Ruthless Son: Street Kings of Maynard County

1. Mia

“What do you mean I can’t see her?” I slapped my hand against the countertop that the nurse sat behind. “I have flown all this way, I haven’t even stopped at a hotel, and you’re telling me I can’t see my own sister.”

The scent of antiseptic stung my nostrils as the cleaner swept past, narrowly avoiding my suitcase that sat at my feet, the luggage tag still attached. It was almost the end of visiting hours, I knew that, and the clock on the wall behind the smirking woman warned me that there was only 10 minutes until they kicked every visitor out.

That included the wall of muscle that had taken over every spare seat in the hospital waiting room. The line of men clad in black leather vests, riding boots and scowls watched the double doors where doctors and nurses were going in and out—the doors that read ‘hospital personnel only’ in bold red lettering—they ignored everyone while I saw every passerby scurry out of their way with nervous glances.

I knew well what happened behind closed doors in a hospital’s AE department—pain, sadness… death.

They sat eerily still, no fidgeting, no tapping—they just sat there. Waiting.

I tapped my fingers against the counter, glaring back at the nurse who openly eye-balled the men, staring with lust-filled eyes and paying me no attention; cutting her eyes at my impatient tapping briefly before returning to ogle the eye candy.

“Please,” I gritted through clenched teeth, trying to appeal to her better nature. Of course, she must have one, what other reason would she become a nurse for? I also knew from personal experience that it was the nurses, not the doctors, who ran the wards and maintained order in such a chaotic environment. I had to play nicely with the woman who may allow me to see my little sister before visiting hours finished. “I would just like to see if she’s ok, let her know that I’m here.”

“Well, I would darlin’, but hospital policy ya see, times up.”

“There’s still 6 minutes left,” I demanded, flicking my eyes to the digital display behind her head.

“Oopsie, that clock’s a bit wrong.” She giggled.

My eye twitched with the tell-tale sign that I was about to lose my temper. A flicker across my vision that always foretold the unfortunate spewing of words. But like I’d learned to do, I bit my tongue to hold in all of the curses that I wanted to spit at her for making light of my situation.

My short blunt nails—kept neat and tidy for my own nursing role back home—dug into the palms of my hands as I rested my clenched fists on the counter. “I have been sitting on a plane for nine hours with an old snoring man beside me and a screaming toddler behind me, as it was the only seat available last minute so that I could get over here as soon as I heard about my sister’s accident, so please,” I stressed, “could I just see her for five minutes and make sure that she is ok?” My phone vibrated in my back pocket for the hundredth time, my dad ringing again to check that I was here and had seen for myself if his youngest daughter was still alive.

His pure distrust of doctors ensured he was in a full blown meltdown worrying about Millie’s welfare.

She was his favorite, his youngest baby with his second wife, my step-mom, and the only thing stopping him from being here was his refusal to leave his sick wife in the care of those same distrustful doctors. I was the only one he trusted, and that was just because I was family. Those familial ties were tighter than his wife’s purse strings. Dad had seen to it that the fact we had different moms didn’t cause a strain on our sibling relationship. She was my only sibling after all, my mom never having any other children after her and Dad divorced.

The vibrating finally stopped before restarting immediately after, and I sighed internally at the lack of help from someone who was supposed to be here to help people—even if I wasn’t the one who was hurt.

Those were the nurses who never lasted long in the profession, their empathy levels almost non-existent, and they were quick to burn out, leaving the rest of us to manage their workloads.

She typed away on a computer, ignoring my plea before her eyes narrowed on the screen before shooting toward me. “Does your sister have health insurance? I don’t have any details down for her.”

I dug around in my purse for my passport and travel documents. “We aren’t American citizens, so she has travel insurance that will cover any expenses, not health care.” I placed the documentation down, spreading the paperwork out so she can clearly see the sheet titled ‘travel insurance’.

“I’m afraid I can’t use this, we’ll need a credit card to store on file and charge.” Ripping a sheet from the printer, she slammed it on top of my own paperwork.

“What’s this?”

