Page 1 of Pike

Chapter 1

Pike

I exhale cigarette smoke into the air as I take in the room. Everyone is laughing and having a good time getting ready for my party in a few days. Turning thirty-six doesn’t really bother me. It’s just another day.

Some people enjoy their birthdays, and some don’t. I don’t really care either way. I’m happy just being alive. I shove out of the chair and walk toward the door, heading out into the cool night. The air is getting colder now, and I like it. I like breathing in the crisp winter air.

“Shouldn’t be out here alone,” I hear a voice warn me. I turn my head quickly to the left to see who spoke when shots are fired. I don’t have time to react before I’m hit and fall to the ground with a grunt. I hear boots hitting the pavement, and I know the asshole who did this just took off. I reach for my side, putting my hand over the hole as I try to stand up. Just as I push myself against the wall, the guys come rushing out, guns pulled and ready for a fight.

“What the fuck?” Mask yells when he sees me struggling. They guys rush over, a few moving past me to check the area. Mask kneels next to me and moves my hand, checking the wound before he curses under his breath.

“It’s not bad,” I tell him.

“Like fuck, it’s not.” He pulls out his cell phone and begins to call nine one one. I don’t want the cops around here, but Mask can handle them. He can pay them to look the other way and allow us to handle this situation ourselves.

“Help me up,” I say as Free comes over and kneels to lift me to my feet. I sway back and forth as the pain radiates through my body.

“I didn’t see anyone,” he states as I nod my head.

“Shot me and took off. I didn’t see shit either,” I tell him. I lay my head back against the brick wall and close my eyes, trying to keep my head from spinning. I’m pretty sure I hit the motherfucker when I went down too.

“Ambulance is on the way,” Mask announces when I raise my hand and flip him off. I don’t need a damn ambulance. I need someone to stitch me up.

“Fuck the ambulance,” I grumble. Mask chuckles and shakes his head.

“You’re goin’ to the hospital, asshole. There’s no exit,” he nods toward my side. I shift on my feet and groan as the pain shoots through me. The fucking bullet is still in there. Great. Just what I needed.

“You want me to pull the feeds, Prez?” Van asks.

“Yeah. Do that while we wait out here,” Mask replies. Van smirks at me and walks away going inside to check the cameras to see what the hell happened.

I hear the sirens in the distance and listen as they get closer. I’m surprised they’d even come over here. The last time something happened here, not even the cops wanted to deal with it. They know who we are and what we do. They know what we could be up against.

The ambulance pulls up and I watch as they come toward me and get to work. I’m placed on the gurney as gauze or some shit is placed on my wound. The guy starts an IV and all that good shit before we ever leave the clubhouse.

“You see who did this?” he asks. I shake my head. Even if I did I wouldn’t be talking about it to him. Paramedics are like little birds who report back to the cops. They aren’t going to know shit about what happened. We’ll handle this on our own.

“Not a damn thing,” I tell him.

“Just snuck up on you?” he asks.

“Yeah. Came out of nowhere, shot me, and then ran,” I tell him. That’s all he’s going to get out of me.

The ride to the hospital is silent as he does what he needs to do and reports back to them. By the time we get there, I’m feeling like shit. I heard the rumble of the motorcycles behind me and knew the guys followed us here.

They pull me out of the ambulance and wheel me into the emergency room, where doctors and nurses await. They swarm around me, poking and shit. That’s when I spot her. I read her name tag as she hovers over me doing something. Feather. Who the hell names their kid Feather? Doesn’t matter to me. What does matter is the bruise she’s trying to disguise with makeup. I can spot that shit a mile away.

“Who hurt you?” I ask before she snaps her head back and looks at me. She plasters a fake smile on her face that I know isn’t real and shakes her head.

“You’re the patient. Who hurt you?”

“I don’t know. Didn’t see shit,” I tell her as they press on my stomach. I growl in pain as they get closer and closer to the wound.

“We’re going to get you fixed up,” she says with that smile plastered to her face. It’s so fucking fake. It makes me wonder if it’s one of these doctors in here. Slowly, I turn my head and look at them. It could be him. That one looks like an asshole. No. She wouldn’t show up to work with him after that.

I turn my head and look back at her. Feather. The girl has caught my attention now. The girl reminds me too much of my mother.

“You shouldn’t let men hurt you,” I tell her.

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