Page 14 of Trigger

“Triage room four,” the doctor told me as the nurses quickly wheeled Chase away. “Come through this entrance. I’ll let the staff know to send you directly to his room.”

With that, he turned and headed back inside. I jumped back into the van and called Elias, one of the patched members of the Texas Charter. He answered on the third ring as I was backing the van into a parking stall. “Yeah?” he grunted, sounding half-asleep.

“I need you to come pick up this van.” I rattled off the color, make, and model as I got out. When I rounded the front, I gave him the license plate number. “Make it disappear.”

“Got it,” he answered. “I assume you have Chase? How is he?”

I sighed as I headed for the ambulatory doors, my feet quickly eating up the distance. I needed to get back to him. “Yeah, I’ve got him. He’s not good, but he’ll pull through, I think.” He had to. I couldn’t fathom a world where Chase didn’t exist. “I need to go.”

I hung up before he could respond and entered the hospital. Monitors were beeping. Codes were being called. There was a constant hum of people talking behind closed curtains. I spotted triage room four just as a nurse was making her way to me, but I bypassed her, completely ignoring her, and pushed open the door, thankful they’d given Chase a more private room.

“He’s had a lot of blood loss,” the doc immediately began as I stepped into the room. “He needs blood.”

“What’s his blood type?” I asked.

“O-positive,” one of the nurses answered. “But we have?—”

“I’m a match,” I told them as I dropped into the chair beside him. “Take from me.”

The next few hours passed by in a blur. After giving blood, I took a nap for a couple of hours, then washed up and changed into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt one of the nurses had brought me from lost and found. Chase was in a regular room now, still unconscious, but he was expected to make a full recovery. That announcement had damn near made me weak-kneed.

Once he was awake and could remain awake, I was under orders from Johnston to get him back home, where he could recover and be protected. The club was out for blood for what had happened to him, and once he was safe within clubhouse walls, I would be, too.

A CT scan showed a major concussion, and the doctor warned me he might have some memory loss. He had stress fractures in his ribs, thighs, and his knees. His throat would takea while to heal from all the screaming he’d done as well as the chains they’d used around his neck to keep him pinned to the table. They’d also had to reset his nose. His chest was a fucking mess; the Russians had cut their coat of arms into his flesh. The nurses had sewn it up, along with most of his other wounds, but they warned me his chest would scar.

Just as I’d assumed they’d wanted to happen. They wanted Chase to forever be a marked man, which could be a death sentence if the wrong people found out.

But the worst fucking news of all had been the rectal bleeding.

From beingraped.

It’d taken every bit of my restraint not to absolutely lose my shit. I should’ve taken my time killing those mother fuckers. I should have made it painful. If I could, I’d bring them back from the dead and torture every single one of them, fucking each of them up the ass with a goddamn baseball bat.

Chase should’ve never known that pain.

My phone vibrated in my lap, and I sighed, lifting it to answer Scorpion’s call.

“Yeah?” I grunted, running my eyes over Chase’s face. The medicine they were injecting through his IV kept him mostly painless, so he was at least getting some much-needed rest finally. I hated seeing him in pain. Hopefully, the club could get him something good once he was out of here so he could somewhat function normally until he was completely healed.

“Mark and Tango went in search of your bike and brought it back to the clubhouse. They found Chase’s bike there, too. It’s crumpled. I think he crashed.” I swallowed thickly. He could’ve fuckingdied. The mere thought made me physically ache with the phantom loss of him. “Mark and Reese will come pick you up when Chase can come home.”

“Thanks,” I muttered.

“Any updates?”

I sighed. “Nah. He’s stable, though. Gonna feel weak for a while. Got a lot of injuries. But a full recovery is expected.”

“Good,” Scorpion murmured. “Keep me updated.”

With that, he ended the call. Leaning forward, I gripped Chase’s hand in both of mine and pressed my forehead to his knuckles.

“I’m so goddamn sorry I didn’t find you sooner,” I rasped. That was a guilt that would sit on my shoulders for the rest of my fucking life.

I now knew how Chase felt when he’d found Sophia bloody, beaten, and naked on the floor of her store. When he hadn’t gotten to her in time.

Just like Chase always saw Sophia’s blood coating his hands, I’d forever see his on mine.

11

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