Her lips tightened as I picked up the sheet of paper. “It’s an itemized bill for your sister’s stay here.”

Running my gaze across the typed words, my brain spiraled at the sheer amount spent for one day in a hospital for a car accident that wasn’t even her fault. She’d been T-boned by a drunk driver, and we were being penalized by sticking me with a bill that was totaling thousands already.

Ambulance ride to the hospital - $900

Surgery for a broken collarbone - $6,000

Blood transfusion - $357

“Are you fucking kidding me? $5,000 for a CT scan?” The vein throbbed at my temple, a pulsing, pounding beat on the inside of my skull as the numbers kept growing. We didn’t have this at home. We had the NHS, a free health service, neither did we decline tourists’ travel insurance. We treated everyone, regardless of wealth or nationality. It was one of the things I loved most about England. And even when someone had to pay for services, the cost was nothing like this… merely a fraction!

The red numbers on the digital clock kept going up. Looks like I wouldn’t get to see Millie tonight, Nurse Ratched was doing her damnedest to make sure my life was as hard as possible. Her hands brushed stray hairs back, patting her incredibly neat bun that must have been sprayed into submission with an entire can of hairspray; the dull brown locks pulled tightly so that the corners of her eyes lifted up just slightly, accentuated with a thick black cat eye lined around the top lid. Her subtle pink lips glistened with each pass of her tongue across the cracked skin, which coincided with each time she looked at the bikers behind me. Men who had been silently watching our interlude while they waited for news of their own hospitalized visitor.

“Oh, time”s up. Time for you to go.” Her lips spread into a false smile, with no hint of sympathy anywhere on her plain visage. “You can come back tomorrow from 10 a.m., and you can take these forms to fill out too.” She pushed a pile of papers toward me before turning back to her screen, completely dismissing me.

Picking up the sheath of insurance forms that seemed ridiculously excessive, I shoved them unceremoniously into my handbag, determined to have them all filled out tonight when I got back to the hotel and updated dad with what little bit of information I’d managed to glean from the hospital bill.

The crowd of men took up every available seat, and some even sat on the floor, thick veiny forearms resting on denim and leather, their stoic masks alternating between watching my interaction with the nurse and the doors of death.

But none of them made a move to leave, they sat there like stone statues without a care for the end of visiting hours. “Why aren’t you telling them to leave too?” All heads turned toward me, their eyes pinning me against the desk as the nurse’s eyes flickered with a hint of fear. I was used to seeing that emotion in AE, it was a prominent feeling that was easily recognizable if you were used to seeing it all the time.

But I was too lost in my own self-righteousness to recognize the animosity that drifted off some of them in waves. Why were they allowed to stay but I was being told to leave? Why was I unable to see my own sister when all of these people couldn’t be immediate family of whoever they were waiting for, especially considering none of them looked even remotely similar to each other; though they were all clearly together with their matching vests and… were they brands?

Finishing my perusal, I turned back to the woman, her face pale and devoid of all emotion. “Who’s your matron or head nurse? Whatever you call them over here, can you get her?” And though framed as a question, I definitely wasn’t asking.

Her eyes flickered to the crowd behind me and back again, not reaching for the phone that sat next to her. “You’re not from around here, are ya,” she muttered, fingers tapping against the desk in a rapid movement with no rhythm.

Hair on the back of my neck stood on end, a puff of air that breathed gently against my ear. The feeling of someone behind me was only confirmed when Nurse Ratched’s eyes widened and fixed firmly on something over my shoulder.

I hadn”t heard anyone get up. Brushing my long ponytail over my shoulder, I looked behind me and came face to chest with what could only be described as a barricade between me and the rest of the room. The black cotton that covered the wide chest of the man before me seemed to stretch for miles, and the leather vest that rested across his broad shoulders told tales of his life. I wasn’t stupid, I’d watched Sons of Anarchy; I was among the masses of women who cried when Opi died and had images of Jax Teller stored in my Rub Club.

