Page 21 of Steel Trap
“What?” Smith got closer to the phone.“Tell me.”
“He’s been shot. It’s a through and through according to Shelton but he’s lost a lot of blood. We’ve got no choice but to take him to the ER.”
“No!” Smith grabbed the phone. “Take him here.” He reeled off the name and address of a private clinic. “Just say Trap sent you when you arrive. I’ll meet you there. You’ll just draw the wrong kind of attention at the regular hospital.”
“We’llmeet you there, Teddy.” Adrian retrieved his phone from Smith’s shaking hands. “Go get in the cruiser, Smith. You can navigate.”
* * * *
The journey back into Phoenix was the longest of Smith’s life. He gave Adrian directions when he needed to but apart from that his mind conjured every horrific scenario possible regarding Hatchet’s injuries. He’d only just managed to connect withthe man and now he was at death’s door—at least that was what Smith had convinced himself of.
There was little traffic and Adrian made the trip in record time without having to use his blue lights, though he did bend the speed limit more than a little.
The Fairview Clinic was a low-rise, white painted building with a reception that wouldn’t have been out of place in a five-star hotel. Smithran from the cruiser, leaving his door open, straight in to calming classical music and sterile air.
“Nelson Hatchet, which room please?” He spoke even before he got to the desk. He was vaguely aware of Adrian’s uniformed presence at his shoulder.
“Mr. Hatchet is being assessed by the doctor, Mr. Smith. You can wait with his friends in the family room through the second set of double doors.”
Smith had no time for polite formalities. Doors slid open as he approached them and plush carpeting softened his steps as he half ran to the waiting area. When he got there he found a sea of denim and leather. The Wyverns had taken over the room and were lounging in a variety of poses across the furniture. Orlando, of course, was in Rogue’s lap. Artie and Bull had a set of playing cards out andwere involved in a tense game of something. Shelton had his eyes closed, Crow resting his arm around his shoulders. Teddy spotted Smith first and rose but then marched straight past him to give Adrian a brief kiss.
“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” Smith’s voice cracked, brittle with stress. If someone didn’t speak up he’d likely find a gun and start shooting.
Rogue removed a grumblingOrlando from his lap. He strolled over, appearing far too relaxed for Smith’s liking.
“He’s going to be fine.”
Smith’s knees made a brave attempt to keep him upright but failed. Rogue caught him before he could make a complete idiot of himself then led him to a chair.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. He’s lost some blood and he’s a rare type but they had stocks here.”
“They should. They know allof your blood types.” Smith knew he’d said too much. He hunched in his seat, elbows on knees, chin resting in his hands.
“And why would they have that information?”
“Does it matter?” Smith regained some composure. “Tell me how things went down tonight. How did Hatchet get himself shot?”
“Pretty sure he didn’t put the bullet through his own thigh,” Rogue drawled.
Orlando giggled. He sat onthe floor at Rogue’s feet, tapping his boots together. “He’s not the best shot so he could have done.”
Rogue gave him a light cuff. “He’s a great shot and you know it. We found him passed out. Managed to get him conscious enough to ride pillion. He wasn’t in much of a mood for talking, but he did say he’d blown his cover with the Mexicans and one of them gave him a parting gift.”
“Fuck. Didthey get away?”
“Camacho got away in a car. Hatchet wounded the other two. Cops picked them up.”
“And the factory?”
“Still burning when we left. We got everyone out and made sure the fire chief on the scene knew it was clear. He was most concerned about the propane tank storage area. Called in another company. Bull and Artie had already done what they needed to. The place is history.”
“Good.That’s…good.” Smith’s voice tailed off.
“Doc said he’d be back once he’d done an assessment of Hatch’s injury. He didn’t ask too many questions about why he had a bullet hole in him. Why is that, Smith?”
Smith was far more wary of Rogue when he was quiet and controlled. He was easier to deal with when he was making straightforward threats.
