Chapter Forty-Three
Itell ya, how the hell that made me a bastard, I had no idea, but I really didn’t like the fucking word. It was a sore point for me, what with being raised in the mafia by someone other than my parents. I definitely still fucking had one of each, even if I never saw them.
“Don’t call me that,” I said softly into her ear, as I leaned real close, letting my breath tickle her skin, sending a noticeable tremor through her.
“You… you don’t like it?”
“No.” I didn’t want Ice hearing this either, because it was never smart to give people something to use against you, even a friend. Even in banter, the word pissed me off.
“Grease?”
“I had parents. One of each. So I’m not a bastard, see?”
“Oh,” she breathed, as I tugged on her hair, and dragged her into a kiss, because when she parted her lips like that, it reminded me of all the things I still wanted to do to them. To all of her.
“This isn’t a shagging van, you pervs. If I see him get his dick out, I’ll cut it off,” Ice grumbled from behind us, leaving me grinning into our kiss, before I pulled back to flip him off.
“You wish you could get a glimpse of my fine cock.”
“I thought the golden monstrosity tucked in your pants was your overcompensation piece, man. I’ve seen enough already.”
I turned to give him a mouthful of the usual abuse, but he held up a hand, and because of the situation going on right now, and nothing else, I shut it.
“They’re wrapping up, apparently. Amato’s just coming out.” I wished I could go and put a bullet in that cunt’s face, but on the offchance Rossi was trying to build bridges, I held off.
I glanced at the buildings lining the street as I waited for the prick to appear.
“You guys checked all those flats opposite the shitty little club, right?” I mean, who calls a fucking club Eyegasm, right? No class.
“The ones we could get into, yeah. Some are occupied.”
Wait. I grabbed the curtain again, attempting to scrutinise the many windows, which had sunlight reflecting off of the glass. It was impossible, but this should have already been dealt with.
“You’re telling me there could be a fucking sniper in one of those flats?
You should have fucking said that sooner!
” I dragged the van door open, and hopped out, running down the street, with one hand already on my gun.
I wasn’t leaving this to chance, because clearly those assholes didn’t get how dangerous this was for Rossi.
We should have parked nearer, I cursed to myself, as I watched Amato being driven away in a dark car, and the door opened again.
I ran alongside the building, my gun in hand, safety off, and I watched in horror as the light reflecting from one of those windows suddenly adjusted, as someone opened it. FUCK!
I reached the door just as Rossi stepped out, and my gun was already aimed at that window, bullets flying, and hoping like hell that I hit the fucker, before he got a shot off at my boss.
Yelling, a crash of bodies, and sudden searing pain punching my side, all happened at once, and as my head hit concrete with a dull thud, the light disappeared as I lost consciousness.
Jamie
Ihad no idea what had set Grease off like that, but I couldn’t let him run into danger alone. I hurried along behind him, wishing I had a weapon, and was stunned into an appreciative stupor at the way he aimed, fired, and hit that window that had opened suddenly, all while running!
I caught sight of that old bastard he’d been working for, and hiding from, and did the first thing that came to mind. I threw myself at him, and the woman with him, even though there were other guns in the air, and taking a heavy hit myself, moments later, when a heavy body crashed into mine.
It was Grease, and he wasn’t moving.
“GOD NO! Grease!” The chaos around us faded into nothing but white noise, as I cradled his head in my lap, pressing my hands against his side, where blood was blooming at an alarming rate.
“Help us!”
A woman crouched beside me, pressing her fingers against Grease’s throat, and yelling to someone, but words had lost all meaning, as I watched the man I loved, bleeding silently in my lap.
“Help him, please!” I gasped at the strange woman, as she waved someone over.
The older guy, who dropped down beside him, checked his pulse too, and yelled something to someone behind me.
“Got it, Jeffrey, get him out of here.”
