Wrecked and Ruined (Fallen Angels MC #5)

Chapter One

There was nothing quite like the wind in your face, and your hair blowing in the wind to help you realize what’s important in the world.

It was something that had taken Spider a few years to learn but now blacktop therapy was the only kind he supported.

He left psychiatrists and councilors to those who it would help and found balance his own way.

He insisted on getting at least an hour a week to himself.

It was his time to think, to figure out what was going on in the world, to sift the bullshit of modern society from what was really important.

Whatever. If the wait got too long to suit him, it was no big deal to turn his bike around and head back to Craven’s Creek.

That was part of the beauty of his blacktop therapy.

It didn’t matter where he was, as long as he could ride.

He pulled up behind the last vehicle in line, braced his feet on the ground, and killed the engine.

No point in wasting the gas to idle while they waited.

Part of the point of his blacktop therapy rides was to disconnect with electronics—well, mostly.

He had some music playing in earbuds, but he avoided surfing or screwing around on his phone on these trips, especially while he ate, because he wasn’t stupid enough to try to use his phone while he was riding.

So now, even though he wasn’t actively riding, he didn’t pull out his phone.

Instead he looked around him, taking in the trees and hills, watched the road crew move around, wondering how long they’d be there and if he should just turn around and call it a day.

That’s when cars started coming from the other direction, passing them.

It meant he would have a harder time turning, but it also meant that they would probably be moving soon.

He could get onboard with that. He sat a little straighter and turned his attention to the front of the line.

From where Spider sat he could see the long-handled stop sign where it had been shoved into the top of a traffic cone so no one had to stand there holding it, but it could easily be turned when it was time.

As he watched, a woman moved from the shade a few feet away, a portable radio in one hand as she approached the sign and spun it so the “slow” was facing them.

Spider started his bike and prepared to get moving.

They’d just started moving when he felt his bike jerk.

His whole body exploded with pain, then the world went dark.

****

Something isn’t right were the first words Spider thought.

Something was beeping. There was nothing in his room that should be beeping.

Had he gotten shitfaced and gone home with some woman?

Was it something at her place beeping? He struggled to open his eyes, but they felt gummy and refused to open.

Why was he so weak? His throat hurt and it felt like there was something stuck in it, but he couldn’t figure out what or why

The world faded away.

****

Spider blinked his eyes open, despite their weighing about ten pounds each, and looked for whatever was beeping.

At first nothing made sense. Why were there white ceiling tiles over his bed?

He tried to run a hand over his face, but his right arm wouldn’t move, or at least it wouldn’t move much.

He tried to look at it, but his head felt even heavier than his eyelids.

“You’re awake. Don’t move, they’ve got you strapped down because you were fighting all the tubes and wires,” a voice said, one he knew but for some reason, he couldn’t place.

“Let me call the nurse and see what they can do.” He felt the weight of someone touching his leg, then it was gone.

Soft fingers enfolded his right hand. Taylynn’s face appeared as she leaned over him.

“You were in an accident, Spider. You’ll be okay. Hold on for a few minutes and we’ll get someone in here to see you,” she said.

“Okay,” he tried to say, but it came out little more than a croak.

“Your throat is probably dry. I need to wait until someone says I can give you something to drink. We’re here with you.” She squeezed his hand. He didn’t know what to do, but squeezed her hand back, or at least tried to, he didn’t know if he managed it.

If Taylynn was there, Raven was too. That was the voice he’d heard. Raven. His President. If Raven was there, he would make sure everything was taken care of. Spider could relax and let him handle everything.

He could focus on getting over whatever had happened to him. As he lay there, holding on to the hand in his and watching Taylynn, he tried to remember what had happened. How had he gotten here?

The last thing he remembered was leaving the clubhouse to head to West Yellowstone.

That couldn’t be right. What had happened that he couldn’t remember?

The beeping got faster—he didn’t know where it was coming from but he knew that wasn’t good.

He focused on breathing in and out, noticing that his chest felt tight, like those lead covers they put on you for x-rays at the dentist. Why would they put something on his chest?

