Page 99 of Never Trust the Living (Battle Crows MC 7)

CHAPTER 26

Welcome to adulthood. I hope you like ibuprofen.

-Haggard to Bram

HAGGARD

“Oh, holy fuck,” I heard myself say.

“It’s really bad,” Tide said, eyeing the photos. “I just wanted you to see her so you could gauge how to act. She’s not doing well at all.”

I swallowed hard.

“We gotta find this man,” I said. “For the things that he did to her.”

“Agreed,” Tide murmured, giving the phone to Shine, who blanched.

“Shit,” he whispered. “Is she… can she come back from all of that?”

Meaning, would she be able to live a normal life after having suffered so much damage?

“People come back from a lot of things,” Tide said. “The doctor that did this work is a phenomenon. She’s going to look just fine. She hid all the scars in her hairline from where her scalp was ripped from her head. The hand that they had to reconstruct with all the hardware… that one might be tricky. But all the nerves, blood supply, muscles and everything are still there. Hopefully they’ll be able to get that back to functioning. Everything else is just a whole lot of bluster. Broken leg willheal in six weeks. Abdomen, women heal from C-sections all the time.”

“That wasn’t a normal C-section,” Shine grumbled darkly.

“No, it sure the fuck was not.” Price handed my phone back to Tide.

Easton, who’d been the first to look at the photo, had a green tinge to his face.

“We got any leads?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “Got a name. An address, and everything else we could pull on him, thanks to your guys. I have a guy really good with computers on everything else from his end. All we need to do is find him.”

“Since he’s bomb happy.” Tide shoved his phone back into his pocket. “We need to be extremely careful about this.”

We did need to be careful.

And we would.

But we would locate him. We would bring him back to Texas. And he would be our newest ward of Hotel Crow.

CHAPTER 27

When I said I liked it rough, I didn’t mean my entire life.

-T-shirt

BRAM

“He’s gonna need to be here for about a week or so,” the nurse currently picking my child up said. “But we’d love to get him some skin-to-skin time.”

At first, I had no clue what that was.

Not until the nurse explained.

I swallowed hard past the lump in my chest at the sight of our baby hooked up to so many wires and tubes and pulled off my shirt.

The nurse handed me a warm blanket that she then helped drape behind my back, and I sat back in the chair that she’d pulled up to Harker’s bedside.

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