Bolt nods in confirmation. “San Diego has got some good brothers. I was impressed with their prez, and with Salem and Grumbler.”
“Niran too,” I add to Bolt’s assessment.
“So it was a success?” Snatcher’s mouth turns up. “May even help get Drummer off our backs. I know he’s pleased that we got their problems sorted.” His smile widens in satisfaction. “Speaking of our fearless leader, Drummer’s passed a suggestion from San Diego on. They’d like to take advantage of Swift’s knowledge and get her to set up a program for training enforcers in interrogation techniques.”
Snorts go around the table, but I shrug.
Rascal sits forward, rolling a joint between his thumbs and fingers. When he finishes concentrating on his task, he raises his eyes to me ignoring the glare from Snatcher. He’ll roll it here, but light it up later. “How do you feel about that, Swift? Sharing trade secrets?”
I shrug. “I don’t mind. There’s probably a lot I can teach them.”
“Two way?” Piston asks. “Will you learn from them?”
I roll my eyes, thinking it’s highly unlikely. Salem was a good brother, and I know Blade from Tucson has a lethal reputation. Getting together could have benefits for us all. Mace, from Colorado is to me an unknown, as is Twister from Vegas. But I doubt whether I could learn anything from them.
“Don’t be too sure,” Road remarks from his place down the table. “Ever scalped a man, Swift? Blade has.”
“Yeah?” Leaning forward, my eyes land on my man. Now that sounds interesting and certainly isn’t in my repertoire.
Road raises his chin. “Mouse taught him. It was quite an education.” He chuckles. “He had two strung up. It was one way of getting the other man talking fast.”
“You watched?”
“Sure. Turned my fuckin’ stomach.” Road doesn’t seem the least put out to admit that he’s squeamish.
So there might be something for me to learn. Maybe I was wrong to dismiss them so completely. Not one to miss an opportunity to tease my man, I wink at him. “Such a sensitive soul.”
You love me, he mouths back.
“Fuck.” Piston rolls his eyes dramatically.
“Could our cooperation get us off the hook with Drummer?” Pip asks seriously. “When he finds out Stormy’s back and we’ve been hiding him?”
I raise my hand. “San Diego thinks we’ve got another week or so before we declare him out bad. I do think they accepted Stormy’s fled out of the country or is dead in a ditch. Having met us, they don’t think we’re hiding him.” I grimace. “I didn’t like lying to them.”
“I’m starting to think that was a mistake,” Snatcher admits while rubbing at his temples. “From what Swift has said, we can trust them.”
“But you didn’t know whether he was alive or dead,” Pip remarks. “Even now, we don’t know if he’ll ever regain consciousness.”
“If he does, we can always say he just turned up,” Honor puts in.
I’m about to say any lie would have to be well planned when my phone vibrates in my pocket. Unlike other chapters, since any of us could get a lead during church, we all keep our phones with us. I glance down at the screen and see it’s a call from the doctor treating the man we’re currently discussing.
“Speak of the devil.” I turn to Snatcher. “It’s the hospital.”
“Answer.”
I do, not expecting much. As I’ve been away ‘on business’ for a few days, I’m expecting the doctor’s just checking in, or maybe telling me Stormy has lost the battle he’s fighting. I place my finger to my lips, then put the phone on speaker.
“Doc?”
“Karen?”
“Yeah, you got her.”
“I’ve got news. Jeremiah woke up. Only for a moment, but we’ve taken the ventilator out and he’s breathing on his own. It’s good news, and a sign that he might make it.”
Snatcher points to the door.
“I’ll come immediately. That’s great, Doc.”
A few more pleasantries and I end the call.
Pip starts to stand. “Mind company, Swift?”
Not at all. I nod at him. Road’s the only one who I wouldn’t want by my side. Not if I’m trying to kid the doctor I’m a halfway caring wife.
Pip and I waste no time. Leaving App with Road, I meet our ex-prez downstairs. He’s already got the keys to one of the club’s SUVs. I pass my cut into Igor’s safekeeping as I pass the reception desk.
It’s only a short drive to get to the hospital. Pip doesn’t speak, and I don’t try to make conversation. Inside, my thoughts are whirling. Will now be the time I get to find out what happened to Stormy? Of course, the main thing is discovering whether there’s any danger heading toward the club. On a personal note, I’m hoping there’s not. I can’t wait for Road, App and myself to head back to our home. Staying at the club on lockdown as we’ve been for the past few weeks hasn’t been terrible, but everyone knows our business, and seem to take special note of when we’ve been fucking. While it doesn’t bother me them knowing, I’ve had enough of the leg pulling.
I can’t ignore there’s the issue that the club hid his re-emergence from Drummer, and I, by omission, lied to the San Diego club. If Stormy’s betrayed us, maybe I should put him six feet under without anyone being the wiser. Outside of the club, no one would ever know what happened to him, and hopefully we’d retain our charter.
Pip parks and we both get out. A beep sounds as he locks the doors, and we walk to the building I’ve had a rest from the last few days. I take the same weary path as I’ve done many times previously.
The doctor appears to be waiting for me. He steps forward and opens the doors to ICU, allowing me and my companion inside. I start walking toward Stormy’s room when he stops me.
“He hasn’t said anything more. He woke up, said a few odd words, then became unconscious again. But he’s no longer in a coma, it’s a natural sleep. Maybe you can talk to him, and he’ll wake again.”
“What did he say?” Pip gets straight to the important stuff.
The doctor smiles. “I presume he’s an animal lover. His words were, I made my cat purr.”
What? I exchange a look with Pip. As far as I know, Stormy doesn’t have nor ever had any pets. A cat person? No, no way. I can’t see that. Stormy might be up for pussy, but not of the meowing kind.
“Well, if he wakes, call a nurse, will you? He needs to be checked out.” The doctor, oblivious to our non-verbal interaction, pauses and meets my eyes. “This is a good sign, Karen. I’m more optimistic at last. Now there could still be brain damage, and don’t be surprised if he can’t remember the crash. Often people have amnesia after a head injury such as his, if only for the last few minutes before they were injured.”
Another pause, and a quirk of his lips. “Or injured for the last time in his case. Oh, and if you need to inform the cops, I’d like to assess him before they come in.”
I’d tell him outright there’ll be no cops involved if I could get away with it. Instead, I just smile.