“Hey, beautiful,” he said, his voice raspy, like he had a sore throat.
“Hey,” she said, taking in the numbers on the monitors he was hooked up to, and the bulky bandage on the leg they had propped up on pillows. “What the hell? Is this a habit with you, or...?”
Gabe smiled and her heart sped up. “Forgot to tell you I’m a little accident prone.”
“Accident prone?” She smiled and shook her head. “I heard it was a gator.”
“He weren’t that big, didn’t even give me bragging rights and rip off my leg or anything.”
She looked at his leg again. “It looks like he did a pretty good number on it. What the hell were you doing out in the swamp?”
“Eh, you know...swimming and stuff.”
She nudged him on the shoulder. “This is serious, Gabriel. If you and I are going to have a relationship...”
His smile grew wider. “We’re going to have a relationship?”
“Hush, let me talk. I’m not sure I can stand all this, worrying about you all the time. No wonder Blackheart is single.”
“He kinda seems that way, but you ain’t met Miss Sally yet.”
“Miss Sally?”
“She’s his girl. She’s been his girl since they were kids...for some reason they both have a problem admitting it.”
“Well, if her life is anything like you’ve made mine the past few weeks, I can see her reasoning.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, letting the smile drop from his face. “It ain’t all getting shot and beat up and alligators and shit, I promise. This has just been an off month.”
She laughed at that and found his hand under the sheet. Giving it a squeeze she said, “I sure hope it’s not. And I hope these ‘off months’ are few and far between.”
He grinned but didn’t confirm or deny that. Instead he said, “Hey, can you do me a favor?”
“Sure, I can try.”
“My friend Chance...Chauncey Leblanc...he was brought in with me. He was in pretty bad shape and I’m worried about him. Can you find out how he is?” Gabe heard Blackheart talking to the cops while he was being loaded into the ambulance. They’d found a lead pipe with blond hair and blood stuck all over it. They’d beaten his friend with a lead pipe before he got there...the thought of it made him want to throw up, especially because he’d gotten there too late to stop it.
“Yeah. Is he why you were out there in that swamp?”
“He needed my help, and he’d have my back in a heartbeat.”
She squeezed his hand again and nodded. “Alright, I’ll see what I can find out. Don’t go anywhere while I’m gone.”
“Hell, they won’t even let me up to pee. I was pressing that buzzer for a while before you got here.” He grinned then and said, “You could help me with that too...”
She laughed. “Huh-uh, not my job. I’ll send in the male attendant with the urinal.”
“Fuck that,” he said, curling his lip. No guy was touching his junk, ever. Then jokingly he said, “I can’t believe you won’t help me out. I mean...I’ll bet you snuck all kinda peeks when I was recuperating from that gunshot. Ain’t like you never seen the equipment before, huh? Admit it. It’s what keeps you coming back.”
She loved the way his green eyes twinkled when he laughed. She threw a wink at him and said, “Of course I saw it, why the hell else would I still be here?” She could hear him laugh as she walked away. That shot of adrenaline she’d gotten when she heard he was hurt was receding, but it had left her body shaky...and she still didn’t like the fact that he never really told her the truth about what had happened to him. She didn’t know a lot about MCs, but she knew enough to know if she got involved with a man who belonged to one, that would probably be her life. She also knew enough about herself to know that she needed to do a lot of long, hard thinking about whether or not she’d be able to handle that before she went any further with this one. Maybe it was something she should have thought about before she got so attached. She’d never known her mother, but it seemed they had something in common...a soft spot for the bad boys.
The Mad Men worked out of a club behind an auto shop in Pearlington, Mississippi. It was just across the Louisiana/Mississippi border and only about an hour drive from the Jokers’ clubhouse. Blackheart and about a dozen of his men were about fifteen minutes out when he got the text from Lowlife telling him that both Lear’s and Newton’s bikes were at the clubhouse and it looked like there were at least a dozen or so more of them there. Blackheart knew the easiest way would be a blitz attack, but the last thing he wanted was a sea of bodies. He wanted one man, and if he had to take more out to get at him he would...but he’d like to keep the slaughter to a minimum. He’d had enough legal shit to deal with lately; he didn’t need any more.
During the day when the shop was open the Mad Men didn’t have any defenses around them, which was similar to his club. Over the years various threats had given him reason to think about building a fence around the club and posting armed guards...but the whole idea of his club, from the first board he’d put up with his own two hands, had been freedom. He wanted to live free from social “norms” and free from government interference...and definitely, free from cages. So, he’d foregone the security and just made sure anyone thinking about attacking his club would know exactly what they were in for. He’d been accused of being like an elephant: he never forgot anything...and he never let anything go. Usually he struck back when people who had it coming least expected it, and that was what he was about to do now. He’d given these assholes way too much freedom to come and go in his territory, and they’d taken that liberty to the max. That would stop...today...and Lear would agree to his terms, which would include turning Gregor over to them, or his entire club would have hell to pay. Blackheart’s only problem was that he didn’t want anyone innocent to get caught in the crossfire. He wanted all the women and any children out of that club before they hit it.
When they were about five minutes out, Blackheart pulled over to the side of the road. He motioned to the others to stop, and Le Singe and their SA Le Plant stopped next to him. “I’m going to text Lowlife now. We have to time this just right...the shop closes in half an hour for their lunch break. I know they lock it up tight from one to three every day and they head up to the club for lunch. Only problem will be that the place will also be full of the old ladies and sweet butts serving it up to them, and maybe some kids. So, once the civilian traffic is cleared out of the shop and it’s locked up tight, I’m going to send Lowlife and the boys in quietly to cover the doors and windows in that clubhouse. I don’t want this asshole getting away. Then, we’ll go in loud and heavy, through the front door. But I don’t want a shot fired before the women and children are out of there, unless we’re forced into it.” The men nodded and he said, “Big Mickey and Tiny can take the kids and girls up to the shop, just remind them to check those women for cell phones and weapons. Lear’s crazy Cajun old lady will kill one of us without batting one of those ridiculous fake eyelashes she wears, got it?”