Flyboy’s Nightingale (Hell’s Sacrifice MC #3)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER

ONE

Riley

I step on the elevator as I’ve done a thousand times over the last few months, knowing that today is going to be like every other day, but pray that it'll be different.

“How’s he doing tonight?” I inquire as I make my way over to the nurse’s station on the ICU floor. Nurse Beverly looks up from her charting, giving me the same sad smile as she does every day, when I ask this very question.

It’s been four months since Flyboy was rolled into the ER by an ambulance. Four months since I’ve heard his smart mouth as he walked into the ER for his shift. Four months since I’ve felt him tug on my hair. I replay the last time we talked at Razor and Edge’s wedding over and over in my dreams. Each time, my heart clenches tighter in my chest.

Her words derail the runaway train of memories that were colliding through my mind. “His brain swelling has come down enough that they’re hoping to start weaning him off his anesthesia.”

The surgeons were able to save him, and said that everything looked good, so all we could do was wait to find out how bad things may end up being. They’ve had him in a medically induced coma since that tragic night, giving his body a chance to mend and heal as he sedately rests.

I can’t hide my excitement concerning this plan of action, even if I wanted to. Things over the last four months have been so touch and go, that I truly never thought this day was going to happen. Being a nurse in the ER, with a specialization in physical therapy, I knew having hope was dangerous, but I couldn’t help it. I hoped with everything inside of me that he would pull through and recover.

“Riley, don’t get overly excited. You know that could mean nothing at all. One day at a time,” Beverly says with a sweet, sympathetic smile.

I know she’s right. I know that the outcome and events could be nothing less than catastrophic. Coming off long term sedation could make things so much worse, not better in the long run. What I do know though, is that this man hasn’t fought this long and hard, to give up on things now. He's going to make it through this ordeal. He fucking has to, dammit.

Beverly squeezes my arm before walking away. Taking in a calm breath, I push through the door, not at all shocked to see Duck sitting by his bed, scrolling on his phone.

“Where’s Lil’ Red?” I wonder aloud, seeing as they’re never far apart from one another.

He looks up grinning, and conveys, “She just went to the bathroom. You know I’m not going to let her stray too far from my side.”

I chuckle, shaking my head while checking over the monitors, and looking over all of Flyboy’s IVs. I trust Beverly, and all the nurses on the ICU floor, but I have to reassure myself that he is getting the very best care possible.

“Riles, they just checked over everything not too long ago, and said it all looks perfect,” Duck whispers, with dark shadows that I’ve never seen before, filling and dimming his eyes.

“I know. I can’t help it. I would never forgive myself if something happened that I could have prevented by double-checking.” I feel raw as I battle against all of the myriad of emotions warring inside of me, vying to escape, doing my best to keep them hidden and buried from others.

“Duck, leave her be. This is how she takes care of Flyboy, and you are going to let her do that,” Lil’ Red says, coming out of the bathroom and glaring at him the way only an Ol’ Lady can.

“Yeah, do what she says, and leave me alone!” Laughing, I stick my tongue out at him, playfully putting him in his place.

I quickly turn away, praying that he knows I’m teasing, and that I haven’t stepped over any invisible boundaries. Club guys do not do disrespect of any kind. Growing up, you respected the men in the club, or you faced an ass whooping. That went for everyone involved, no matter who you were, or who your father happened to be. I stand stiff as a board, apprehensively waiting for retaliation from Duck.

Lil’ Red’s soft voice calms my nerves… slightly. “How long are you going to stay today?”

“I’m headed down to the ER in about ten minutes. I just wanted to stop in, since I won't be able to make it by to check on Flyboy again, until the day after tomorrow.”

“Is everything okay? You always see him when you get off work,” Duck inquires, sounding equal parts confused and concerned.

“Everything is perfect, just have an appointment scheduled after my shift, and I don’t know when I’ll be done,” I tell him with a shrug.

“Got you. Prez and Torch wanted me to ask, and see, if you wanted to come to the next family picnic at the club. They want to say thank you for everything you’ve done for our brother.”

Panic slams into me hard and so rapidly, I see shards of stars dancing behind my eyes. I can’t be at the club. Fuck, I was barely able to be there when I had to help Flyboy with Edge the day they brought Edge in, beat to shit. There is no way I can be somewhere like that on my own. I’ve taken major steps to avoid all things motorcycles, and groups of large, ominous men. My breathing becomes choppy and ragged. I know from past experience that I’m about to pass out.