Shockingly enough, I had to raise my head to look him in the eye, which was unusual for me when most men were the same height as me. It was hard getting a date and being able to wear heels which took my normal 5’10 to over 6’0; this generally had men not wanting a second date—this guy had to be at least 6’3 for me to have to crane my neck.

His sexy smirk was waiting for me when I finally reached his face, a tip of his lips on one side that had his deep-brown eyes glittering down at me.

“Finished looking, darlin’?”

His drawl was deep and honeyed, an accent that sounded nothing like the scratchy sounds of the nurse behind me.

“Do you work here?” I kept my face neutral, determined not to show him that I was slightly uncomfortable with his looming presence. Especially because his hefty size had snuck up behind me without even a rustle of fabric.

Squaring my shoulders, I looked him directly in the eyes, his smile stretching wider and his straight white teeth on display. “Do I look like I work here, sugar?”

Sugar?

“I don’t want any trouble, I just?—”

“You have the sexiest accent, where ya from?”

“Back the fuck up, Sly. The lady don’t need ya sniffing around. She’s in the hospital for a reason, you dumb son-of-a-bitch.” The new voice was deeper, rougher than the intruder into my personal space. And if I thought this twinkle-eyed playboy was tall, new guy was taller by at least an inch, and wider in build. He must have to turn sideways to get his shoulders through doorways. A gym rat if I’ve ever seen one!

Black lines crept from the neck of his grey T-shirt toward his jawline, covering most of the skin in a swirl of patterns that didn’t seem to have any direction, and matched the geometric design that covered both his arms, except for a bare patch of skin around his left bicep. The skin there looked raised, eerily similar to the other guys, dark pink scar tissue that circled the muscle of his left bicep.

Sly—that’s what new guy called him—slunk off to join his friends, perching on the plastic arm of a chair to laughter and back slaps. He didn’t seem too cut up about being told to fuck off.

“What’s your problem, princess?”

Princess? These guys loved a nickname. First I was sugar, now I’m princess! “I just wanted some information on my sister?—”

“And you thought you’d march in here giving orders.” He sneered down at me, ignoring my tight fisted grip now on the handle of my suitcase, ready to wheel it the hell out of here and get away from the gang of men watching me with eagle eyes. But his words cut into me. I’d come here for only one thing, and I was being berated for trying to find out what was happening to my sister only for every door to slam closed in my face.

My shoulders slumped and my eyes closed in defeat, shutting out the vision of the cold faces staring at me. Not one person was willing to help, despite me practically begging. Tears pricked behind my closed lids, my breath stuttering as I drew air into my lungs to try and calm myself down. How could people be so unkind? “I-I just wanted to see my sister… I’ve been traveling all day…” My throat clogged at the pain in my voice. I never got this upset, but clearly the stress and the lack of sleep was getting to me because as I spewed my tale of woe—from getting the call about Millie, rushing to get here and having no help from anyone at this damned hospital. A single tear coursed down my cheek, its trail silent yet attracting attention from everyone in the waiting room.

Shuffles of men jumping to their feet and stomping over to hustle around me drowned out my sniffles.

“Hey, man, you’re upsetting the lady, back up Rex.”

“I didn’t fucking do anything, bro,” the sneering man replied. “She just started crying.”

“I didn’t make her cry, jeez, you shoulda let me just handle the lady.” The first guy—the one who had called me sugar—elbowed his way past to stand in front of me. “I’m sorry about my brother, sugar. He”s a prick.” His elbow cocked toward me, an invitation to slide my hand into the crook of it. “Come and sit with us, tell us everything, darlin’, we’ll sort out whatever you need.” His voice was cajoling, softness that belied the size of him.

Various shades of eyes watched me with curiosity and a touch of worry, I stared at his thick arm holding firm toward me, waiting patiently for me to walk toward him.

“Don’t worry, princess, we don’t bite,” Rex muttered, his bright blue eyes zoning in on my tear-stained cheeks, “and stop crying, you’re making us uncomfortable.”

A spark of anger lit a fire inside me. “Oh, I’m so sorry my tears make you uncomfortable,” I spat. “Like all of you giant-arsed men crowding me doesn’t make me uncomfortable either—but who cares about my feelings, right!”

