Page 117 of Patching Over

“Not a phone call I wanna make,” I admit.

“As long as she’s still breathing, there’s hope. Make the call.” His words break me out of my solemn mood, and I do as he instructed.

Since he’s an officer, I don’t hesitate to follow his mandate, pulling my phone out, and without hesitation, hitting Sleeper’s number.

“Tell me you’ve found her,” Sleeper growls out. I can hear the sound of other vehicles whizzing by and know he’s probably riding faster than he should, but who am I to tell him to slow the fuck down? If she were my sister, I’d be driving twice the listed speed limit too.

“I found her, Brother,” I reply, my voice hoarse, raw with emotion.

He must hear it in my tone because he asks, “H-h-how bad, Jingles? Just rip the fucking bandage off and lay it all out on the table.”

“Bad. She’s not conscious right now to tell us if it's more severe than what our eyes can see, and she has been beaten multiple times as far as I can tell. Scythe’s calling to see if Angel’s in town because he doesn’t think she’ll survive us moving her in her current condition, and we’re not willing to get the authorities involved for obvious reasons.”

“No, I agree. I’m going tokillthat motherfucker, Jingles. Y’all save that piece of shit for me,” he demands.

“Gonna need a piece too, Brother,” I admit. “Because nobody should go through the hell it looks like she’s endured.”

“Can… was… fuck it, can you tell if she was sexually assaulted, Brother? Just need to know whether to draw that fucker’s suffering out longer or not.”

“I think we might’ve interrupted that, Brother, but until she wakes up, we won’t know for sure,” I reply, gritting my teeth. “We’re going to clean her up while we wait for Angel. Bansheeand Phantom followed the van that took off speeding down the asphalt, nearly taking us out when we arrived.”

“Fuck, y’all were that close? Those pricks are going down.” I hear him take a deep breath then he continues. “Put the phone on speaker, Jingles, so I can talk to her.”

I do as he asks, setting the phone down on the cot next to her ear while I use the wipes that Scythe found to gently clean both the crusted and fresh blood from her face.

“Hey, Baby Belle, you sure know how to keep your big brother on his toes. In case you’ve forgotten, the long-haired guy currently taking care of you is my brother, Jingles. He’ll watch over you until I get there.” I hear as his voice cracks slightly, then he sighs. “I’m glad to be part of the brotherhood I’ve got, sis, because if not for a lot of my brothers pounding the pavement, I’m not sure if we’d have found you in time. I know I’ve kind of kept you away from the club, but I’m here to tell you now, that was a mistake. Most of them might be huge assholes, but all of them have been invested in helping me find you. Not just my chapter, either, Belle. Jingles is out of our Roanoke chapter, but you met him when you were just a kid. Granted, he wasn’t much more than one himself, at least compared to me. There are also brothers from Ankeny and Cedar Creek who’ve been helping and who will help you now that we’ve found you.”

I chuckle at his words even as a wince crosses my face when I see Scythe fashioning a sling of sorts for her shoulder. Right now, I’m glad as hell that she’s not awake, because I can smell the infection seeping from the wounds we found on her back, so I’m sure she’s in a shit ton of pain. Plus, her jaw’s broken, in at least one place that we can determine without any real medical expertise, and she’s got bruises that continue to darken the longer we sit here waiting for Brick to get here with Angel.

“Belle, I’m heading to the Roanoke clubhouse, and I’ll see you there. If you wake up before I get to you, just remember, I love you and it’s all going to be just fine. I promise.”

I take the phone off speaker and bring it back to my ear as Scythe tears the room apart looking for something to slide over her shredded clothes. “She won’t leave our sight, Brother, I promise,” I tell him. “Y’all just keep the wheels on the road, y’hear?”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear ya,” he retorts. “If she wakes up, Jingles, be sure she knows I’m on my way.”

“Absofuckinlutely,” I reply. “Sleep, she’s hurt pretty bad, but I think Angel should be able to help her. Maybe Moira as well.”

“Moira’s worse?” he asks.

I nod even though he can’t see me. “Yeah, Brother. They were using her as a plaything, apparently, but she was also beaten frequently.”

“Those fucking pussies,” he roars. “How can men who claim to be religious treat women in that manner?”

“Can’t answer that, Brother, because we don’t even treat our club girls like this,” I admit.

“You take care of Belle, I’ll see you when y’all get there.”

“Later, Sleeper.”

We wait for what feels like hours, but is in reality about forty-five minutes to an hour for Brick and Angel to arrive. When Brick finds us, his face blanches, and I briefly wonder if he’s remembering when Ryleigh was found and brought to the club.

“Y’all turn your backs,” Angel instructs, kneeling next to Belle who still hasn’t woken or moved an inch. I can feel the energy build in the room, and know Angel’s using his abilitiesto save her life right now. When Brick’s hand squeezes my shoulder, I realize I’m clenching my fists in preparation for her to cry out.

“Appreciate y’all hauling ass, Pres,” I murmur so as not to distract Angel.

“We brought a club vehicle with blankets and pillows, so we’ll be able to transport her as comfortably as possible,” he replies.

“Sleeper’s on his way to the clubhouse,” I tell him. Right now, I’m talking just to keep my mind off of what Belle’s going through.

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