Rich went with her like normal and helped her grab the takeout containers of food and their drinks. Since it’s just a few doors down from the shop, the two of them walk back and forth. That is one thing I’m not happy in the least about because we have no clue who’s after her still. I don’t want her out in the open like that, but she doesn’t listen to anyone. She wants to walk and enjoy the fresh air and time in the sun. While I can’t blame her for it, there is no way in hell right now is the time for her to be doing that shit.
Today’s been a long as hell day. I got a message from Stryker a little while ago letting me know he was sending Gwen home early. She’s not feeling good after eating her lunch and he doesn’t want her in the shop when she’s not feeling good. Even if it’s nothing contagious, Gwen or anyone else sick doesn’t need to be around people getting tattooed and pierced. I’m worried about her, but I can’t leave the shop as we’re busy as hell today.
I’ve been counting down the hours until closing time. My only thought is getting to my ol’ lady so I can make sure she’s okay. There isn’t going to be any fighting from her today; she’s going to the fucking doctor and I don’t care if she doesn’t like it or not. Gwen’s health is more important than her stubbornness. Plus, I’m worse than her so she’s going to lose this battle.
“You gettin’ a beer with us?” Playboy asks as we begin to clean everything up.
“Nope. Gwen got sent home sick today and I need to get to her. She’s been sick for a while now. Keeps refusin’ to go to the doctor. So, I’m makin’ her today,” I let him know.
“I’ll head back with you. Want me to have Sam check on her before we get there?” he asks me.
“No. She’s got the boys and I’d feel horrible if they got sick,” I say, not wanting him to have sick babies to deal with on top of everything else.
“Let’s get the fuck outta here then. The rest of this shit can wait until the mornin’,” he orders, tossing down his rag on the bench and looking at me.
Shrugging my shoulders, I finish wiping down my hands before following him out. We’re usually the last two guys here when we’re working here so it’s no surprise we’re last to leave today. The rest of the guys cut out so they can get a drink or find a piece of ass for the night. Playboy and I don’t have to worry about that shit and would rather spend our free time with our women and the rest of the family. So, we always stay a little later than everyone to get more work done.
We straddle our bikes and rev the engines before taking off. It doesn’t take long to get to the clubhouse since we try to keep our businesses as close as possible. If anything happens, we’re right there to take care of any problems that may arise. Plus, it’s not unheard of for the assholes gunning for us to try and take out our business.
Pulling into the clubhouse, we park in our spots before heading inside. Rich is sitting at the end of the bar with his phone resting in front of him and a bottled water in his hand. When he sees me striding inside, he immediately stands up.
“Killer, she’s resting upstairs in your room. Just after eating lunch she started feeling like shit. Got real pale and was sweating profusely. She didn’t feel like she had a fever when I brought her back. I drove her car and left my bike at the shop because she was also feelin’ weak as hell,” he informs me, regret and pain filling his face.
Rich and Gwen have gotten close since he’s usually the one guarding her. If I thought he was after my woman, he’d be buried already, but they treat one another like a brother and sister would.
“It’s okay. I’m goin’ up with her now. If I need anythin’ I’ll let you know,” I state, walking past him so I can get to my room.
I take the stairs two at a time as Playboy sits next to Rich. When I get to my door, it’s sitting partially open. That’s weird considering Gwen never leaves the door open. Walking in, I see her lying on top of the covers, her clothes and shoes still on. Gwen’s feet are dangling over the edge of the bed. For a quick minute, it looks as if she’s not breathing. Rushing to her side, I try to wake her up.
“Gwen. Sparrow, wake up for me,” I practically yell, shaking her a little bit. “Gwen!”
I yell out, sitting her up and continuing to try and wake her up. Nothing is working. Panic and dread fill me as I try to find her pulse. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m not in my right mind or if it’s because she’s not breathing, but I don’t find anything. Picking up my woman, I run out of the room with her in my arms.
“Someone fuckin’ help me!” I yell through the clubhouse.
The second I reach the bottom of the stairs, Playboy, Rich, and Slim are at my side. Stryker is just walking in the door and rushes to our side.
“What’s goin’ on?” Slim asks, looking at Gwen from head to toe.
“I don’t know. Stryker sent her home early because she didn’t feel good. Rich said she went up to lay down. Now, I can’t wake her up. I’m goin’ to the hospital,” I announce to them, pushing past them as the rest of the guys follow me.
Slim and Playboy are on their phones so I’m sure the rest of the club and women will be there soon. I’d call an ambulance, but they tend to take their time getting to our clubhouse. Most of the time whoever they’re coming for is already dead or we don’t care to have them taken away by ambulance. Add in that they’re coming to a clubhouse and they don’t like it. We’re all criminals they don’t want to help. It doesn’t matter if one of the women needs help. It’s definitely quicker for me to take her myself.
Rich opens the back door of the SUV and I slide in with Gwen still in my arms. Playboy is in the driver’s seat while Rich jumps into the passenger side. The rest of the guys who are here jump on their bikes and start them up. Still, Gwen doesn’t respond at all. My chest hurts and my breathing is rapid as I don’t take my eyes off of her. For the first time in my life, I pray as Playboy rushes us to the hospital.
His phone is going off the entire trip and he completely ignores it. I don’t bother going for mine as I feel it vibrate in my pocket repeatedly. Whoever it is can wait because Gwen is the most important thing here and until I know what’s going on with her, no one else matters to me.
We’ve been in the waiting room at the hospital for hours. It seems as if time is dragging by as we wait for any news on Gwen. I’ve asked repeatedly and almost been taken out of here by the security guards. The two men who work here are now stationed right outside the waiting room. I’m still not answering my phone or talking to anyone as a million different thoughts flood my mind about what’s going on with her.
Most of the men are sitting in the chairs. To anyone not familiar with them, they’d appear relaxed and calm. In reality, they’re waiting for the slightest sign there’s either trouble meeting us here or ready to hold me back if I decide to tear the place apart. Playboy and Rich haven’t left my side as I pace back and forth only looking up when the door opens up.
I’ve been to the front desk numerous times in order to find out any information about my woman. The lady sitting there is terrified and tries to rush off every single time I walk her way. I haven’t yelled at her once as I ask about my woman. There’s nothing she can tell me yet other than they’re still examining her and waiting on test results. Still the last time I roared out my pain and frustration, the security guards made an appearance only adding fuel to the fire because I don’t need them here. None of us are here to cause problems; we only want my woman to get better.