Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Sway sat by her brother’s bedside, silently crying as she watched her only family being kept alive by machines. The doctors said there was no brain activity. She wanted to hit something or someone. She wanted to scream and tear her hair out. She wanted to know why her brother had been attacked and left for dead. Sway knew where she would find those answers. She knew who had them. When she found Jerome Michel, he’d tell her everything she wanted to know.
The nurses turned off the machines that were keeping her brother alive. One by one, they all went quiet. Sway’s hand lay on Tesh’s chest as it rose and fell. Once, twice, then it stilled. The last machine beeped with a constant shrill that signalled he was gone. It was the harshest sound she’d ever experienced.
Sway stayed by his side for hours waiting for the doctor to come in and pronounce the time of death. When he was done, he spoke to her briefly about which funeral homes she could call to pick up the body. It was all so clinical, it made her angry.
Tears streamed down her face as she left the hospital room to call the funeral home. Sway couldn’t bring herself to make that call while staring at her brother’s lifeless body. It was all to final. Opening her phone, she looked up the number and made the call that would forever change her life. Saying the words out loud would mean it wasn’t a bad dream. It would mean Tesh was gone, that he was gone and nothing would bring him back.
“Taperman and Sons Funeral Services,” the voice said across the line.
Sway sucked in a breath. “Hello.”
“Can I help you, miss?”
“Yes, my brother just . . .” Her lip trembled, and her hands shook. The rest of the conversation was a flurry of questions that Sway barely remembered answering. When she hung up, she headed back to Tesh’s room to wait. The woman on the phone said the driver would give her paperwork that would tell her everything she needed to know. Re-entering the room, Sway was shocked to see Tesh covered head-to-toe by a sheet. Rushing over, she snatched the sheet from his face so he could breathe. That thought brought her up short and her knees buckled, sending Sway to the cold tile floor.
She didn’t know how long she remained on the floor with her head resting against the bed. A gentle hand brought her attention to a man standing next to her. “Miss Roussin?” he asked her.
“Yes. ”
“I’m Mr. Taperman. I’ve come to pick up Tesh,” he said with empathy. The poor girl looked lost and sadder than he’d seen anyone in a long time. Glancing at the young man in the bed, he saw the similar appearances. Offering his hand, he helped the young lady off the floor.
“I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.”
She and Mr. Taperman spoke for a few minutes before he suggested she head to the funeral home. He assured her that he would take great care with her brother. Thanking the older gentleman, Sway walked back to the bed, leaned over, and kissed Tesh’s forehead. Stepping back, she turned and walked out of the room. The hallway was busy with nurses moving from room to room. Machines were rolled in and out of rooms, no doubt helping to save other patients still fighting for their lives. Sway made her way to the elevator and waited for it to arrive so she could take care of Tesh one last time.
Stepping into the elevator, Sway looked in the mirror that made up the back wall, and the girl staring back at her looked lost. God, she just wanted her brother back. She wanted her life back the way it had been four days ago. She looked older than she did hours before. Grief did that to you , she thought. It stole time from you. Leaning forward, Sway rested her forehead against the mirror, taking time to get herself together. She needed to find her strength if she was going to survive this. “Why did you go, Tesh? Why didn’t you listen to me that night?” she asked out loud.
The pinging of the elevator had her looking at her reflection again. Squaring her shoulders, Sway dug deep for courage. For the first time in her life, she was alone. When the doors opened, she stepped into the lobby. The noise was a stark contrast to the silence of the elevator. It reminded her that even though her life had changed, life itself still went on.
Vicious looked over his shoulder as he waited for Razor, who was visiting a patient on the second floor. There was a meeting at the clubhouse they needed to be there for. A week ago, one of the club’s hangarounds was attacked on his way to the clubhouse for the monthly poker game. That had coincided with a drop-off, which had led back to the Bloody Scorpions. The guy who made the drop didn’t know anything about the contents of the package or what had happened to the hangaround. They’d slapped the guy around a little before threatening his life and that of his family if they found out he lied.
They could tell he didn’t know anything. He was just a guy one of the Scorpions talked into making the drop. The guy probably owed them money, or they’d done exactly what the Royal Bastards had done—threatened his life.
A young lady with long, black hair stepped off the elevator, catching his eye. Turning fully, he tried getting a better look at her, but she was looking in the opposite direction.
“Someone you know, Vicious?” Razor chuckled as he followed the brother’s focus.
“No, but it doesn’t hurt to admire the view, Razor.”
“What has you haunting the hospital?” Razor asked as they stood, staring at the dark-haired woman making her way toward the exit .
“Teller called a meeting at the clubhouse. You don’t keep your phone on when you’re here. Thought I’d come by and give you a heads-up.”
