Chapter 20 #2
Yeats put a hand up to stop him. “Relax. Breathe, Seb. Razek said to stay put while he does some digging. No one knows you’re here. I have you registered under the name Michael Conrad.”
Sebastian sagged back into the pillows, trying to ignore the pain in his chest and the fear that was taking root in his stomach. “I can’t lay here waiting for someone to figure out I’m not dead and come to finish the job.”
“Which makes it more important to figure out who tried to kill you. Drive-by shootings are not a thing in town. I told Razek about Cat’s old man, and I mentioned Chris looking for you in Johnstown.”
“I doubt Chris had anything to do with this. It might be no one involved with the Sharks, but since they killed Tiger, I can’t rule it out.”
“You’re sounding like a cop.” Yeats cracked his knuckles. “What do we do next?”
“First, we get me checked out of here. Then you can talk with that brunette from the pizza joint and see if she knows anything or worked that night beside Caitlyn.”
“Then what?” Yeats raised a brow and smirked.
“I think we need to find a place for me to lie low for a while.” Sebastian hated admitting he might need to stay off his feet longer than a couple of days. The first place anyone would start looking for him would be hospitals and clinics.
“Yeah, and I can think of one place that might be good.”
Sebastian growled, knowing exactly where Yeats had in mind. “Don’t say it.”
Yeats opened his mouth to answer him when they were both interrupted by a knock at the door. A nurse peeked her head in and smiled when she saw them both awake and alert.
“Oh good, you’re awake,” she said cheerfully.
“I need to get out of here,” Sebastian said.
“I’m Daralyn, and I’ll be your nurse this shift,” she said, nodding toward Yeats.
“You two know each other?” Was there one person in this county that Yeats didn’t know? Sebastian frowned at the curvy, dark-haired nurse. Her bright pink scrubs were too bright in these drab accommodations.
“Daralyn is Casper’s wife. It’s good to see you, Dara.” Yeats grinned.
“There is a police officer outside waiting to ask you some questions. The doctor wants to keep you overnight for observations for another day. You got shot,” Daralyn said, as if he didn’t know it.
Irritated by her tone, he said, “Great.”
“What my friend is trying to say is he’ll be happy to speak with the police, but he won’t be staying the night. Michael?” Yeats stressed using the alias they set him up while in the clinic.
Sebastian gave Yeats a quick glance and jerked his head. “No. I said no police,” he mouthed to Yeats.
“Razek.” Yeats tilted his head toward the door.
Wonderful. His old chief came the whole way here.
For what? To give him a lecture? His father would do a fine job of that when he returned from that cruise with his mom.
If he got it his way, they wouldn’t even know he’d been here, let alone what happened.
His eyes narrowed on Daralyn, then on Yeats.
Daralyn pressed her lips thinly as she checked Sebastian’s vitals. Sebastian turned back to the nurse. “You need to unhook these wires unless you want me to do that myself.”
“This really isn’t wise,” she protested.
“This isn’t my first time getting shot. Remove the wires, then tell the cop to come in.”
“Please,” Yeats finished.
Daralyn shook her head at Sebastian. She glanced at Yeats as she took her rolling cart and left.
“I can see the wheels turning in your head. Why did you think Caitlyn brought you here? You lost too much blood, and the bullet was still in you. Otherwise, Daralyn would have patched you up and got you out of here with no one the wiser,” Yeats explained.
“How long do I have before anyone knows I’m still alive?” Sebastian grunted, his gut cramping.
“Caitlyn left me a message. You’re dead, man. For now. Daralyn won’t rat you out, and neither will Casper.”
“You’re certain?” Sebastian asked, the doubt battling his yearning for this to be over.
“100%. Casper might not be the best brother, but he’d never do anything that might involve Caitlyn or Owen getting in any further danger. It wouldn’t surprise me if Casper sends men to keep an eye out if he doesn’t himself.”
A man wearing a dark suit and tie strolled in.
“Chief Razek,” Sebastian greeted him.
“Conrad.” Razek used Sebastian’s alias. “I understand you are involved in a shooting that took place yesterday evening.”
“Playing detective, now, are we?” Sebastian picked at the last piece of tape from the heart monitor. The machines made a beep, and the nurse rushed in, scowled at him, and shut them off.
“Someone must investigate. I understand you don’t want the locals involved, but I’ve already spoken to them. Someone reported hearing two shots and saw an SUV speeding from the parking lot. Of course, they found nothing. La Rosa’s security cameras didn’t pick up that part of the parking lot.”
