Page 8 of Ripper's Redemption

“Us,” he echoes, clinging to the word like a lifeline.

“Yeah, brother,” I nod, feeling the first rush of real hope in my veins. “Us.”

The sirens scream closer, red and blue lights flashing in the distance until they ultimately arrive.

“Stay with us, man. They’re right here.” I tell him, gripping his hand tight.

His skin is clammy, but his grip is strong. He’s fighting, and so will we.

Bama whispers, his voice strained but defiant. “The Commander wants a war,”

“Enough talk about him, he’ll get one,” I promise, my tone as hard as steel. “But not tonight. Tonight, we make sure you get to the hospital and get you through this shit.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, eyes fluttering shut, but there’s a flicker of hope there.

The club can deal with the Commander bullshit later. Our people come above everything else.

The paramedics come rushing out of the ambulance with a gurney and make their way over to us.

It all happens so fast—it’s chaotic, and loud, but in that chaos, we know this is his best chance to make it through.

Their practiced hands move swiftly, they pack the wound with gauze and apply pressure before getting him on the gurney and rushing back toward the ambulance.

I turn and look at one of the paramedics, “Which hospital are you taking him to?”

The older woman continues working on him but responds, “Billings Clinic. Your friend here needs a trauma center.”

“He’s tough,” the other woman says, assessing the situation. “We’ll do our best.”

“Do more than that,” I growl, unwilling to accept anything less.

“Ripper,” Stiletto warns softly, placing a calming hand on my arm. “They’re here to help him.”

“Yeah, I know,” I sigh, letting some of the tension bleed out.

“Anytime,” she replies, her smile small but reassuring.

In this life, kindness is rare, but it’s moments like these that remind me why we fight. Not just for survival, but for each other.

The paramedics get Bama in the back of their ambulance and rush off toward Billings Clinic.

Stiletto rushes over to her bike, “We should get there as soon as possible, right?”

I go over to her and put a hand on her forearm, forcing her to look back at me. “Stiletto, what were you two doin’ out here?”

I’m asking her a question I know Zane’s going to end up asking whenever he gets to the hospital…but we have to call him first and tell him about this whole mess.

She swallows hard and is quiet for a few moments, obviously not wanting to tell me. “Me and Bama, we’re—,” she shuts her eyes and inhales sharply. “We’re sort of dating, or we were…I don’t know. All I know is he has his eyes on Jordyn all the time and I called him out on it tonight.”

I furrow my brows, “Jordyn, Roxy and Bolt’s daughter?”

Anger filters in through her eyes and she clicks her tongue. “Yep, that would be the one.”

Bama’s a good guy and he’d never cheat on a woman, that’s for damn sure. “Do you think maybe the green-eyed monster’s gotten ahold of you?”

She whips her head around to glare at me so fast. “Don’t make it seem like I’m fucking crazy, Ripper. I’m not. I know what I’m seeing, and the glimmer he used to have in his eye when he saw me is gone. He kept denying it, and then that’s when we were shot at and he was hit.”

I swallow hard, understanding the severity of the situation. “I see. Well, we’d better get over to the hospital. You go ahead, I’m gonna call Zane and let him know what’s going on.”

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