It was one of those London guys speaking, I think, but I moved with Grease, as several people lifted him, and ran with him to a small, unmarked van-like vehicle, which was revealed as an ambulance once the doors opened. Who the hell were these people?
“Let the Bennetts know I’m taking him to the hospital, not the clinic. I don’t like how much he’s bleeding. We’ll need access to their blood stock.”
The doors slammed behind us, and the vehicle roared into motion, and I kept my focus on my man laying on the gurney, who was being adeptly administered to, by the strange man they called Jeffrey.
“Can you let me get at that wound, love? I just need to see what’s what,” his gruff voice finally permeated my senses, and I backed up, scooting along the bench seat, to sit closer to Grease’s head. I stroked his hair away from his face, leaning down to kiss his forehead.
“Please be okay, Grease. I need to kick your ass for getting shot, you idiot.”
The doctor chuckled, as he worked on saving my man, his hands moving fast and sure, as he folded his leather cut open and tucked it under his back, then sliced the rest of his clothing away, cleaning up the area to check on the wound.
“I’d like to see that,” he said with a grin, “and don’t panic, love. This isn’t my first gunshot wound. I’m practically a pro these days.” Practically? Oh my god, he wasn’t even a real doctor!
“Who the hell are you?”
Another grin, as he packed the wound, and sealed a dressing over it. Next, he leaned over to check the wound on the side of his head, gently pressing his fingers around the bruising that had already started to form.
“Jeffrey Turnbull, love. Doctor Turnbull. Don’t worry. He’s going to be fine. His name’s really Grease?”
He looked bemused as I nodded, pointing to the Phoenix MC patch on the left side of his cut.
Oh his cut. Did the bullet ruin it? Would the blood have damaged it?
He’d be gutted. He loved his cut so much.
That wasn’t necessarily the right thing to focus on right now, but I was floundering, because of the panic filling my soul right now.
Oh, the doctor guy asked me something, didn’t he?
“Uh it’s a biker thing. They all have weird names like that.”
He nodded, sitting back and checking his watch.
“I had a feeling something would go wrong today. The fucking Bennetts never think shit through, loaning the club out for all sorts. Bikers, though, that’s a new one on me.”
I dragged my sleeve over my fist and tried rubbing at the blood coating the inside fabric of Grease’s cut, but it was firmly stained.
It was hitting me just how useless I’d been today.
I sat and watched. I asked dumb questions, and then I watched as my man threw himself in front of bullets, to save the bastard who probably got out unscathed.
The bastard who’d probably still kill him.
A sob gasped out, and I pressed my bloody fist against my mouth, trying to silence it.
“Hey, love, he’s going to be fine. I know this was a scary mess, but he’s fine. There’s no bullet in there, and I’ve contained the bleeding.”
Tears poured down my cheeks, and my throat throbbed with raw emotion, as Grease stayed silent, the one thing I’d demanded of him enough times, only now it was happening, it was terrifying.
All I wanted to hear, now that he was quiet, was his voice.
No matter how offensive the words that came out of his mouth would be, I just wanted to hear him.
“Okay, we’re approaching the hospital. Let me do the talking, because gunshot wounds can bring the cops, and even though we have plenty of friendlies involved, I don’t want the wrong ones going to the club.”
He clearly didn’t know what I did for a living, and I almost didn’t say anything, because he clearly wasn’t necessarily on the right side of the law, but I realised it might actually be useful in this situation.
“Actually I’m a police officer myself, so maybe I can help with that?”
His face fell, and he rubbed his hand over his forehead.
“Ah. I see. And do the Bennetts know that?”
“Who the fuck are the Bennetts?” He chuckled, as the ambulance slowed down, and he prepared to hop out, and take my man with him.
“Let’s keep it that way, love. Stay clueless, for your sake.”
What the hell? I scrambled out of the vehicle, and followed Jeffrey as he briefed the emergency staff, spouting terms I didn’t really understand, and rattling off stats I didn’t even realise he’d been monitoring.