Page 112 of Relentles
The slow-moving pendulum grated on Rebel. The entire family arrived at the hospital early this morning while Jo underwent her life-saving surgery. Even Uncle Sloane, Aunt Georgie, Bryn and Chance had flown in. Security was extra tight.
Dweller brothers and Uncle Sloane’s bodyguards milled the floor and guarded the elevators. Club members and their old ladies, Derby, Gypsy, Boy, Danicka, and members of theirrespective clubs, the Burning Hounds and the Night Flyers, were also there. Surprisingly, while most of the club brothers guarded the floors or went to the cafeteria, Derby and Boy stayed with her parents. Lolly’s in-laws and the Reddings sat in the waiting room, too.
Uncle Johnnie watched Dad carefully. In turn, Rebel studied that underhanded motherfucker closely. She’d find a way to get her fucking revenge.
Daddy might’ve lost his fucking mind, but she hadn’t.
CJ walked back and forth, between the waiting room and wherever Molly was, since she’d been brought here at Ryan’s pleading. Of course, that little asshole hadn’t shown his wretched face.
Speaking of wretched, Axel, Ransom, and Ryder sat quietly for once. They might’ve been exchanging gestures of the devil to plan the destruction of the world. Who knew?
Daddy paced, his expression closed. Mom sat in a chair as pale and as still as a marble statue.
Tick. Tock.
The clock seemed to have slowed, taken on the pace of doom, ticking toward an unwanted outcome.
Rebel hoped only anxiety heralded that idea and not that her little sister was dead. Nausea twisted in her. Dread poured through her body like molten lava, hot and unwanted, leaving her trembling in its wake.
Rule took her cold hand into his. Hours ago, he’d parked himself next to her and hadn’t moved.
“She’s going to be fine, Reb,” he whispered, not moving away when she laid her head on his shoulder.
“You can’t be sure of that.”
“I can. I am. Pray. Believe. Trust.”
She almost sagged at his normalcy.
“They’ve told me. I’ve talked to them. She’s fine. I’ll sacrifice five squirrels and forty birds if I must,” he added, fucking up her short-lived relief.
No one heard him. He still spoke in low tones.
“How many have you already fucked up?” she asked, her volume the same as his. She searched her mind, trying to recall if and when Rule left the house.
“Two squirrels. Yesterday. Jo’s so small I didn’t think I needed more.”
Rebel released a shaky breath.
“How are you holding up, sweetheart?” Diesel asked, sitting on her side, a big, muscular wall of comfort. He squeezed her knee. “Do you want to go to the cafeteria and eat? I’m about to lose my fucking mind waiting for news.”
Unable to drum up any excitement at Diesel’s invitation, Rebel fought back tears. “My stomach is in knots. I can’t eat, Dee.”
“I’m hungry,” Grant said, sitting directly across from her. “You can get a soda, while Diesel and I find food.”
“They’re right, Reb,” the squirrel killer said, releasing her hand.
Sighing, Rebel got to her feet. They didn’t intend to leave her alone. She either had to go or scream.
“Anyone else want to go to the cafeteria?” she asked, glancing at Brynn, who sat next to Grant and Mattie who sat next to Brynn.
“Where’s CJ?” Harley asked. “And Lolly?”
“They are with Molly,” Pop said simply.
Harley glanced away. “I’m not hungry.”
In the end, only Diesel, Grant, and Rebel went to the cafeteria. Normally, it was bursting with strangers, visitors, day patients, and medical staff. Today, brothers from the Dwellers, Hounds, Night Flyers, the Scorched Devils, and a fewother support clubs packed the place. Uncle Sloane’s personal protection team members stood out like a sore thumb with their dark suits and earpieces.