Rex shuffled back, silently backing out of my personal space, slowly followed by the others, giving me and my womanly discomfort-causing tears a wide berth. Glances at the leather-clad men showed sheepish grins and pink-stained cheeks. “Happy now?”

I nodded in gratitude, rubbing my wet cheeks on the sleeve of my jacket, clearing away the evidence of my weakness. Sniffing, I wheeled my case toward the man they had called Sly earlier. The squeaking of the wheels loud in the now silent room until the unhelpful nurse piped up, “Uh, Rex.” She cleared her throat when he spun toward her, piercing her with his gaze and causing a flush of red to run under the neck of her nurses scrubs. “It’s uh, I mean times up, babe, she has to leave… hospital policy.” She tagged on the end as Rex narrowed his eyes on her.

“She’s with us, we’ll escort her out when we’re finished.”

Nurse Ratched was now as meek as a mouse, merely nodding at Rex’s claim and sitting back down to make herself look busy with paperwork, though she kept watch on us from the corner of her eye, a sharp censorious look that left nothing to the imagination… she was angry at their attentiveness.

The hard red plastic dug into my back, with Sly and another man sitting either side of me. Rex took center stage, kneeling before me and digging a tissue from his inside pocket—unused hopefully—and even with one knee on the hard floor, we were now evenly matched in height, yet he seemed to take over the entire room.

Rex pointed to the unnamed man beside me, one arm resting on his raised knee. “That’s Gauge.” The man in question lifted a hand, a little salute to go along with his small smile had the tension that was riding my shoulders—a tension I didn’t know I was holding onto—lifting. My body deflated and sunk lower into the hard plastic, a pent up gust of breath releasing from my burning lungs.

The other men dotted around us, leaning against walls and trying to fit large frames into tight chairs, their hips barely fitting between the arm rests.

“What’s got such a pretty thing like you all caught up?” Sly leaned forward, a shock of white hair amidst the black mass falling over his forehead. His scarred hand raked the hair back in place, the white mark looking like it had been painted on in a neat strip.

“Poliosis,” I muttered to myself, watching the contrasting colors of this strange man’s hair was almost hypnotic. I’d seen it before dozens of times, but having something so familiar to focus on was keeping me sane in an otherwise unfamiliar territory.

“You know your doctor shit.” Sly chuckled, before mirroring Rex’s position and resting his elbows on his knees, his hands dangling between his spread thighs.

With Rex’s tissue clutched in my fist, I dabbed at the corners of my eyes, trying not to rub the delicate skin. “I’m a nurse, so I know some doctor shit,” I replied.

“Ooh, a nurse.” He smiled. “Are the uniforms sexier across the pond?”

His abysmal flirting had a smile finally creeping across my lips. “Sexy? God no, they’re like blue hammocks, but they are comfortable.”

Rex cleared his throat, interrupting the banter that had risen up between me and Sly.

“Why don’t you tell us why you’re so upset and giving the nurse here drama?” Rex stated, but this time, his eyes radiated kindness, and not the cold glimmer from before.

His electric gaze drew me in, bright blue and fixed on me. Lines at the corner of his eyes denoted a love of laughing, and completely contradicted the gruff persona that he had going on mere minutes before. It should weird me out how he could switch from stone-cold to kindness with just a thought, but then, isn’t that what I did? Wasn’t I normally the immovable abrupt nurse one minute and then the sympathetic caregiver the next?

I’d always thought it showed a level of emotional maturity that I—and people like Rex—could alternate for different people and in different situations, though some people had called me strange for it.

“My sister moved here six months ago to live with her boyfriend. I haven’t seen her in all that time,” I started telling them about my worry for Millie, and they listened intently. “I’ve barely spoken to her, actually. She hardly returns my calls or texts.”

“Honeymoon phases will do that,” Gauge chimed in beside me.

