Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
SOFEE
“The Proposal or How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days?” Tatum chirps from the floor of my apartment. She’s sitting with her legs crossed in front of her, holding up both DVDs as if this is the most important decision she will make all day. Her deep purple ponytail shimmies as she shakes both of them in her hands, trying to prompt us to make a choice quickly.
“Yuck,” Max grimaces beside her. She’s lying on her belly with her feet up in the air, ankles crossed. I suppress a snort as she stuffs a handful of popcorn into her mouth, stretching it impossibly wide to fit all the kernels behind her lips. “Why do we have to watch a rom-com?” Her words are garbled by the buttery popcorn, but she still tries to speak. “I vote for Deadpool,” she manages around loud crunching before finally swallowing.
Tate whips her head in her direction and furrows her brows. She gestures around the room. “Why would we watch anything other than rom-coms? It’s girls’ night,” she shakes her head with clear exasperation. “And though I haven't been a part of many girls’ nights, I do know that most girls like romantic comedies,”
Max moves to her hands and knees before quickly twisting to sit on her hip. Her oversized sweatpants cover her bare feet as she curls her legs behind her. I’m not even sure how she isn’t sweating to death underneath the suffocating fabric. All I’m wearing is the shortest pair of bedtime shorts I own and a worn, ragged tank top, and I’m still feeling the heat of the day.
Her mouth drops open as she glares at her friend before swinging her gaze toward where I sit on the bed. She waves her hand in my direction. “There is literally a boy here,” she screeches as she points at the man lying on his back next to me.
Miles looks extremely comfortable in my bed. He’s relaxed on his back with one ankle crossed over the other and his hands behind his head. Like the rest of us, he’s in pajamas for the evening. He smiles broadly, letting that one dimple wink at Max as he responds to her accusation. “Just because I have a penis doesn’t mean I can’t be one of the girls,” he puckers his lips and blows a kiss into the air.
I can’t help but snicker as he sits up and swings his legs around. He then wraps his long legs on either side of my thighs before pressing himself against my back. I lean back against him as he wraps his arms around my middle and places his chin on my shoulder. “But even if I am a real boy, I’d pick my girl Sandy B over a gory action movie any day of the week,” he shrugs.
Miles has spent the entire day with us, so it stands to reason that he is an honorary girl. This is the first time I’ve invited him over to the clubhouse to meet Tate and Max. I figured it was far past time for the three to meet if they are all going to force their friendships on me. And since Tatum barged into my room this morning and declared it girls’ day, it seemed as good a day as any to introduce them. Needless to say, after a day spent doing all the girly things like at-home manis and pedis, he fits right in with the rest of us. He’s even staying for the sleepover I seem to be hosting.
Max rolls her eyes before glancing back at Tate, who raises her eyebrow in an “I told you so” way. I giggle as Max curls her nose and tosses a handful of popcorn right at her face.
Tate tilts her head to the side before sucking her teeth. “Rude,” she says before picking up a piece of the discarded popcorn and tossing it back at her. Max moves quickly and catches the piece in her mouth. Miles chuckles at my back at her display as she does a quick fist pump before flipping off her bestie with a smile.
Tate squints at the smaller woman, but I can still see the smile of fondness twitching at her lips. “Sofee,” she says before flicking her dark gaze to me and shaking the DVDs in her hands once more, rattling the discs within. “Ryan Reynolds in a regular suit or Ryan Reynolds in a rubber suit?” she says with a wiggle of her eyebrows.
I bite my lip to stop my giggle. “Well, when you put it like that?—"
A loud crash coming from downstairs interrupts me before I can finish speaking. The smiles on both girls' faces vanish instantly as they turn their gazes toward my closed door. I jump in Miles' arms, feeling him tighten his grip around me.
Before I can even think to untangle myself from him, Tatum stands and rushes toward the door. She stops at my dresser and reaches behind the big mirror at the top. I furrow my brows in confusion as I hear something tearing, and then her hand reappears with a pistol in it. My mouth drops open as I inhale, and my eyes widen. I didn’t know that was there… Why is there a gun in my apartment?
I have no time to vocalize my confusion before she turns back to face us. Her eyes are harder than I’ve ever seen them before as she releases the safety on her gun and catches me with her intense dark eyes. Gone is the friendly girl who was just smiling and arguing about romantic comedies, and in her place is a cool professional I’ve never met before.
“Stay here,” she orders before glancing at Max. She nods quickly before turning and rushing out the door, leaving it wide open as she does.
