AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It sucks. I could go on about how fucking cold it is, how the water tastes like muddy shit, and how I tore a nasty gash in my shin against who the fuck knows what, but by letting the current carry me when it’s strong, and swimming hard when it lets up, I finally manage to get to the bank probably a mile down from where I went in. I pull myself up through the rocks and mud like a fucking swamp monster. The muck on the bottom sucks at my feet, and I want to shower for a week.
A woman screams. She’s clutching her phone and holding the handle of a baby carriage. “D—Do you need help?”
I look down at myself in all my muddy glory and put a hand over my junk. “Your phone. I need to borrow it.”
Her eyes are as big as dinner plates. From the look on her face, she can’t quite decide how to feel about her view. I get it. I know what I've got. “You… you're?—”
“I fucking know, okay? This isn’t my best morning either. Just throw it over.”
She does, along with a travel pack of baby wipes.
I debate who to call. Eagle-eye or King—our VP—would make the most sense, but I gotta know.
“Who the fuck is this? If you have them, I’m gonna?—”
A breath I didn’t know I was holding, finally releases. “Mack, it’s me.”
23
SCRAPPER
“She's resting. I gave her something to help keep her quiet while the antibiotics kick in,” Doc says and closes the door to her quarters. Mila doesn't know it yet, but she's just moved in.
“She gonna be okay?” Mack's jaw works hard. He's frustrated that for once it's not something that he can solve with his muscles. I know the damn feeling.
“Should be. She’s lucky, all things considered. Her lungs don’t sound too bad. Emily's gonna check in on her a little later. As far as I can tell, though, all she needs is rest for now. The fever's broken, but she's exhausted.” He looks over at Reaper and snorts through his chalk white mustache and beard. “You’re lucky you aren’t in the same shape. There were some generous fucking angels sitting on your shoulders.”
Reaper chuckles darkly. “Didn’t have a whole lot of choice, did I?”
Doc nods grimly. “Show me your arm.”
“My shoulder feels fine. It’s sore, but nothing is grinding or stabbing. Should be okay.”
“It’s not that. Do you remember your last tetanus shot?”
Reaper looks over at me and Mack like we’d have the fucking answer.
“How the fuck would I know?”
Doc nods. “That’s what I figured.” He pulls a little vial and a needle out of his coat pocket. Before Reaper can object, Doc grabs his arm and jabs it right into his shoulder. “Fucking bikers. You’ll cut, pierce and ink anything, but you’re worried about a little shot.”
“I wasn’t worried,” Reaper grumbles, grabbing the tissue Doc holds out and pressing it against his arm.
“Mm hmm. Let me know if you start feeling anything. I’m sure you drank your share of that swill, too.” He looks at us, too. “Keep an eye on him. I fucking mean it.”
With a last glare to make sure that Reaper'll actually do what he's asked, Doc takes off, leaving the three of us. I know we all wanna be in there with her, but Reaper nods his head towards Mack's quarters, which are just across the hall from hers. “Let's talk without disturbing her.”
I take one end of Mack's couch, Reaper takes the other, and Mack takes a chair after getting us all beers from his fridge. “What's up?”
Reaper takes a long drag while he decides where to start. “I've done some thinking. Almost dying does something to a guy.”
I nod, remembering all too clearly what it it felt like to see Mack’s bike take a hit and be fucking convinced that was it for him. I wasn’t sure any of us were going to make it off that bridge alive, and we nearly didn’t. The only thing that saved us was that when we suddenly dropped back instead of trying to outrun them, the SUVs couldn’t exactly turn to follow. If they’d been less focused on Reaper and Mila, we wouldn’t be here.
Mack nods in agreement, his eyes and jaw hard, barely holding back emotion. “I’ve put way too much fucking work into your sorry ass to lose you. You got that?”
Reaper laughs it off, but we know him well enough to hear how much this has shaken him. His head drops and his shoulders collapse, like he's letting go for the first time since yesterday. “Jesus, you think I wasn’t worried? I had no way to know if you fuckers got away, or if you were just red smears on the highway. I had to hold it together for Mila, but the fucking sounds? The smell of burning tires and gas leaking?” The breath he draws is deep and shaky. “Let’s just say it’s not bringing up good memories.”
My chest is tight, too. Reaper and Mack have known each other for years, which gives them a different connection, but Mack and I have been in the Eagles longer. We had a couple years to develop our friendship before Reaper joined. When he showed up, it was like a piece clicked into place. The three of us are close in a way that I couldn't fucking explain if I tried. Losing him would have broken something in both of us. “We’ve got your back, you know that, right?”
