9. Jack
JACK
The stern nurse is back, bustling around me, checking all my monitors and the drips in the back of my hand.
I still hurt like fuck, and every move has me hissing in pain.
I want to get the hell out of here, so I can help the club, and protect Camile, but I know there’s zero chance of that happening.
Besides, I remember what Ivani said about me taking risks that will make me worse, and I know she’s right.
As pigheaded as I am, even I can tell I’m not in any fit state to be heading back to the club right now.
A knock comes at the door, and a different nurse sticks his head around. “Sorry to interrupt, but the sheriff is here to speak to Mr. McGrath.”
I stiffen. What the fuck?
“I don’t want to speak to the sheriff.”
“He’s been back a couple of times now, waiting for you to wake up and be in a suitable condition to speak to you about what happened. I can’t turn him away again.”
The strict nurse fusses with my pillows.
“I’m sorry,” she says, “but we must report anyone coming in with gunshot wounds. It’s the law.”
Fuck. The last thing I need right now is dealing with the cops. It doesn’t look like I have much choice.
I huff out a breath. “I don’t even know what happened to me,” I growl. “I have little memory of the incident, none of you will tell me where I was shot, or what surgery I had, and I still haven’t seen a doctor. Damn it.”
The nurse purses her lips and holds my stare. She’s got balls, I’ll give her that.
“Fine, send him in. Let’s get this over with.”
The nurse leaves the room, passing by the sheriff on her way out.
Sheriff Busby is in his early sixties and must be heading for retirement right now.
He has more hair on his eyebrows and in his ears than he does on his head, and any muscle he might once have had has turned to fat on his belly.
He’s a reasonable man, and we’ve had a mutual understanding that so long as neither of us cause trouble for the other person, we stay out of each other’s way.
He turns a blind eye to plenty of things, assuming none of the local residents get hurt or swept up in any of our dealings, but it’s not so easy for him to turn his head when he’s been called directly to the hospital.
That shit starts up a paper trail, and things do not easily vanish once in the system.
He’s joined by a uniformed officer from the local police department, but the uniformed cop seems to be there purely for decoration rather than anything useful and hangs back.
“Hey, Jack,” Sheriff Busby greets me. “Can’t say I’m happy to see you laid up in bed. Though I had a feeling you’d end up here before long.”
“Can’t exactly say I’m happy to be here either, Sheriff.” I check his hands. “What, no flowers?”
He doesn’t even quirk his lips at my attempt at humor. “You know I need to talk about the events that led up to you being here.”
“Talk all you like.”
“In your own words, can you tell us what happened?”
I shrug. “I can’t remember.”
“You can’t remember anything?”
I shake my head. “Nope. Amnesia, I think they call it. It’s quite common after someone has been through a traumatic event.”
“Okay, Jack, if you can’t remember anything, I’m sure you can at least remember if someone out there might want you dead.”
I chuckle at that. “Oh, Sheriff, I expect a lot of people want me dead.”
“Word is that you’ve had a couple of run-ins with the Revenants lately. Do you think this is their work?”
“Definitely not.”
He purses his lips. “If you can’t remember anything, how would you know?”
“Because me and Beau left on good terms. We shook on it that there wouldn’t be any more trouble between us.”
“And you believe him?” His huge, fuzzy eyebrows raise questioningly.
“Yeah, I believe him. He’s a man of his word.”
“And what was it that brought the two of you together so amicably?”
I shift my position, trying to get comfortable, and wince as a fresh stab of pain goes through me. “You know, just men with similar interests.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“You can believe whatever you want, but it’s the truth.”
I don’t need to fake the depth of my sigh or the weariness on my face. How long am I going to be laid up? No way can I spend days, or even weeks, lying around in bed. I’ll go nuts.
I hate that I haven’t seen Camile yet and instead am having to deal with this shit. Vani promised me she’d call her, and get one of the guys to come in, too. I’m used to being at the center of activity, not standing—or at least lying—on the sidelines.
“You should know you’re not the only person we’re talking to,” the sheriff continues. “I’ve sent my deputy and a couple of men to your compound to ask around about what happened.”
Fuck. That must be why I haven’t heard or seen anyone. They’ve got their hands full dealing with the fucking cops. This is the last thing we need.
We’ve normally got a handle on the local police because we’ve got a few bent cops who are on our books and are able to make things vanish when we need them to, but me being brought to the main hospital has probably fucked that.
I’m sure the guys felt like they didn’t have any choice but to bring me here.
My injuries were clearly bad enough that they needed a professional surgeon, and not the retired vet we sometimes use for situations like these, or even Shelley with her medical training.
It was a life-or-death situation, and they couldn’t risk someone fucking things up.
I want to get back to the compound, but there’s no way Nurse Ratched is going to let me leave.
Sheriff Busby reaches into his pocket and pulls out some printouts that have clearly been taken as stills from road cameras. He spreads them across the little table that swings across my bed.
“Recognize these?”
Yes. They’re the vehicles containing the men who shot at us.