“Thanks.” Razor was done and ready to get out of there. Slapping Vicious on the back, he nudged the brother along. It didn’t go unnoticed by him that Vicious was still staring at the dark-haired female who had just left the hospital.
“Let’s get going. The sooner I get out of here, the better,” Razor said, wanting to be anywhere but there.
Vicious knew how the brother felt about being there. The hospital wasn’t Razor’s normal place of business. He worked with an older doctor at a clinic on the north end of Montreal. The area was known for drug trafficking, assaults, theft, and prostitution. No one gave a shit what a bunch of bikers were doing down there. The people who lived in the area were the ones who couldn’t afford medical help and needed it the most.
Razor had been born into the lifestyle of a biker. According to the brother, he hadn’t been given a choice whether he’d be in the life or not. His mother, God rest her soul, had wanted Razor to be a doctor or a lawyer. He promised to go to school and kept that promise, but he had been pulled back into the club life after she had died. Razor had made a deal with his father to let him finish medical school and then he’d return to the fold.
He could have left the lifestyle once his old man had died, but instead, Razor found another home. One with the Royal Bastards. Like the rest of the brothers, he called the Bastards family.
“You on your sled or in the car?” Vicious asked .
“I’m on the bike. Let’s get going before we’re late and Teller fines our asses.”
Vicious laughed at the comment as they made their way outside. “The only brother exempt from this is Cree.” Joseph “Cree” Running Wolf was a nomad within the Royal Bastards. Since Teller came in, he demanded the nomads in the area to participate in church and all meetings.
“Has Cree checked in since he headed to the States?” Razor asked.
“Yeah, he called to let us know he arrived in South Dakota. He’ll be there for a while handling his grandfather’s estate.”
“Did the old man have anything?”
“I have no idea. All I know is there are things in Cree’s life that aren’t my business. He’s been with the club since the Montreal chapter started. That being said, he knows damn well if he needs us, all he has to do is call.” Vicious looked for a way to change the subject.
“You know they’ll have him naked in a sweat lodge doing peyote.” Razor laughed.
“I don’t care, but I wouldn’t mind doing a little peyote myself every now and again, maybe do one of those spirit quests I’ve heard about.” Vicious looked at Razor, who just continued laughing.
Stepping out into the afternoon air, Vicious changed the subject, keeping the conversation light. Heading toward the parking lot, he caught sight of the dark-haired female he’d seen inside. She seemed to be in some sort of distress as she stepped off the walkway .
Tears ran down Sway’s face as her foot slipped off the raised sidewalk, causing her to stumble. Throwing her hands out as she fell, Sway braced herself for the impact that didn’t come. Strong hands grabbed her around the waist, catching her before she face-planted on the sidewalk.
Looking over her shoulder, she saw a man with a concerned look on his face. “Are you okay?” he asked. His voice wasn’t one of an angel, just a saviour , she thought. “Yes. No. I don’t know.”
Vicious made sure the young woman was steady on her feet before letting her go. Glancing down at her feet, he worried she might have hurt herself. “Did you twist your ankle?”
Sway couldn’t help but stare at the man holding onto her. God knew if he let her go, she might end up on the ground. “What?” Drowning . . . she was drowning in eyes of green. Everything about the man screamed dangerous, but Sway couldn’t look away.
“Your ankle. Did you twist it when you stepped off the walk?” Vicious searched her face as she stared at him. Beautiful was the word that came to mind as he looked into eyes that matched a cold winter day.
“No, I don’t think so.” Putting weight on her foot, Sway felt no pain. She hadn’t hurt her foot, but if he’d asked about her heart, she would have said yes.
“Do you need help?”
The question brought her up short. Sway didn’t know what she needed. “No. I . . . my brother just died.” Why did she feel the need to tell this perfect stranger about Tesh? Because she needed to hear out loud that he was gone .
“Shit. That’s gotta be rough.” Vicious wanted to say something to help the girl, but he had nothing in his arsenal to help with grief. “Can we call you a cab?”
“My truck’s right over there. Thank you for saving me from hitting the pavement.”
“I’m glad I was able to keep that from happening.”
“Thanks again.” When the guy let her go, she felt cold. So cold, she almost stepped back toward him to feel anything but. Instead, she moved back. Waving at the two men she hurried toward her truck. She needed to get to the funeral home. To Tesh.
Vicious watched her walk away and thought it was a damn shame that such a young woman had to deal with that kind of loss. “You ready, brother?” Razor asked.
“Yeah, let’s get going.” Vicious walked toward his bike, watching the girl drive by in her truck. Damn shame , he thought.