Chapter Thirteen
Lavender
I stared out the window of Brynn’s hospital room.
My stomach twisted with a familiar anxiety.
After all the fighting, all the tears, Knight would finally give our daughter his kidney and, hopefully, we could all get on the road to recovery.
I pressed my forehead against the cool glass, letting it ground me as I tried to steady my breathing.
The distant rumble came first, a low thunder that vibrated through the glass against my skin.
I squinted against the morning glare, making out a convoy of motorcycles turning into the hospital entrance, chrome flashing in the sunlight.
Behind them rolled a line of trucks and SUVs, moving in perfect formation like some kind of leather-clad military unit.
“What the hell?” I whispered, counting at least twenty bikes before I gave up.
The riders parked with orderly precision, backing their motorcycles into spaces.
I recognized the Kiss of Death MC logo emblazoned on their leather cuts, how it caught the sun as they dismounted and gathered at the backs of the trucks.
They began unloading boxes, coolers, and what looked like… flower arrangements?
I hurried to Brynn’s bedside, where she still slept, exhausted from the pain medications they’d given her last night. Knight had been moved to his own pre-op room an hour earlier. I brushed a strand of blue hair from her forehead before heading into the hallway.
The elevator dinged down the corridor just as I stepped out. The doors slid open, revealing Knuckles. Behind him stood four other club members, their arms loaded with boxes of donuts, coffee urns, and stuffed animals. The antiseptic hospital air suddenly carried the rich scent of coffee.
“Morning, Lavender.” Knuckles sounded surprisingly soft in the quiet hallway. “Thought you might need some reinforcements today.”
A nurse at the station looked up, her eyes widening at the sight of five heavily tattooed bikers stepping off the elevator. She reached for the phone, probably to call security, when Knuckles approached her with a smile that transformed his hard face.
“Ma’am,” he said, placing a box of donuts on the counter. “These are for you and the rest of the staff. We’re here for Brynn Leahy and her parents.”
The nurse’s hand froze over the phone. She eyed the donuts, then the men, confusion evident in the furrow between her brows.
“We got more coming up,” Knuckles continued. “Coffee, food for the waiting room. Our family’s having surgery today.”
Something in those last words made my throat tighten unexpectedly. The elevator dinged again, and this time Ada, Hannah, Carrie, Penny, Ellie, Darby, and Nadine emerged, carrying pillows and blankets, followed by more club members in another elevator with flowers and gift bags.
“What is all this?” I asked as Ada reached me, her arms full of soft, fleece blankets that smelled like fresh laundry.
“Support,” she said simply, kissing my cheek. “Nobody goes through anything like this alone. Not in this family.”
Two security guards appeared at the end of the hall, moving with purpose toward our growing group.
I stepped forward, ready to explain, when Jag intercepted them.
I couldn’t hear what he said, but his calm, measured voice sounded respectful and seemed to pacify the men.
After a moment, one guard nodded and spoke into his radio while the other helped Jag carry a large coffee urn toward the nurses’ station.
More club members continued to arrive, filing in with quiet determination.
Despite their intimidating appearances they moved with surprising quiet gentleness through the pediatric floor.
One enormous man with a gray beard and scars across his knuckles carefully arranged stuffed animals, still in plastic to be sanitary, on the counter, asking a nurse if there were children who could use a friend.
“They’re setting up downstairs in the waiting room, too,” Hannah explained, guiding me toward the family waiting area.
“Rotating shifts so someone’s always here for you and keeping things contained to the lobby so they don’t get kicked out.
” Sure enough, Knuckles stood in the center of the waiting room, directing traffic like a general while they set up a table along one wall with snacks, coffee, soda, and water.
A nurse in blue scrubs approached me, tablet in hand. “Ms. Calloway? I need to go over a few things before they take Brynn to pre-op.” Her eyes darted around at the activity, a bemused smile playing at her lips. “Quite the support system you’ve got here.”
“They’re…” I paused, not entirely sure how to explain. “Family. Knight’s family.”
She nodded with a smile. “Well, they’ve already charmed half the staff with those donuts, and the coffee really smells good. And frankly, after what Dr. Phillips tried to pull, you deserve all the support you can get.”
