Chapter 4
Four
IZZY
“ H ey, Hunny, don’t mind them yelling. The Reckless Omens brothers are always growly and loud when someone they know and protect gets hurt. I need to run some tests, but Dr. Adams thought you might need this. It’s a walking stick, so if you need to use the bathroom, it will help. If you’d rather not use it, let me know, and I can assist you,” the nurse blurts out, talking a mile a minute. I want to laugh at her rambling, but I can hear Hitter yelling curse words, and it has me a bit freaked out. Something must be going on, and with my luck, it involves me.
“One of them got hurt? What happened?” I ask the nurse, hoping she stays chatty enough to give me some answers.
“The Prez’s woman came in with a couple of gunshot wounds. Apparently, her stalker was pissed when she chose the MC man over him,” she tells me, placing the walking stick on the table next to me before I feel her moving closer.
I’m freaking out now, and I know if they checked my heart rate, it would sound like it was beating out of my chest. Without her saying anything else, I know who’s hurt and who hurt her. Piper, Devin’s daughter, was shot, and my brother was the one who did it.
What if they try to take it out on me? They don’t know my brother hates my guts. They might think he planted me in that cage for information. Even Devin won’t be able to trust me. My own blood tried to kill his. They all probably hate me because of my last name, and I don't blame them.
It’s stupid, but I thought Hitter might have been something, someone special. Now, we will never find out. I need to get out of here before he comes back. Before they try to question me about things I know nothing about. I know my family is into some very messed up shit, but I don't know anything about that, not out of protection but out of loathing. My family saw my blindness as a weakness, an imperfect blight to their perfect little family. I was a mistake that should have been disposed of years ago.
Now, this MC is going to think of me the same way, maybe even worse—as the enemy. I can't stand the thought of hearing Hitter talk to me like I don't matter. Like he hates me and hates the thought of me being around.
“I need some water. Is that okay? Can you get me some water?” I ask the nurse before she starts taking my blood and other samples. I need her to leave just for a minute. Just long enough for me to get away.
“Oh sure, Hunny, water should be just fine. I’ll double-check with Dr. Adams quickly and be right back,” she says brightly. I hear her voice, and the steps get further and further away until I know for sure she left the room.
I quickly grab the walking stick and hop out of bed, wincing when my ribs ache. Hector got some good hits into my ribs a few days ago, and I’m still not sure if they are broken or not. I do know I’m not waiting around to find out. Not when, at any moment, Hitter and his brothers could come back in and take me to another cell.
I use the walking stick, trying to make as little noise as possible and retrace Hitter’s steps to bring me in here. I subconsciously and automatically map out everything I can when it comes to directions and traveling. I’ve done it since I was a kid, something most visually impaired people experience. I hold my breath, hoping and praying no one from the MC, the nurses, or the doctors recognizes me. I make it to the bank of elevators without incident. Luckily, someone is getting off at the same time I’m getting on.
“Oh, excuse me, ma’am. Here, let me help you. Which floor would you like?” the kind man asks as I enter the elevator.
“The ground floor, please,” I tell him, wanting to get to the hospital lobby as fast as possible.
“There you go, darlin’. Be safe,” he tells me as I hear the doors close. Then I feel the whoosh of the car going down, and in no time, I’m in what I’m hoping is the lobby. As I step out of the elevator, I bump into someone and apologize automatically.
“Oh, Hunny, you’re all right. Do you need help finding something?” a pleasant older woman’s voice rings out.
“Actually, yes, I need a bus. Is there a bus stop around here somewhere?” I ask, thinking that leaving town is the wisest decision to make in my current position.
“Oh, of course, there is. If you walk out the main doors, make a right, and walk to the corner… Can you find the corner without walking into the road?” she asks me, and I know from her tone she doesn’t mean it in a patronizing way.
“Yes, ma’am,” I tell her.
“Perfect, dear. If you walk to the corner and turn right again, the first building is a bus stop. Oh, you don't have a purse. Here, take this,” she tells me, shoving a crumpled bill in my hand. I forgot I don't have money or anything, but I still refuse to take advantage of this nice woman.
“Oh no, I can’t. I’ll find something else.” I try giving it back, but she pats my hand.
“I can tell you’ve had a hard few days, maybe even more. If you’re running from a man or trouble, then I will help. I’ve been there before, baby girl, and a nice older man helped me out. Let me do the same for you,” she says, and I can’t help it. I hug her, letting a single tear fall before thanking her and hurrying toward the exit.
I make it out of the hospital, turn right, and after what feels like forever, I finally make it to the corner. I feel along the wall trying to find the door to the bus station when it finally opens. I move my walking stick around, making sure I don't hit anyone with it, and just try to walk straight. Luckily, the attendant sees my struggle.
“Keep walking about five paces straight, and you’ll make it,” he tells me in a cheery voice. I try not to blush at his loud voice bringing attention to me, but I hold my head up and walk five paces in front of me.
“Hello, I’m Wyatt. What can I do for ya today?” the friendly guy says when I reach him. Before I can answer, someone behind me speaks up.
“You fucking serious? We’ve been here for ten minutes. She needs to go to the back of the line and wait like everyone else,” a man somewhere behind me grumbles. I blanch.
“I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I can get back and wait my turn,” I stutter, knowing my entire face is probably beet red. I wish the floor would just swallow me up.
“And you will be here for another thirty if you say one more word about this beauty,” Wyatt announces before addressing me. “Now, Hunny, I can help you.”
“Just ‘cause you’re trying to get in her pants doesn’t…” the man starts again before Wyatt cuts him off.
“Say another word, and you won’t be getting any tickets today. Oh, and if you can’t tell by my outfit and painted fucking nails, she’s not exactly my type,” he says to the man before whispering to me, “No offense, beautiful.” Then he’s addressing the man again, loudly. “If you weren’t such a complete dick, you might actually be attractive and more my type. Now, my question is, are you trying to get on the next bus out of here, or are you just trying to get my attention?” When the man doesn’t speak up again, Wyatt adds, “Thought so.”
I feel his attention return to me before he speaks again, this time with a distinct chuckle in his voice. “That always shuts them up. What can I do for you today, babe?”
“Oh, uh, I just need the next bus out of town. As far away as you can get me,” I tell him, placing the bill the older lady gave me on the counter.
I have no clue how much it is, but I’ll figure everything else out when I make it to wherever I end up. I know this plan is stupid and reckless, but I have no other choice. If I stay here, I could end up worse off than where I was just rescued from. My heart is still fighting my brain. It’s convinced Hitter would let nothing happen to me like he promised. I want to believe him, but I know my brother can be a smooth talker when he wants something, just like Hitter seems to be, and look at how evil that bastard turned out to be.
“Out of town fast, hmm? There is a bus leaving in ten minutes, headed to Florida. Or if you want to wait an hour, there is one heading to Michigan,” Wyatt tells me.
“I’ll take the one to Florida,” I tell him, knowing I’m already on borrowed time. I can’t wait here for an hour for them to find me.
“Alrighty, here you go. This is your ticket,” Wyatt says before handing me a piece of paper. “I’m on break now, anyway. Let me help you to the bus. That way, you aren’t stuck sitting for hours beside some creep.” I smile at him and let him lead me to my bus. Hopefully, it’s to my future, my free future.