No sooner than she disappears down the hall does Max roll from her spot on the floor and stands on light feet. She rushes to my closet, pulling the shutter doors open wide. Stretching up on her tiptoes, she reaches for one of the old boot boxes Liam left behind when he moved out.
I pull Miles’ arms away from me before standing up from the bed. “What are you—” I start, but my thought is interrupted as Max pulls yet another pistol out of the box and checks the clip. I hold my hands up as she walks out of the closet with confident steps. “What is going on?” I ask in a rush.
My heart rate quickens as my adrenaline spikes. Max glances at me, and for a moment, I think I see sympathy shimmering in her honey-colored eyes before they harden.
“Sofee!” Tatum yelling my name with panic in her tone makes me rush for the door. Max moves as if she's going to jump in front of me. I quickly push past her and the door, practically jogging for the staircase.
My palm squeals against the handrail as I fly down the steps, not caring about my state of dress. In my rush, I trip and end up stumbling down the last few steps. Barely managing to stay on my feet, I search the room for Tatum as chaos surrounds me.
Tables and chairs have been pushed out of the way, with some seeming to have tipped over in the rush to move them. Several men, all clad in black, are bustling around the room. The majority gathering near the kitchen doors. I recognize some of them as members of The Insidious, but there are a few others I don’t recognize at all.
I stare at the back of one in particular. He seems familiar to me, even though I know deep down that I haven't the slightest clue as to who he is. His hair is pitch black, and the only exposed skin I can see is his corded forearms covered with dark, unfamiliar tattoos. A glimmer catches my eyes and draws them to his right hip, where a shiny golden pistol sits in a holster. I swallow thickly as a rush of nerves expands in my chest before quickly flowing to my extremities.
“Sofee!” I hear Tatum’s panicked voice again and rip my gaze away from the familiar back and move toward the kitchen. I can barely make out the top of her purple hair as she’s surrounded by the MC.
My stomach drops at the feeling of dread enveloping every one of my nerves. I quickly glance back and see Max and Miles hovering by the stairs. Max’s eyes mirror the wildness I feel in my own, while Miles appears to be curiously observing his surroundings.
“Get my bag,” I say quickly, already knowing I’m probably going to need it. I don’t wait for either of them to follow my order before turning and rushing toward the kitchen.
I shove through the crowd of men as the bright lights of the kitchen shine light on what’s happening. I notice most of The Seven gathered around one of the numerous prep stations in the industrial kitchen. I take note of their ruddy faces, each adorned with splatters of blood. In fact, there is blood everywhere. On faces and hands, even the floor. Something I only realize when my bare foot slips in a puddle of it, causing me to almost fall on my ass.
Then I see Declan standing with his back to me, as rigid as I’ve ever seen. He seems to be leaning over the stainless-steel countertop, and it takes me a full moment to realize that someone is lying on it. But when I do, I rush to push through the men.
All the warmth leaves my body as a shiver snakes down my spine at the sight I see. There, on the shiny countertop Cooper always keeps so clean, is my brother. He’s shivering as if he feels the same chill I do, only I know it has nothing to do with the temperature but the lack of blood. The same blood that’s dripping from the counter onto the floor below.
Declan’s hands cover the obvious GSW right below Liam’s ribs on the left side of his torso. Although he is slowing down the flow of blood leaking from the wound, I can tell it will do no good. I’ve seen far too many gunshot wounds during my years as an ER nurse. I know that the patient won’t stop bleeding until the bullet is removed from the body. And bleeding out isn’t the most pressing matter at the moment. If Liam has a punctured lung, it could spell disaster, and I won’t even have a hope of helping him with my limited tools.
“What happened,” I ask dumbly as I step forward. All eyes fly to me as my heart threatens to climb up my throat and suffocate me.
“Help him,” Declan’s voice is the first one I hear.
“Shit,” Liam groans as his eyes fall on me. “Now I really am dead,” he smiles. “Hey, baby sis.” I know he’s trying to make me feel better by teasing, but it’s not working as I visually assess him. He’s paler than I’ve ever seen him before, and his lips have a purple tint to them.
Not good.
“Hey, you’re gonna be fine, look at me,” Tatum says as she hovers over my brother’s head, forcing him to look at her. “It’s just a flesh wound,” she lies.
“Move!” Max’s voice draws my attention to the doorway where she’s pushing through the men blocking the way. She holds my heavy backpack and swings it like a weapon to get them to move.
