Page 102 of Pieces of Heaven

He steps closer and holds my gaze. “I won’t blow smoke up your ass, okay? I don’t know who’s hurt or pinned down. I just know the club’s enemy has hit a bunch of people at once. Their women are safe at home, but you’re here. I’ve got orders to bring you to the hospital. That’s where Hobo will end up whether he’s hurt or not.”

Quana starts complaining about how this town is hellhole. Ignoring her, Glenn rests his hands on my shoulders and squeezes.

“Men like Hobo come with struggles,” he says in his reassuringly gruff voice. “This is one of them. Can you handle it, kid?”

My mind flashes with memories of the last few weeks. Hobo offered me the second chance I couldn’t find anywhere else. He loves me. I belong to him. If he’s hurt, he’ll need me close. Even if he’s unharmed, he’ll be rattled. I can’t hide in my head. I need to get moving.

“I’ll get my bag,” I tell Glenn who nods at how I’ve snapped out of my panic.

As I move to leave, Quana hurries after me. “What’s happening?”

“The man I love might be hurt. I’m going to the hospital. You can go back to your hotel.”

“No, I’m coming with you.”

I consider complaining. Quana doesn’t really care about me. She certainly won’t be kind to Hobo.

However, when Quana steadies her spine and gives Glenn a hard look, I know she won’t back down.

“Fine. Follow me,” I say and then look at Glenn. “I’ll follow you.”

The tornado warning fills the air for the entire drive. Glenn leads us through town toward the hospital servicing the entire county. Quana follows in her rental car. Every time I check the rearview, I see her flapping her lips, obviously complaining to her husband about the situation.

As we reach a spookily quiet downtown, Glenn leads us away from Main Street. My GPS tells me to take another route, but I assume he’s avoiding dangerous areas.

Soon, we pull into the hospital parking lot. Glenn leaves his rifle back in his truck but is still armed when we walk inside the hospital lobby. Security immediately stops him.

“This is Hobo’s woman,” he says and gestures at me. “I’m her escort. Do we have a problem?”

The armed men back off quickly. I often forget how the club is the main power player in the area. They seem like average people who like to party and ride motorcycles. Hobo keeps telling me how the club got their money and power through spilling blood, but I just can’t picture any of them as truly dangerous.

Today, my blinders are removed, and I see McMurdo Valley a little clearer.

The tornado warning shuts off as Quana and I sit in the lobby while Glenn texts someone. I watch the man, hoping he’ll have news. The town is still so new to me, and I can’t picture Hobo’s current situation.

“They’re starting to bring in the wounded,” Glenn whispers roughly. “More security is arriving here. Just get comfortable until we hear something.”

I check my phone to find a message from Irina.

“Eagle is with Hobo,” she tells me. “I’m locked down at the Rogers’s estate. Are you okay?”

I explain my situation. She hasn’t heard anything beyond the town is locked down, some people are hurt, and others are dead.

“Fiona’s father is calling for more security from out of town. I don’t know how long I’ll be here at the estate. Please let me know if you hear anything.”

Tears prick at my eyes as I feel Irina’s fear. Our men are somewhere together. That’s a good thing. They’re friends who’ve fought side by side before.

Those are all nice thoughts, but I don’t know what’s normal. How should I be reacting right now?

Next to me, Quana wants to speak up. Every time her mouth looks ready to start flapping, I lift my hand to silence her. Glenn checks his phone often, seeming to get messages from various people. He doesn’t say anything, though.

The quiet day outside the lobby disappears. Police and ambulance sirens fill the air followed by the roar of approaching motorcycles. I crane my neck to see out the tinted windows to the parking lot.

Several bikers soon hurry inside, filling the space and changing the mood. Blinking rapidly, I’m so nervous that I struggle to put names to faces.

Walla Walla is in the lead. His gaze washes over me and then Glenn. He nods like everything is okay. Behind him is a bloody Goose. Despite the scratches across her cheeks and bare arms, she seems fine. A limping Smokey is the third one through the door. He gives a frown to the security men before following after Walla Walla and Goose.

A minute later, another motorcycle arrives. Tomcat appears through the doors and starts to head where the others went. Spotting his father, he changes directions and walks to us.

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