are you going to take them?” I asked, my voice raw.
“The trauma center downtown for both of them,” one of the firefighters said.
Another JSO cruiser had parked along the street, and the first deputy was taping off the area.
“Ryan, tell me he’s gonna be okay,” Mickayla whispered.
I gave her a squeeze. “He’s gonna be okay,” I muttered, but it sounded hollow.
“We gotta call Mom,” Mick said.
I shook my head. “Not yet.”
She leaned back. “It’s seven hours—”
“Lark called the club. Volt or Blood will call Dad. He and Mom will be on the road in no time.”
She exhaled hard. “You’re right.”
“If we don’t have to stick around here for the cops, I’ll drive you in your car down to the hospital,” I said.
She hugged me. “Okay. I love you, Ryan.”
“Yeah. I love you, too, sis.”
When Mickayla and I arrived at UF Health in downtown, half the club was in the ER waiting room.
Abby rushed over to us, with Blood following close behind. “I fibbed and told them I’m you’re aunt.”
“That’s not a fib,” Mickayla blurted.
Abby aimed a wan smile at her and continued. “Killian’s been rushed to surgery. None of the nurses are willing to give us an estimate on how long that might take.”
“Every patient is different,” Blood muttered.
“As for Ivy, I don’t know her last name which means nobody is giving me bupkis. I don’t work at this hospital, but my guess is that she’ll be done before your brother gets out of surgery,” Abby said.
Someone grabbed my bicep. I turned to see Debra staring up at me. “Is Ryan in surgery?”
I put my hand over hers. “Killian, my brother, is in surgery, Ms. Brummis.”
She dropped her hand. “For heaven’s sake, Ryan, you can call me Debra. How on earth is your brother the one in surgery?”
“It’s a long story. Let’s tell the nurse who you are. You’ll get more information on Ivy since you’re family, and they’ll probably let you go see her,” I said.
I stepped forward, then felt my sister link her arm through mine on my other side. My head turned to her.
Mickayla looked up at me. “I care about her, too, Ry.”
The three of us went to the nurse’s desk. The nurse told us Ivy was in surgery, also, and directed us to a waiting room on the second floor.
Mickayla shook her head. “My brother was brought in at the same time as her and he’s in surgery, too. Should we be waiting upstairs for him?”
After the nurse asked for our name, she checked her computer and shook her head. “No, he’s on the first floor.”
We turned away from the desk. I stopped and looked at Debra. “I’ll come with you to the second floor.”
She grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. “No, you can’t be in two places at once, Ryan. You need to find out about your brother. It’s written all over you that you’re concerned about both of them, but I’ll come get you when Ivy’s awake. No matter what, Ryan.”
I nodded. “Thank you, Debra.”
I guided my sister to a pair of empty seats next to Volt. He shifted to one of the empty seats, and Mickayla sat between him and his wife, Jackie, who held an arm out. Once my sister sat, Jackie wrapped her arm around Mick’s shoulders.
I sat on the other side of Volt, doing my damnedest to keep my mind calm.
“Lark called a moment ago. The police finished questioning him ten minutes ago. They’re sending an officer down here to talk to you. Maybe Ivy as well if she’s able to answer questions by then,” Volt said in a low voice.
My head moved in a slow nod. “Do you want me to wait for the club lawyer to get here?”
Volt shook his head. “Not necessary. Sig and Rusty didn’t make it.”
I twisted my head to look at Volt. “I didn’t think the second shot was fatal.”
Volt frowned. “Lark shot Rusty in the head because Rusty was aiming at Ivy. He’d hadn’t meant to kill Sig, but the EMTs said he was dead at the scene.”
“Did you or Blood call Dad?”
Volt nodded once. “Blood did. They’re on their way out.”
A clock on the wall indicated it was seven-forty-five. If my parents were already enroute, with good traffic, they’d get here around two-thirty in the morning.
“Dad’ll be lucky if he doesn’t get a speeding ticket,” Mickayla said, leaning forward to look at me.
I gave her a half-hearted smile.
Volt shook his head. “Gamble isn’t driving. He and Victoria are riding out with Block and Heidi in their Tahoe.”
It hadn’t occurred to me that this was so bad, Dad wouldn’t be able to drive out here. I tilted my head back, fighting against my swirling emotions. Rage that Killian put himself in that position, helplessness, and a desperate, clawing desire that he survive.
“Garrison family,” a male doctor wearing surgical scrubs said from the front desk.
Mickayla and I surged toward the desk.
“That’s us. We’re his siblings,” Mickayla said.
The doctor’s eyes darted past us. I looked over my shoulder and saw all my MC brothers standing at my back.
“They’re with us,” I murmured.
“I’m Dr. Ieverson. We removed the bullet from your brother’s lung.
He’s on a ventilator and he’s been moved to ICU.
The next twenty-four hours are crucial. Our primary concerns are infection and blood clots.
We’ll be monitoring him for both. He’s young and appears to be in good shape, so the goal is to wean him from the ventilator within thirty-six to forty-eight hours.
After that, he’ll likely be moved to a regular hospital room. ”
“But he’s going to be okay?” Mickayla asked.
Dr. Ieverson turned compassionate eyes to my sister. “I’m sorry. All I can tell you is that the next twenty-four hours are the determining factor.”
Mickayla’s inhale mingled with a sob, and I put my arm around her shoulders.
“Can we see him?” I asked.
“One at a time, yes. I’ll send a nurse out.”