Predator
Fury flowed through my veins as I returned fire with whoever was up on the ridge.
The idea that anyone would endanger Devyn and Daya infuriated me.
I wasn’t concerned with the ones in the SUV.
It was a club vehicle, which meant it was bulletproof.
My woman was returning fire as Stalker weaved the bike they were on.
Sighting a side road heading up toward the shooter, I jerked my handlebars and took it.
However, by the time I got up there, the vehicle was gone.
I followed the road along the curve of the ridge line, but didn’t see anything.
I bet as soon as I took up that side road, whoever it was, took off like a bat out of hell.
I raced along a mile or so before turning around.
I refused to go further and risk the others being left vulnerable if there was more than one shooter.
“They’re gone. Let’s get the hell out of here, just in case. Daya, please, get in the vehicle.” I shouted to be heard over the bikes' engines.
She frowned as she shook her head.
“We can’t do what we need to if we’re worrying about you,” Stalker backed me up.
Daya rolled her eyes, but she did give in and get into the vehicle. With seating for seven, everyone had room to sit. I kept my head on a swivel, and the way Ace and Stalker were turning their heads on the rest of the ride, I knew they were hypervigilant, too.
Later, when we were still fifteen minutes from the compound, I saw bikes headed our way. It took no time to recognize they belonged to us. Someone, likely Keenan, had contacted the clubhouse. The whole group surrounded the SUV. I eased back on my tension just a tad.
When we got home, Ivan must’ve heard us coming because the gate was opening before we got to it.
And after we were inside, it slid shut. We all rode up and stopped at the clubhouse.
After dismounting and helping the women out of the vehicle, we hurried inside.
The buzz in the air was electric. Bull and the other officers met us.
“What the hell happened out there? Keenan called and said you were shot at,” Bull thundered. Jocelyn was hugging Devyn.
“We were. I tried to catch whoever it was shooting at us from a ridge, but they got away. I was afraid to go too far in case someone else was nearby to help the culprit or the person double-backed somehow,” I explained.
“The bullets never came near anyone other than Stalker and Daya. They were the target,” Keenan announced.
His revelation made everyone stop talking. I gave Stalker a look. He was thinking the same thing as I was. Running eyes over Daya, who seemed calm, I didn’t notice any blood that would indicate she’d been hit. But I asked anyway.
“Hailstorm, we need to check you out. Make sure you weren’t hit,” I told her.
Seconds after I said it, she grimaced. Like lightning, Stalker and I began examining her. Her jacket was removed. She tried to push away our hands, exclaiming she’d do it herself, but we ignored her. My heart pounded. What if she were hurt?
It wasn’t until we moved to her backside that we saw the blood on her shirt.
It was low, down where the tucked-in shirt met the waistband of her jeans.
The stain was getting bigger. It seemed that the tight jacket had acted as a pressure bandage, and now, with it gone, the wound was freely bleeding.
Not saying a word, I swept her up into my arms before yelling.
“She’s been shot. Zara! Where’s Zara?” I hollered.
“Right here,” Zara yelled back, then the crowd parted, allowing her to the front. She was in her professional mode. It was evident from her facial expression.
“Take her to my room,” Zara ordered.
I didn’t need to be told twice. A small group accompanied us. Of course, Stalker came, and we had Stryder, Breezy, Zara, Bull, and Demon. I understood why Bull would want to be there. Demon was Zara’s assistant. She’d trained him to be a medic. He had the aptitude for it.
Stalker got the door. The club had created a clinic-type room for Zara to work on us when needed. It was equipped with a lot of the things you’d find in an ER. I placed Daya gently on the table. I positioned her on her uninjured side.
“Stay like this. Zara has to be able to see the wound,” I told our old lady unnecessarily.
“Melyster, is the pain too much?” Stalker asked.
“Guys, it’s alright. The pain is tolerable. Don’t get wound up. It’s not serious,” Daya told us.
“How the hell do you know it isn’t?” I snapped.
“Because remember the scar I showed you on my arm? The twin to yours? I’ve been shot before. I know what it feels like.”
Recalling her explaining to Stalker and me how she got the scar on her left arm had bothered me. It was ten times worse now. I wanted nothing to harm her, even if only superficially. As we talked, Zara was slowly easing Daya’s top out of her waistband.
“Cut it if you have to. I can get more,” Daya said.
Breezy was teary-eyed. Stryder was at the bedside, out of Zara and Demon's way, holding Breezy. His expression was grim.
“Hey, no need for tears, Breezy. I’ll be fine,” Daya assured her sister. Breezy gave her a watery smile.
A hiss from Daya made me tense. Stalker frowned. Zara was intently examining the wound, bent over and touching it with her gloved hands.
“Sorry, I’m trying to clean away the blood to see what we’re dealing with,” Zara told our woman.
“It’s okay. Do what you have to. The bullet is gonna need to be removed. There’s no exit wound in the front. I don’t believe it hit anything vital. Can you do that here?” Daya asked. Her calmness never faltered.
Bull remained by the door. His thunderous expression told me he was pissed. After way too long in my mind, but merely a couple of minutes, Zara straightened.
“You got lucky. While it’s not a through-and-through, it seems to have missed anything vital.
I can remove it here because it’s not very deep, but you’ll be awake.
And the pain meds won’t prevent you from feeling it.
The meds will lessen it, but not eliminate it.
