Chapter Eleven #3
I looked back at the wound, my eyes roving over him.
Shit he was cut, I’d never seen an eight pack in real life, but he had one, although it was slick with sweat and blood.
He had some tattoos but nothing like Hudson, there were a few quotes and what looked like abstract artwork, and a long, narrow crucifix on his chest.
I went to get some towels from the bathroom. I wet one and brought that and a dry one back into the room. I hadn’t really paid much attention to the surroundings, but the place was nice, considering a room for the night wasn’t that expensive.
“Use the vodka to clean it.”
“You’ve done this before?” I asked.
“Maybe.”
“Right, okay.” I hadn’t thought of myself as squeamish, blood never really bothered me, but this wasn’t like anything I had seen before. The wound was ragged and there was a lot of blood. I tried not to gag as I cleaned him up, then poured the vodka over the wound at his insistence.
He winced and his back arched, the muscles in his abdomen flexing. I caught as much of the off spill with the towel as I could and carried on cleaning until it was just the wound visible.
“It’s a graze, but it went deep without actually going all the way through,” he said. “Probably because I was moving so fast when it hit. We were lucky it didn’t go through you first.”
“Yeah, real lucky.”
“It’s not as bad as it looked, just bled a lot,” he ignored my comment.
He sat back, taking sips of the vodka as I worked, wincing at times but mostly he just sat quietly.
I used sterile strips to close it over as best as I could, put a large dressing over it then for good measure wrapped a bandage around it, circling his waist four times and securing it with tape.
I helped him into the bed. When I was done, he twisted his torso, seeing how much he could move, then he got up.
“What are you doing?”
“We can’t stay here.”
“You are in no shape to drive that bike, you need to rest and take these,” I thrust the pill packet at him then went into the bathroom for a glass of water. He was reading the box when I came back. “Just take them,” I said.
He relented and took two.
“We’ve already paid for the night, just sit down and shut up. I need to think.”
“Think?”
“Yes, Mace, think. We’re in a bit of a bind here, wouldn’t you say?” He glared at me and I glared right back. “How fucked are you?” I asked softly, sinking down on the carpet and resting my back against the table the TV was on.
“I’m sure you can figure that out, Waverley,” he said, closing his eyes and letting out a heavy sigh.
It was the first time he’d called me by my name. I looked at the floor.
He was so fucked.
“Nytro’s best friend got blown up.”
“Who?”
“Nytro, our President. Your family blew up his building, with him in it. He’s volatile, stupid,” he added, running his hand over his head. “That tipped him over. Danica only thinks she can control him, and to a point, I guess she could. But now.”
“What does that mean?” I asked him, getting to my feet anxiously.
“It means he’s unpredictable.”
“Will he hurt my family?” my heart started thumping.
“He’ll try. But like I said, he’s stupid. But that might make him more dangerous.”
“Give me your phone,” I hurried to the bed. “I need to call them.”
“No,” He shifted away from me.
“Mace, I need to let them know.”
“Your family aren’t stupid, Waverley. I’m sure they know who they killed, they did it for a reason. They can handle it.”
I stood over him, my arms crossed. He looked like shit but there was more in the depths of his green eyes as he held mine. His phone was buzzing. It had been doing it for a while as I was cleaning him up. I glanced at his hand where it was clutched.
“That’s them?” I asked.
“Non-stop. People I’ve grown up with, respected and worked alongside for years, all threatening me. You know, all the fun stuff they’re gonna do to me.”
“I’m sorry. You’re in this position because of me,” I said softly, lowering my eyes.
He laughed darkly and shifted on the chair. “Funny thing is, I’d do it again.”
I looked up sharply, trying to read his expression but it was as unreadable as ever, more even. “Knowing what would happen to you?”
“I’m not a monster. You didn’t deserve what they intended to do to you.”
I picked up the vodka bottle and drank some more. “We can’t just sit here. They’re looking for you.” He nodded. “We need my family, they’ll help us.”
“Are you hearing yourself, they aren’t going to help me,” he indicated his cut on the floor.
“They will when they know you saved me.”
“You’re out of your fucking mind if you think that’s true,” he scoffed.
“You don’t know them the way I do. I just need to speak to Hudson, or my brother.”
He shook his head. “You’re not calling them,” he started to get up, but he wobbled, his eyes looked like they crossed and he dropped back down, panting, clutching at his wound.
I leaned over to help him, getting him back onto the bed.
I took the gun out of the back of his pants.
It was a split second decision, I knew he was never going to hand over the phone without me having the upper hand.
A plan was beginning to take shape in my mind, one that could keep Mace alive but also get me back home.
“Fuck,” he hissed.
“I’m not going to shoot you,” I said. “But I am going to call my family.”
His eyes drifted shut before he snapped them open again, he was struggling to keep focused. The mixture of the pain, alcohol and painkillers were obviously getting to him. I hated to threaten him, but I had to.
“Give me the phone. I swear to you, I’ll convince them. Once they find out you saved me-”
He laughed and he tried again to get up but dropped back, grimacing in pain. “They’ll kill me.”
“If we don’t do something, your own club will track you down and kill you. I’m sorry to say it Mace but I’m the only chance you’ve got of surviving this. Is that what you want? You want to die?”
“If you want to call them, fine, go ahead and call them. But let me go.”
“Go? Where would you go?”
“What do you care?”
We stared at each other. I should just let him leave.
I shouldn’t care that he would be chased by the people who were supposed to be his family.
That he might be caught and killed. He was a part of them.
Shit, he may even have been involved in the decision to take Declan, to hurt Connor. I blinked back tears.
No, he couldn’t leave. He knew too much, he was too valuable. We needed him to help us figure out how to end this. I couldn’t let him leave. I lifted the gun and pointed it at him. I saw the betrayal in his face and felt awful doing it but it was the only way.
“Throw me the phone.”
“I won’t betray my club.”
“Any more than you already have?”
His eyes hardened, he looked like he was one step away from punching something. “You’re going to get me killed.”
“Let me worry about that. Phone. Please.”
He tossed it to the end of the bed. I picked it up and asked for the passcode which he gave me begrudgingly.
I knew both my brother and Hudson’s number by heart but as I stood there, I struggled over who to call.
Warren should be the obvious choice but with Connor dead, I didn’t think he would be able to pull himself back coming face to face with Mace.
Hudson was a hot head too but I’d always been able to talk him down. When we were kids. I wasn’t sure I still had that power over him but I had to try. Plus, I needed to see him. I wanted him to wrap me in his arms and let me know everything was going to be okay.
I tapped Hudson’s number into the phone. Mace didn’t move. Guess he figured there was no point. This was happening whether he liked it or not. The phone clicked on after about three rings and I heard the voice that made my legs go weak.
“Hudson.”