“Everyone out!” Owen’s voice booms, causing me to jump and face him.
All at once, everyone besides Owen, Tatum, Declan, and I start walking toward the door. The men all shift, and I watch each of their faces as they cast sober glances at my brother. It dawns on me that they don't see this ending well.
Max quickly hands me my heavy bag before leaving the kitchen and shutting the swinging door behind her. Then, everything goes quiet except for the voice inside my head. Right now, she is losing her shit because her brother is bleeding to death in a fucking kitchen.
No, no, no! This is not happening. Not Liam. How did this happen? I can’t be forced to stand here and watch my brother slowly bleed to death! It’s too m ? —
“Sofee!” Declan barks, causing me to jump again. I shake myself and mentally slap the neurotic bitch that resides only within my psyche.
You’ve treated wounds like this before. Get your shit together and save your fucking brother. I scold myself before taking charge.
I shut down the part of me that crumples at the thought of losing Liam and put my professional persona in place. Marching up to the counter, I lay my bag down before ripping the zipper open. Quickly, I grab some of the medical supplies I always keep on me for moments like this.
The large bottle of rubbing alcohol is the first thing I grab, quickly followed by forceps, tweezers, and a scalpel. Next, I reach for my stitching kit, bandages, and an IV kit. Lastly, I pick up my stethoscope and immediately place it in my ears, pressing the diaphragm to Li’s left side, on top of his lung. I close my eyes and listen to his shallow, rapid pulls of air.
Dry respirations, no lung puncture.
I wrap the stethoscope around my neck as I glance up at Owen. “He needs O-negative blood,” I say before turning in a rush. Catching sight of the industrial-sized gas stove, I quickly step up to it and turn the burner on high before grabbing one of the many long-handled metal ladles. Multiple other utensils are pulled from the container as I yank the one I need free. They fall to the floor in loud metallic clangs that echo within my head. Sidestepping them, I place the ladle handle over the raging flame on the stove. I’ll be needing it soon.
Returning to my brother's side, I slide my eyes to Declan’s hands, still covering the wound. I hear Owen's heavy boots thudding past us as he heads out the door. Trying not to dwell on how he's going to get his hands on the blood I need, I grab a handful of gauze before glancing up at Declan.
His eyes are wide and frantic as they bounce between Liam’s wound and his face. His nostrils are flared wide as his rushed breath escapes his chest. I place my hand on top of his bloody hands holding my brother's wound. I can feel how fast his heart is racing.
“You can let go now, I got this,” I say as I gently pull him away. His eyes flutter as if coming out of a trauma-fueled trance before he jerks them away from my touch. His movements are jerky as he steps out of my way.
I should be concerned about his mental state right now, but Liam doesn't have the time.
Before he’s completely out of my way, I crowd him, pushing him back, away from Liam. No sooner do his hands leave the wound than it starts bleeding again. His shirt has been ripped away from the wound, allowing me unhindered access to the small bullet hole. Seeing only an entrance wound and not an exit wound, I cringe at what I’m going to have to do next.
Assessing the situation swiftly, I cover the wound with gauze. Li grunts as I apply pressure. I lift my gaze to his face, capturing his attention.
“I need you to listen to me,” I say calmly and precisely. His lips are shivering like he’s about to go into shock, but he keeps his gaze locked onto mine. “I’m going to have to make the wound bigger and dig the bullet out. It’s going to be extremely painful, but I have to do it to stop the bleeding. I don’t have any painkillers, so you’ll probably pass out, and that’s fine. It’s imperative that you hold extremely still for me.”
He says nothing but still nods before letting his head fall back to the counter. I pick up the still-packaged scalpel and rip it open quickly before opening the bottle of rubbing alcohol. I pour the alcohol all over my hands and the scalpel before glancing up at Tatum.
“You’re going to need to hold him down,” I say.
She meets my stare with determination as she nods her head and moves to hold down his shoulders. Suddenly, Declan appears to her right with a wooden spoon. He doesn’t explain himself as he simply places it between Liam's teeth. Once he bites down, I remove the gauze and pour the disinfectant directly onto the wound. Liam groans low in his chest at the sting. It only gets worse from here.
With a deep breath and one last look in his eyes, I nod at my brother before steadying the blade against his side. At his returning nod, I slice the already ruined flesh below his ribs. And I have no hope of stopping the tears from springing to my eyes as his howls of agony fill the clubhouse.