I blinked at her. “You know about that?”
The nurse shrugged. “Everyone knows. He thinks he’s got us all fooled, but we were actually surprised he let it go on this long before he pulled rank.
He must have been holding out until the very last test. Pretty sure he never thought they’d find a match for Brynn after they discovered the blood antibody.
If Knight wasn’t a match, Dr. Phillips wouldn’t have to pull out his trump card. ”
I followed her gaze to where a young nurse was laughing at something one of the bikers had said while he arranged flowers in a vase. Another club member was helping an elderly visitor to the refreshment table, his tattooed arm gently supporting her elbow.
“They look tough,” I admitted, “but they’ve been nothing but good to me and Brynn.”
“Sometimes the toughest-looking ones are the ones you want in your corner.” She smiled before guiding me to a quieter area to review Brynn’s pre-op details.
When I returned to the waiting room, Ada had transformed a corner into what looked like a makeshift living space.
Pillows lined a small sofa, blankets folded neatly beside it.
A small table held fresh coffee, sandwiches wrapped in plastic, a big crock pot of what smelled like chili, and a phone charger plugged into the wall.
“Your command center, Lavender,” Ada said with a small smile. “You need to keep your strength up.”
Hannah appeared at my side, pressing a warm cup into my hands. “It’s that tea you like. The one with vanilla.”
Tears stung my eyes before I could stop them. “How did you know?”
“Knight told me. Said you drink it when you’re stressed.” She squeezed my arm gently. “He notices things like that.”
I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.
The waiting room had transformed in less than an hour.
What had been an uncomfortable space was now filled with quiet conversation, the scent of fresh coffee, and the steady presence of people who had no obligation to be here but showed up anyway.
Knuckles approached, looking strangely formal despite his cut and tattoos. “We’ve got three shifts of brothers rotating through. Someone will always be here, day or night, as long as either of them are in this hospital.”
“Thank you,” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t need to say anything, Lavender.” He patted my shoulder awkwardly, looking a little uncomfortable with my struggling emotions. “This is what family does.”
A young doctor emerged from the elevator, stopping short at the sight of the transformed waiting room. His startled expression shifted to cautious approval as a club member offered him coffee.
“Looks like you’ve set up camp,” he observed, accepting the cup with a nod of thanks.
“Just supporting our people, Doc,” the biker replied easily. “And anyone else who needs it.”
The doctor glanced around, then back to me. “Ms. Calloway? They’re ready to take Brynn down to pre-op.”
My heart jumped into my throat. This was it. I clutched my tea tighter, the warmth barely registering through the sudden numbness in my fingers.
I nodded as I stood. As I moved toward Brynn’s room, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Ada stood behind me, her expression firm but gentle.
“You’re not alone,” she said quietly. “Not for any of it.”
Looking around at the room full of people who had shown up for us I realized she was right. After years of handling everything on my own, of being Brynn’s only advocate and support, I now stood surrounded by a family I’d never expected to have.
I straightened my shoulders and headed to get my daughter, drawing strength from the knowledge that an army in leather waited to help us through whatever came next.
* * *
The pre-op area consisted of several “bays” separated by curtains.
Knight lay on the narrow gurney, an IV already feeding clear fluid into his arm, while nurses moved around him.
The thin hospital blanket did little to diminish his imposing presence.
I sat in a chair beside him, my fingers intertwined with his, both of us silent as the monitors beeped a steady rhythm that matched his heartbeat.
A nurse with steel-gray hair checked his vitals, making notes on a tablet. “Everything looks good. The doctor will be in soon. You and your daughter are first on the list this morning.”
Knight nodded, his face unreadable to anyone who didn’t know him as I did. But I saw the tension in his jaw, the slight narrowing of his eyes. Not fear for himself, but concern for Brynn and me. He squeezed my hand, his palm warm against mine despite the chill of the room.
“How’s our girl?” he asked, voice rougher than usual.
“Sleeping,” I said, forcing steadiness into my words. “Ada’s with her. She’s doing OK. Was nervous earlier but putting on a brave face.”
Knight’s lips quirked. “Stubborn. Like her mother.”
“And her father,” I countered softly.