Page 5 of Sinners MC: A MC Anthology

“The Fallen Angels have friends everywhere, and we don’t know which ones are on LB’s side.”

They made it to the highway without further confrontation. He got off and back on at one point, always watching the rearview to make sure they weren’t being followed. Once he was certain they were clear, he headed north. It was a long ride. He hoped LB could hold out.

The cabin was tucked away in the middle of the woods. There wasn’t another cabin around for five miles at least. They would be safe here. No one in the club knew about this place, not even LB.

Bonnie sounded completely exhausted. “Where are we?”

“My cabin. Don’t worry. The guys don’t know about this place. It’s my private retreat. How’s your dad?”

“Alive.”

“Let me unlock the door and I’ll come back to carry him in.”

She ran her fingers through her hair. She didn’t say anything. She nodded before laying her head against the back of the seat, closing her eyes. Her face was taut with worry and exhaustion. Unfortunately, there would be no rest yet. They had to patch LB up and figure out what’s next.

Once inside, Huffy pushed everything off the dining room table with one swoop of his arm. He ran to Bonnie where he left them, leaning on the door frame for support. Slipping his arm around LB, they maneuvered him to the table.

“He’s lost so much blood. I don’t know…I just don’t, Huffy.” Her voice was barely over a whisper.

He didn’t know how to respond. She was right, and he wouldn’t lie to her and say everything was going to be okay, because it wasn’t. No matter what happened with her dad, everything had changed. They had a bullseye on their back now.

Chapter Three

Bonnie

She couldn’t believe what was happening. Surely, she would wake up soon and find all of this to be a dream. She needed to focus. She had to change the bandages on her father. They were soaked through.

“Can you grab the big duffle bag from the back of my truck? I keep a second kit in there.”

Along with first aid supplies, it had a change of clothes, some cash, and her Ruger LCP. She wished she had something for an IV set up. She was stocked for an emergency until help could arrive. Not long-term care. She hurried to the sink. Wetting a paper towel, she returned to where her father lay in and out of consciousness. She squeezed the towel above his lips, allowing some water to enter his mouth. She massaged his throat to trigger him to swallow.

Pulling the gauze back, she checked his shoulder wounds. The Quikclot she poured on in the truck helped. It looked ugly and gnarled, but not as bad as his stomach. He must have a hell of a horseshoe up his ass. The bullet was a through and through in the lower left side. The blood loss was extensive, however not as bad as some she’d seen at the hospital.

She put fresh bandages on and checked his vitals. They were holding steady for now. Grabbing the pillow from the couch, she elevated her dad’s feet. There wasn’t much else she could do. The next twenty-four hours would be a waiting game. The sun was setting, and a chill seeped into the room. She looked around for the first time in search of a blanket for her father and herself if she could find one.

There was a beautiful stone fireplace between two large windows. She didn’t see any firewood. However, there was a wooden chest behind a straight back chair. She lifted the lid; a strong cedar scent perfumed the air. Inside were blankets. Flannel, crocheted, and quilted in all different patterns and colors. She covered her father with a flannel blanket and chose a quilted one for herself.

She sat on the couch, pulling out her phone. It was off, she remembered they needed it off, so they weren’t traced. Just great. How was she going to check in with her mom? News of the shooting must be all over the television by now. Her mother was surely worried. Huffy came through the door with an armful of firewood, startling her.

“Sorry, it gets pretty cold in here. I’ll have the fire going in a few minutes.” He put the firewood on the floor and began placing pieces in a pile to light.

“I found blankets. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course. Help yourself to whatever. I’m gonna change my shirt. I’ll be right out.”

He had blood all over the right side of his body. When he emerged from the bedroom, he had on a black t-shirt, the cut accentuating the muscles underneath.

“There’s a lot of canned food, bottled water, and a few things in the freezer. Are you hungry?”

Bonnie hadn’t eaten anything in a while. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, her appetite was running rampant.

“I could eat.”

She watched him open a cabinet, pulling out two cans. He retrieved a pot from the rack above the stove. He glanced over his shoulder at her father.

“Is he going to be okay?’

Bonnie wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, joining him in the small kitchenette.

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