“Figures,” Yeats muttered.
“Caitlyn Cortés Valesa is the one who found you and brought you here. She works at La Rosa’s.”
“Are you asking? It sounds like you already know.” Again, Sebastian glared at Yeats.
“You said you trusted him.” Yeats moved away from Sebastian’s bed, close to the closet filled with blankets and supplies.
“What didn’t Yeats tell you?” Sebastian asked.
“It seems like there may be a gang connection to this. You hook up with another club? I saw you left your motorcycle at the scene. Your girlfriend claimed she told you to leave it there and took you home that night. You haven’t been back to pick it up,” Razek said.
Girlfriend? Caitlyn. Relief, mingled with a touch of unexpected gratitude, bubbled up. Maybe they still had a chance. She wouldn’t let him get hurt, despite her feelings.
“She covered for me,” Sebastian confirmed, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips regardless of the tightness in his throat.
She might not have liked him keeping the truth from her, but she didn’t want him dead.
Despite her initial anger, she’d put herself at risk.
A fierce need to protect her and Owen radiated within him, laced with a surprising tenderness and peace he hadn’t known in a long time.
She did that. She brought him peace. He wouldn’t let Silas get near her or Owen.
“And my bike?”
“Don’t worry, man, it’s parked back at my place now. I asked a few members of the Soldiers to help. They’re the Christian Motorcycle Club in this area,” Yeats said for Razek’s benefit.
“You have clubs in this area?” Razek asked.
“Two. The one I mentioned and the Ghost Riders. Hasn’t been any trouble in a while.”
“And you haven’t gotten involved with any of them?” Razek asked, grilling him for facts. Reminding him of too much of his father. Sebastian knew his former boss had come because he wanted to help. Yeats was right. If Sebastian trusted anyone, it was Razek.
“No,” Sebastian clarified. “I’m a motorcycle safety coach. I ride, but I’m not affiliated with any motorcycle clubs in the area.”
“Caitlyn said it’s her old man, Silas. He wanted Cat to go talk to Sam about finding Michael here.”
“Silas Valesa, road name Shadow. He was to serve a sentence of twenty-five years with the possibility of parole after five. They denied him for six years, but recently, his parole was granted.” Razek picked up the wire Sebastian disconnected.
He twirled it with his fingers. “There is no connection to the Sharks.”
“You know all this, how?”
“Not a time to get sarcastic,” Razek told him. “I’m here because I need you alive. I don’t leave my town or my county for anyone.”
Razek’s words grated. Sebastian ignored the draft at his back. A flicker of anger sparked at being reminded that none of them would be here if Sebastian hadn’t failed in the first place.
“I’m sorry, I’m not at my best.” His anger dissolved.
“Listen to the doctor. I’ve talked to the local authorities. They’re digging up some information and keeping this on a need-to-know basis. I’m working on arranging somewhere for you to go where you’ll be safe.”
“I know a place,” Yeats said. “It’s the last place anyone would think to look.”
“Or the first.” Sebastian decided not to argue after the look Razek gave him.
He respected the man, but every moment he stayed in his bed gave Silas time to go after his sister.
Casper might have the Ghosts watch out for Caitlyn, but if there were Silas supporters in the club, Caitlyn, too, was in danger.
He didn’t trust anyone to keep her safe.
Not even God. He’d trusted God to keep Audra safe.
How could he trust God to do the same for Caitlyn?
For Owen? For his family? “I’m not willing to take that risk. ”
“They hid slaves under the old farmhouse during the Civil War, and it kept those people safe. It will keep you safe,” Yeats argued.
“How many people know about this place?” Razek asked.
“I’m not going home,” Sebastian said, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut, tight. Taking deep breaths of air, tasting faintly of antiseptic and something like lemon, Sebastian tried to calm down.
“Only the family and me.” Yeats smirked at Sebastian.
“Good.” Razek reached into his pocket. He pulled out a phone. “Stay safe. I’ll be in touch.”
“There is no way we can sneak in there and stay under the house without Sam finding out,” Sebastian protested.
“Who said anything about sneaking? You need to tell your sister you’re here and alive before you never have the chance to see her again. Besides, you have no other choice. Caitlyn and Owen are at stake in this, too.”
Sebastian leaned his head back farther into his pillows. Swallowing hard, he said, “Nothing can happen to Sam, Caitlyn, or Owen.”