I suggest we go to the ER. Dr. Jeffers might be there or one of the others I know. ”
A growl came out of Bull at the mention of Dr. Jeffers’ name. Sure, he was a good doctor from what I heard Zara say, but he had liked Jocelyn early on when she got with Bull. He didn’t like Jeffers because of that.
“Hey, he’s a good doctor. And he doesn’t cause drama when he treats anyone from the club.
I know he likes Jocelyn, but because he does, he won’t do anything to bring unwanted attention to the club.
And since this is a gunshot wound, technically, he’s obligated by law to report it to the police,” Zara reminded us.
Bull sighed. “I can’t help it, but you’re right.
He would do anything to protect Jocelyn.
Of course, if it were me he had to treat, he’d let me die in the hope he’d get my Duchess.
He doesn’t know she’ll never have anything to do with him, even if I am dead.
Do whatever is necessary,” Bull finished saying.
“No, I don’t want to chance that Dr. Jeffers isn’t there.
Others will gossip and call the cops. We can’t have that when we’re waiting to find and kill Marshall.
Forget it. I can take the pain. Just juice me up as much as you can and go for it.
I’d clear the room, though. The words I’ll probably say will educate you.
I don’t want to be a bad influence,” Daya informed the room.
She smiled then winked. Her remark got chuckles out of several of us.
“If you think you can be dirtier than a biker, then Predator and Stalker are falling down on the job. We’ll teach you ones you never knew,” Demon told her.
“Deal. Let’s do this,” our old lady said to Zara.
“Okay, we need to clear the room. Stalker, Predator, you can stay if Daya wants you to. But stay out of the way. I’m sorry, but the rest of you have to leave.
Demon will be here to assist if I need him.
I’ll make sure he gives you updates and tells you when you can see her.
I know this is hard to do, but I’ll be as fast as I can,” Demon’s woman assured everyone.
I was glad she said Stalker and I could stay. There was no damn way I could stand in the hall and wait. Before they left, Breezy and Stryder leaned down, murmured in Daya’s ear, and then kissed her cheek. They went with Bull.
Stalker and I talked softly to Daya as Zara and Demon prepared for what was to come.
The medication they planned to give our woman would go into an IV that Zara placed.
She informed us that after the removal, she’d want to give Daya some fluids and an IV antibiotic as a precaution.
Because she put the painkiller in the IV, the effect was almost immediate. A goofy smile spread over Daya’s face.
“Oh yeah, that’s what I’m talking about. What did you put in that?” she asked Zara.
“It’s a concoction of a few meds used when doing surgery. You’ll find it hard to recall exactly what we did, sort of like amnesia. I’ll give you a local anesthetic, too. This combo is Tramadol, Propofol, and Dilaudid.”
As Zara finished explaining, she got to work.
“Predator, Stalker, ease her onto her stomach and then stay by her head. You can hold her hands if she wants,” Demon instructed.
We did as asked and then snagged Daya's hands.
She was super relaxed. I watched Zara inject around the bullet wound.
After a minute, she removed her gloves and scrubbed up past her elbows.
Demon put a mask and a new pair of gloves on her.
He then scrubbed and gloved his hands. His mask was already on.
A tray of wicked instruments was opened and lying on a silver tray.
Zara was careful and as gentle as possible, but Daya still cried out in pain. She squeezed our hands hard. There were swear words, but nothing we didn’t know. To distract her, Stalker, Demon, and I teased her about her lack of biker vocabulary and taught her new combinations. Time seemed to drag.
“I’ve got it,” Zara said a second before the sound of metal hitting metal rang out.
I glanced over to check out the bullet. At first glance, it appeared to be a very mangled possible nine-millimeter. Demon, Bear, or Bull, one of the other military guys would know better than me.
Zara and Demon kept their hands going. They were using gauze, a liquid they squirted into the wound, and then sutures.
“We’re done. You can relax, Daya. We’ll keep in the IV.
I’m gonna hook you up to a liter of fluid and add the antibiotic.
Once those infuse, you’ll be able to move around freely.
Keep the bandage dry, and I’ll want to change it tomorrow.
If you spike a fever or have an increase in pain, etc.
, then have one of these guys call me. Bullets can be notoriously dirty.
They’re second only to knives. I detest those,” Zara rattled off.
“Thank you two so much. I know what to watch for,” Daya said, drowsily.
“She’ll probably sleep for a while. Her adrenaline has dropped. And the medication is making it worse. Let her rest,” Zara told us.
“We can’t thank you and Demon enough, Z,” Stalker said before I had the chance. He was stroking Daya’s hair.
“Yeah, thank you.” I tagged on.
“You guys can relax. She’ll be fine. I’ll make sure of it. We’ll leave you with her as soon as our mess is cleared away. Text if you need me,” Zara said.
Demon had been cleaning while she talked, so there wasn’t a whole lot left for them to do. Then we were alone. Daya had drifted off. I met Stalker’s eyes.
“It had to be that motherfucker Marshall,” I whispered.
“Agreed. It had to be him. But how the fuck did he know where she was? The only ones shot at were she and I, I think. If it were someone out to hurt a Warrior, they would’ve fired at you, Ace, Devyn, or even the SUV. We need to find out if the vehicle was hit,” Stalker whispered back.
His phone came out, and he tapped away.
“Who are you texting?”
“I’m asking Ace and Keenan to check out the bikes and the SUV. I want to know if there are any bullet holes in them.”
I nodded. We stood there. Watching our woman sleep, waiting to find out whether she was the actual target.