Chapter 22 #3
There were no seats in here, just the empty floor, so I knelt next to Slash better for balance and hoped Skeeter didn’t take any corners too sharply.
“Killer,” Slash murmured, his face pale and making more tears fall from my eyes. He was slipping fast, I could sense it.
“Rest,” I ordered, his hand coming to my cheek to wipe my tears.
“I can rest when I’m dead.”
“That’s not fucking funny, asshole.”
He chuckled, a wet choking sound leaving him as blood trickled from his lips.
“You look after my boys. I don’t give a shit if they don’t like it. You help Skeet keep them in line, understand?”
“Don’t talk like that. You’re going to be fine,” I said firmly, his thumb brushing back and forth against my cheek, drawing my attention to his eyes.
“Baby, you listen to me,” he said quietly, and I sensed Skeeter’s eyes on us in the rearview. “I can’t die without telling you how much I love you. You’re the best pain in the ass I’ve ever had.”
“Slash, don’t—”
“I love you,” he repeated, a sob leaving me.
“You can tell me later. Stop it.”
“You tell Skeet I’m sorry,” he chuckled, coughing up blood and dropping his hand to mine on his chest.
His eyes became more unfocused, and I glanced at Diesel to find concern on his face.
He knew it too. Slash wasn’t going to make it.
As if sensing it, Skeeter put his foot down harder, our eyes meeting in the rearview.
He looked confused, hurt, and fucking terrified.
“Slash, stay with me,” Diesel ordered, bringing my attention back to Slash’s face to find his eyes closed.
“Slash?” I said firmly, feeling his fingers tighten a little on my hand. “We’re almost there. You’re okay.”
I braced as Skeeter took the corner onto the main road without slowing down, the tires screeching as he floored it towards the hospital.
“Hang on, brother,” Skeeter said sharply, slamming the car to a stop out the front of the hospital and bailing out to run inside for help.
The van was soon surrounded by nurses as they helped put Slash’s lifeless body onto a stretcher to wheel him away, his still hand slipping from mine.
We followed them inside to the emergency room, watching them disappear through the internal doors for surgery, and I didn’t realize how badly I was shaking until Skeeter helped me put his jacket on, pulling me against his chest.
“He’s going to be okay,” he said firmly as if to make himself believe it, and Diesel stood on my other side, keeping an eye out so I could break down in peace.
Heavy sobs wracked my body, Skeeter’s arms tightening around me as he slid a hand into the back of my hair to keep my face buried in his shirt.
Time stood still in that moment, the world around me seeming to halt. My ears rang, and it was hard to breathe, the only sound being my own heartbeat and Skeeter’s against my ear.
People were talking when I snapped back to the present, finding some of the other Psychos milling around waiting to hear about Slash.
Half an hour passed before footsteps hurried towards us and Caden was suddenly there, his hand going to my face to inspect me.
“You’re okay?”
I couldn’t make my mouth work, so I just nodded.
“Diesel messaged and said you needed us. Who’s hurt? Is any of that your blood?” he asked carefully, noticing the dried blood all over my hands.
My gaze flicked to Tyler, tears starting to burn all over again, and he shook his head.
“No.”
“Ty,” I choked out, grateful when Jensen moved into view to slide an arm around him as his legs gave out.
“How bad?” Caden murmured, his eyes closing on an exhale when I answered.
“He died in the van when we got here. They’ve been in there a while, so maybe they brought him back,” I said hopefully, but that hope vanished as a doctor wandered towards us and Skeeter eased me into Caden’s hold, Lukas moving to his vacated place on my other side.
The doctor’s face said it all.
The leader of the Bloody Psychos was dead.
I didn’t hear the words that left his mouth, all I could hear was the soft curse that left Caden, Tyler’s grief as Jensen helped him to the floor, and the sound of Skeeter’s fist hitting a wall close by.
“Get her home.” Skeeter’s voice sounded distant, and I blinked at him to find him walking away.
“Wait, Skeet—” I started, but he turned to glare at me. His grief and anger was understandable, but I couldn’t tell if any of it was aimed at me or not.
“Don’t.” It was firm and final, hitting me straight in the chest as he walked towards the door, and Diesel put a hand on my shoulder as the other Psychos started to follow.
“I’ve got him. You stay with your guys.”
“He needs me,” I forced out, and he shook his head.
“He needs to handle cops, dead bodies, and grief. Trust me, you can’t be there when all of that happens.”
“But—”
“Donovan, please. The cops will come knocking at some point for questions. Tell them you arrived to find Slash bleeding and helped. Don’t detail anything else, okay?
I’ll let you know what happens. I’ve got Skeet, promise.
He’s just been pushed into leadership, so he’ll be busy tonight.
I’ll step up and help him. Go home so we don’t have to worry about you,” he practically begged, and I turned to hug him, thankful when he let me.
“You did good tonight,” he murmured as he hugged me back, giving Caden a nod on his way out, the room suddenly feeling empty without the presence of the Psychos.
My body felt too heavy, but I managed to move to sit beside Tyler. He instantly pulled me onto his lap and clung to me like I could fix it all if he held me tight enough.
I couldn’t, even though I’d tried.
People were glancing at me, taking in my blood-covered hands and Skeeter’s jacket covering my frame, and they all knew what was coming next.
War.
To be continued in Reckless Vengeance…