“No, it’s more than that, she’s not like that either.” Millie was the kid who used to spend all of her free time with her parents, so her not returning their calls was worrying. “I was already making plans to book a long holiday, I had some time accumulated, so I could come out here and check on her when Dad called. He was listed as her next of kin and he got a call from someone here at the hospital notifying him that she’d been in an accident. I immediately got the first flight out and here I am.” My lips turned up in what was supposed to be a smile but I’m sure was more like a grimace. My fingers picked at the tissue, twisting it into shapes to occupy my hands.

“So you don’t know anything about your sister?” Rex’s knees cracked as he rose to his full height before me.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Nurse Ratched?—”

Guffaws of laughter burst out from the men surrounding me. Sly’s hand clutched at his stomach as he leaned over in hysterics. “Nurse Ratched. Oh brother, she’s got Missy all figured out after five minutes.” He leaned back looking upwards at Rex’s now scowling face. “I told you bro, that woman has a hard-on for ya.”

“Shut it, Sylvester.”

I watched their back and forth, amused at the bickering.

“Brother, I’m telling you, Nurse Ratched saw you eyeballing queenie here and didn’t like it,” Gauge jumped in with the ribbing, but he had me confused. Was he talking about me?

“We told you not to stick—” “Mpf.” Rex’s shitkicker collided with Sly’s shin, a hard thud of rubber meeting bone had the man leaning over to rub his leg, a mad grin across his face.

“Don’t get mad at me because you have shit taste in pus—” Another thud, harder than the first one had Sly wincing.

“Watch your fucking mouth in front of the lady,” Rex warned. “She doesn”t need to hear that filth. Princess has her own problems without listening to you spit obscenities.”

Gauge and Sly’s eyes widened as they looked at each other from either side of me, I felt like piggy-in-the-middle as they mouthed obscenities at each other. Their lips framing the word and giggling like school girls.

“Uh, not to interrupt your conversation, but what do you mean ‘she didn’t like it?’” It surely couldn’t mean what I thought it meant? That nurse singled me out because a man was looking at me—a man I never even noticed was looking at me—and that’s why she stopped me from seeing my sister in some internal battle that only she was involved in?

“Rex clocked you when your fine ass walked in.” Sly chuckled, and continued not noticing the evil glare that he was getting from both Rex and I. Gauge groaned, dropping his head into his hands as Sly’s mouth opened and more sound came out. “He was staring at you standing at the desk for ages and Missy saw, that’s why she was mean. Normally she’s as sweet as pie.”

As he laughed to himself, he noticed the silence around him and the pointed look from Gauge giving him a head shake, trying to silently get him to shut his mouth, but the cat was out of the bag. “What?” He genuinely had no idea what he had done.

“She didn’t let me see my sister and it wasn’t even my fault,” I muttered to myself, before glaring up at Rex. I stood up, my head barely meeting Rex’s chin. “You’re going to go over there and make it right, Captain Obvious.” My finger jabbing his chest may have been stabbing at a brick wall for all the good it did, my finger bending on impact. “You tell your girlfriend I’m seeing Millie right now?—”

His hand grabbed mine, holding my fingers trapped against him. “She’s not my girlfriend, and… I didn’t know she would do that.” He stepped back, releasing me. My hand dropped to my side, I could still feel the heat from his touch on my skin.

His large frame twisted around, stalking toward the desk. The nurse preened under his harsh gaze, and she leaned forward, squishing her tits together to create a shadow of cleavage under her scrubs. “Princess wants to see her sister, what room’s she in?” His voice boomed from across the room in a tone that I’m sure had people rushing to do his bidding.

Her face fell as she realized that he wasn’t there to flirt with her. Her dark eyes narrowed on me before she got a grip and smoothed her face out, putting on that fake smile that she’d shown me earlier. “Sorry, babe, visiting hours are done, she’ll have to come back tomorrow. But you can stay as long as you need to.”

I scoffed at her lame attempt at sucking up. As Rex leaned closer to her, whispering sweet nothings, her face paled. Missy’s eyes lowered to the counter and watched Rex’s tatted fingers make patterns on the marble top.

I had no idea what he said to her, but it didn’t look like a lover’s reunion, that’s for sure.