Dammit, I haven’t had a panic attack like this in—I don’t know how long. Ice-cold hands grab my arm, causing some of the panic to melt away. I use the icy hand on my arm as a way to ground myself, so I can focus on the here and now. Vaguely, I hear someone asking me to hold something.

I look down at my hands, wondering why I’m holding a pillow and a cup of ice chips. Then I look up, to see Lil’ Red talking steadily, and calmly. I focus on her words, trying to decipher them to where they make sense to my turbulent thoughts. That’s when I notice she is talking about pink snakes and flying monkeys. What the hell is she talking about? This woman has lost her marbles.

“Lil’ Red, have you lost your mind? What the hell are you talking about?” I ask, my brow furrowed in bewilderment.

“It’s a trick that I learned in therapy. When someone starts to fall into a panic attack, you first shock their system with something cold, and then you hand them two random things while talking complete nonsense. It causes the person's brain to let go of the panic and focus on what you’re saying,” she tells me with a small, nonchalant shrug.

Placing the pillow and cup of ice down, I reach out hugging her. “Thank you. You have no idea what your friendship means to me.”

“I have no idea what that was all about, but if you ever want to talk about it, or just, you know, hang out, I’m available,” she whispers to me.

“That means so much. I’m okay right now. I promise that I’ll reach out if I can’t handle it.” I feel like a bitch for lying to her.

I know that I should, and could call the girls to talk about everything, but I can’t. How do you tell the women that have come to mean so much to you, that you can’t reach out to them about what haunts you, when they live in the lifestyle that terrifies you?

Or the fact that if all their men were in the same room, at the same time, I would be a weeping puddle on the floor? Even if I’ve come to know that the men of their club would never lay a finger on me, or intentionally hurt me in any way. You can’t undo all the trauma and pain that stems from the past, in one fell swoop.

And until I can be honest with them, I have to keep them at a distance, for both their safety and mine.

The day I can hold it together anytime there are more than three men in a room, is the day I’ll finally know that I can make it at the clubhouse, just hanging out.

A squeeze on my arm lets me know that I’ve gone down the rabbit hole once again. I shake my head trying to dislodge all this menacing shit loose, focusing solely on what’s going on around me, and not the monsters lurking in the shadows.

I smile wide at her, and state, “I have to get to the emergency room for my shift. Please let me know if there are any changes.”

“Sweetie, we both know that if there are any changes, they will let you know before informing anyone else.” Lil’ Red grins, winking.

Returning her smile, I turn, leaving to go start my shift. I know I am setting myself up to be hurt. This can only end one of two ways. One, he doesn’t wake up, ever. Or two, he does, and still wants nothing to do with me, other than being his plaything—no better than a blow-up, sex doll.

Knowing I could never settle for being a plaything… well, never again anyway. I use my time in the elevator to bury the memories of that foul time in my life. They are not around, and I left them behind—hundreds of miles away. They don’t know where I am, and I’ve been beyond careful to make sure of that, tiptoeing around so that they won’t have any reasons to find me.

I’m safe, happy, making friends, and doing what I love. I make it to the nurse’s station just as my best friend, Avery, comes stomping out of an exam room. She spots me, and the sweetest smile spreads across her face, letting me know that she wants something from me.

“I’ll buy you your ice coffee, every day for the next two weeks, if you take room four,” my best friend, Avery, begs, a pleading look bouncing around behind her eyes.

“Why in the heck would I do that? What are you not telling me?” I raise an eyebrow at her in a mocking manner.

“I don’t know, something about the guy just rubs me wrong. He’s a complete fucking tool, and the girl with him, is just too young. It’s just nasty. I can't do it,” she growls, glaring forebodingly at the door.

“Is he from here? What are they doing here?” I ask, shooting one question out after the other in rapid succession.

“No, they aren’t from around here. They were traveling to some resort, and he started to have chest pains. Little Miss, with him, got scared, and made him come here to get it checked. The ick factor is just way too much for me. I just can’t do it. Please!” she begs, giving me huge, round, puppy dog eyes.

“I need more than coffee. Sweeten the deal, what else have you got for me?” I ask, bartering.

“Name the price, you wench. Tell me what it’ll take to keep me from having to go back in there with grandpa, and his jailbait.” Avery makes a crude face as she spits out the description, as she sees it, between the two.

“Coffee, massage, and you take my Saturday shift this week.” I wink, pulling the patient chart up on my tablet.

“Fine, you win. I will give you my first born if it means you’ll deal with the felony in that room!” she shouts.

I turn, looking at her with wide eyes, and chuckling, state, “Avery, you better not say shit like that. You’ll get us both fired!”

“You will completely understand when you get in there,” she reasons.