“It’s okay, Spider,” the weight came back to his right leg as Raven spoke again.

“We’ve got a nurse on her way. We’ll get you taken care of.

” His voice was soft and even, his words slow and gentle.

Spider recognized the way his president was talking as his way of keeping a tense situation under control.

Spider had seen Raven talk more than one man down from whatever ledge he was on, physical or metaphorical, with that voice.

If he was using it now, then whatever happened was serious.

He didn’t think Spider would handle whatever it was well.

He held on to the hand in his tighter. He needed to move. He needed to know how bad things were that he was here, and Freud wasn’t taking care of him at the clubhouse. He needed to know what had happened.

“Good morning, Mr. Crawford. I’m glad to see you awake,” a woman’s voice he didn’t recognize said. He tried to turn his head but found he couldn’t “I’m Kristina. I’ll be your nurse this shift.”

“What happened?” he tried to whisper, knowing that speaking didn’t work, but hoping this would.

“I’m sure your throat is dry. You can have water, but start with tiny sips. We don’t want to hit your stomach with a lot of weight just yet and a lot of water will do that.” The disembodied voice said, her tone kind.

Taylynn’s hand pulled from his as she twisted around, then he felt something against his lips. He opened his mouth, then took a small sip of the water. It tasted odd, metallic, but he was glad to get it.

“What happened?” he said, trying again.

“You were in an accident,” Raven spoke from out of his line of sight. “From what I’ve been told you were rearended. It pushed you into the car in front of you.”

Spider blinked.

“Why can’t I move my head?”

“They’ve got you in a big foam collar,” Taylynn said. She’d set the cup aside and had come back. She put her hand back in his and smoothed his hair back from his forehead with the other. He watched her more closely, noticing for the first time fine lines and dark shadows around her eyes.

“How long?” Spider’s voice was barely more than a croak again. He closed his eyes and swallowed a couple of times.

“What do you mean, brother?”

“How long have I been here?”

They didn’t answer right away. Taylynn looked away as if she was checking with someone else before she told him.

“Five days.”

“Five days?”

She pressed her lips together and nodded.

How had he lost nearly a week? Obviously, he was hurt or he wouldn’t be in the hospital.

Or maybe he was here because he’d been unconscious.

No. He hurt. He was hurt, but how bad? Five days?

It was hard to think, as if the gears he’d always imagined in his brain hadn’t had their oil changed in all of his thirty years, or longer.

He knew that wasn’t how brains worked, but it was the mental image he had formed to help him cope.

What the hell had happened to cost him five days?

“Can I get these off?” He tried to lift his arm as a woman’s face he didn’t recognize came into view. Her scrub top was light blue with little cats all over it. He assumed she was the Kristina that had introduced herself a moment ago.

“Now that you’re awake enough to know not to pull at the wires and tubes, we can take them off ... unless you start fighting things again.” He heard the rip of Velcro being pulled apart, then a second.

“You can move your arms now.” Taylynn’s voice was soft, drawing his attention to her.

Spider brought both hands up to scrub over his face, then lowered them again.

“Water?” he looked at Taylynn. He hated being helpless.

His president’s old lady brought the cup back and placed the straw against his lips. He took a small sip.

“Thank you,” he said as she turned to set it down.

He felt like shit, but he remembered what she’d been like when they’d found her and knew she understood how shitty he felt.

Taylynn just smiled and put her hand back in his.

Spider looked back to the other side where he could still see Kristina.

“What are the chances of sitting up, at least a little?” He hated being flat on his back.

He didn’t even sleep this way at home and suspected that might have been part of why he’d fought the wires.

“We can tilt you up but do it slowly. You’re on some strong meds because you’ve got some serious injuries and we don’t want to make them worse.”

“What about this thing?” he reached the hand Taylynn wasn’t holding up to touch the foam collar around his neck.

“I’ll have to talk to the doctor about that. I sent him a message that you’re awake. He should be in to see you before too long.” She checked a couple of things, hit buttons on the machines around him.

“The beeping, can we silence that?”