“Should I?” I say instead.
“We believe they may have been involved in your shooting.”
I narrow my eyes. “If you believe that, then why did you accuse the Revenants? These vehicles clearly aren’t their style.”
“Just wanted to see your reaction.”
He’s playing with me. Does that mean he knows more than he’s letting on?
If he’s only sent the deputy and a couple of local cops to the compound, it means they’re just asking questions, and it’s not a full raid.
We can’t have the police getting involved.
I don’t know the full story about what’s happened to Ghost, but having cops show up will most likely be his death warrant.
I have to give them something. Something to send them sniffing in the wrong direction. I’m not happy about it, though.
“There was a situation six months ago involving a psychiatric hospital. I believe the owner was involved with organized crime. It’s possible this is payback for that.”
He narrows his eyes. “A psychiatric unit where?”
“Nowhere in your district.”
“It’s in my district if you’ve brought trouble back here, Jack.”
“Yeah, well, they’ve got what they wanted—revenge on me—so they should be long gone by now.”
I hope he’s buying my story.
He clucks his tongue as he thinks. “The last time we picked up on the vehicles was when they were heading toward the freeway. We lost them after that, but there’s a chance they switched their plates.”
“Sounds about right. They’re professionals, after all.”
I don’t want Sheriff Busby digging into the events surrounding the psychiatric hospital we burned to the ground, but I’d prefer he does that, a long way from here, than learns about Ledger’s family, and Camile, and all the shit that’s gone down with that.
I don’t want it to cause trouble for anyone at the university either, but my priorities aren’t about them right now.
Knowing the sheriff, he won’t want to dig up events that happened hundreds of miles from here. He just wants a peaceful community and an easy life. It’s the reason he turns a blind eye so much—he can’t even be bothered to deal with the paperwork.
“Okay, Jack, we’ll leave you to rest. If you think of anything else, you know where to find me.”
“Thanks for stopping by.”
The sheriff and officer leave, but a moment later, the door swings open again. I almost groan, thinking the sheriff has forgotten something, but instead it’s two faces I’d much rather see.
“Jack!”
Camile races in, followed closely by Ace. I’m happy to see them both, but particularly Camile. I immediately feel stronger, and braver—a better man just for being in her company.
“Hey, Baby-girl,” I say, my voice gruff and throat thick with tears.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Ace says.
I respect him like hell for that. Ace might act like a fucking lunatic, but sometimes he’s got his head on straight.
“Hey, Ace, before you go, can you get a message back to the compound?”
He nods. “Whatever you need, Prez.”
“Can you ask Rook to call me and be put through to my room. The doctor still hasn’t been to see me, my memory is as patchy as fuck, and I want to know what the hell happened out there.
I can’t be sitting here not knowing how it went down.
It’s driving me fucking crazy.” I pause to catch my breath.
“Get Normie to the compound ASAP and get the fucking cops on our books to do their damned jobs and get the others off our backs.”
“They did provide us footage from the roads. That’s helped us locate where they are possibly keeping Ghost,” Ace says.
“That’s some good news. We need to be coordinated, though, so that this doesn’t blow up in our faces with the rest of the department.” I fill him in on everything I told the sheriff.
Ace nods. “Okay, that makes sense. I’ll pass it back to the others, though it might be too late.
They know how to handle the cops, though.
They’ll deny knowledge of everything.” He pauses and adds, “They’re currently waiting on a call from Ledger’s father, Hector Sanchez, to get proof of life for Ledger in return for them not cutting a finger off of Ghost.”
I wince at that.
I look between them. “How the hell is that supposed to happen?”
Ace shoots our girl a grin. “Camile came up with a super smart plan.”
“Yeah?” I can’t help the pleasure in my voice.
She shrugs, bashful. “Hopefully it works. I’m sure someone else would have thought of it, if I didn’t.”
“She’s being modest,” Ace says. “Anyway, let me go speak to the others and give you some space.”
I want to ask her what her plan was, but there’s something I need to tell her, and if I don’t, I’m pretty sure I’m going to bust my stitches, no matter what the nurse says. Ace leaves us alone, and the atmosphere immediately changes. It softens, grows sweeter, and I know it’s because of her.
She foregoes the chair and sits on the edge of my bed instead, as close to me as possible. I can see in her eyes how frightened she was that she almost lost me, and how grateful she is now that we’re together.
“I got your note,” I tell her.
“You did?”
“You said you loved me.”
“Of course I love you, Jack. Are you crazy? How could you not know that by now?”
“I guess I did know it. I just didn’t believe it until now.”
She gives a small smile. “Well, believe it.”
“I almost died, and it ...”
It all hits me, and I take a choked breath, struggling.
Witnessing my battle, she leans in and wraps her arms around my head and shoulders carefully, shifting her body more fully onto the bed.
She pulls me into her gently, and I press my face to her chest. I almost died.
It punches me in a way it hasn’t before.
I shake against her, giving in to my emotions.
I can be vulnerable with her in a way I’ve never been with anyone before.