I shake my head, because this woman is a whole lot of crazy, wrapped in a tiny body. Whoever finally gets her to notice them, and give them the time of day, will have the time of their life. I look over the chart, taking in the information they gathered at intake. I give the door four swift knocks before pushing into the small room, determined to finish getting the data that’s needing to be entered before calling the doctor in here for an examination and diagnosis.

“Hi, I’m nurse Riley. Can you tell me what brings you into the ER tonight?” I question, still checking the chart in front of me.

“Ummm. Well, you see, we were on the way, like to the lake, for a long weekend, like when, my man, started having chest pains, with a really bad headache,” a high-pitched voice explains.

I barely stop the eye roll at her Valley-girl verbiage, before slapping a sincere smile on my face. When my eyes land on the couple in front of me, I’m barely able to stop the laugh from escaping after remembering Avery’s words. She is not wrong, the man in front of me is old enough to be the grandfather to the blonde, sitting next to him.

Something about the man is familiar to me, but I can’t put my finger on why.

“Can you tell me more about the chest pain, and what you were doing when it started? Also, let me know if this is the first time that this has happened.”

The patient chuckles, before answering, “We stopped for the night in town, and were in the middle of one-on-one time, when the pain started. I told her that it was nothing, but she wouldn’t let it go. So instead of being at the lake, like we should be, we’re here.”

“Well, that does sound stressful. Let me finish out your chart so I can hand it off and get the doctor in here so you two can be on your way,” I tell him.

The older gentleman looks up at me. He tilts his head to the side, watching me. I give him my polite smile thinking the same thing. Something about this man is familiar, but again, I can’t put my finger on where or how that is even possible.

“Do I know you, dear?” he quizzes.

“I’m not sure that you do. I’ve been here for a while. Where did you say you are from?” I question as I finish checking his vitals.

“We’re from Texas. We flew into Chattanooga, and I have a lake house, about five and half hours away,” he states.

I choke and start coughing when he says Texas. Yes, it’s a big state, and he could be from anywhere in that region, but that is never my luck in life. Panicking, I start patting my chest to clear the blockage from the paranoia.

“Are you okay, dear?” he asks.

“Yes, I’m fine. Not many people who live in Texas have a lake house in Georgia,” I apprise him. I’m praying that he’ll stop talking so we can just get this over with, and I can shoo them out the door.

“Not usually, but I followed an old school buddy out there. I decided to hold on to the house, and now, I’m thankful that I did.” He smiles at the young woman, before lifting her hand to his mouth, and kissing her knuckles.

I think I throw up a little in my mouth at that scene of affection, that felt more like I was observing him molesting this—young girl. “That must have been some friend. The doctor will be in shortly.” I’m brisk, and to the point, wanting to limit my time spent in this examination room.

“Thank you, dear,” he replies.

“Not a problem. Hit the red plus button on the bed railing if you need anything before the doctor comes in,” I advise them, pulling the door open.

“Can I have something to drink?” he wonders.

“I’ll grab you some ice chips, but that’s all for now, at least, until the doctor sees ya.”

“That’s it. You’re Crispy’s kid. I haven’t seen you since you left. What, nine years ago?” Hearing my dad’s road name causes a cold sweat to break out, traveling up and down my spine.

Choosing not to answer him on who I am, I say, “I’ll get you those ice chips.”

I make it out of the room, and to the nurse’s station, before my legs give out. I prop my head in my hands, breathing in deep. What are the odds that some old man, that I barely remember, would be here at this hospital seeking treatment? It goes against the status quo that I would run across anyone from my old life in this town.

I have to fucking get out of here. There is no way in hell that I’ll be able to stay, because that man is going to tell my dad that I’m here. I will not bring that chaos back into my life. Those guys ruin everything that they come into contact with.

A hand lands in the middle of my shoulder blades, scaring me. “You just scared the shit out of me,” I gasp out, my heart racing.

“Are you okay?” Avery questions, sitting beside me, watching Nadya, our head nurse, and super bitch.

“Just a lot going on today. I’m scattered all over the place, and the hits seem to keep coming,” I confess to her, being as honest as I can possibly be.

“I’m here if you want to finally tell me about all the dark, little secrets you have stored in that soul of yours.” Avery reassures me as the tones drop and the place turns into a madhouse.

I spend the rest of the night barely able to breathe, much less think about all the shit going on around me. This is why I love the ER. You don’t have time to think, you just do. When our shift is finally over, I fight the urge to go up and check on Flyboy and head home to get some rest before my appointment later today.

My only hope is that today will be the day that I finally sleep, without the images of Flyboy covered in blood, haunting me.