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“I don’t see the link between him sleepin’ around and finding him at death’s door.” Actually, now that I think of it, there are a few reasons one could lead to the other. “Unless he’s fuckin’ married women, then yeah, that would be bad.” I just can’t see him doing that.
“Nah, not that I know of. But he’s getting hotel rooms and either staying with townies or paying for prostitutes.” I rear back like he’s just slapped me. Not because I’m offended but because it’s so out of character for him.
“We’ve got a club full of women who would love nothing more than to get on their knees for him. What the fuck?” At my words, Hoops turns slowly, and just as he’s about to shed some light on this shitshow, Vanessa’s voice echoes down the hall.
“Where is he? Tell me where he is. I know you’re hiding him from me.” I frown, and when Hoops avoids all eye contact I realize she’s not kidding.
“Hoops?” I ask under my breath.
“Later.” I nod just as Vanessa rushes inside and stops dead in her tracks when her gaze lands on Shade.
“What happened?”
It’s not my place to answer. This is the president’s job, but I stay so he knows I’ve got his back.
“He was attacked.”
“When? He’s been gone the whole week.” As she speaks, her tone rises and her feet take her closer to the bed. She and Shade are close. As Prez’s best friend, Shade was always the third wheel and from my vantage point, he seemed happy there. Except, now I’m reconsidering this whole scenario.
“We don’t know. The wounds weren’t superficial but they didn’t hit any vital organs so he didn’t bleed out. Still, I’m guessing it happened sometime yesterday.” Leaning against the wall, Hoops doesn’t look away from Vanessa.
“Who did this?” With clenched teeth, Vanessa steps closer still to Shade and reaches out her hand to take his, wrapping her fingers around his and sitting on the nearest chair. “Why?” The strength she showed just minutes ago falters as a single tear falls down her cheek.
“We don’t know. Right now, we don’t know anything, but I promise you, we’ll find out and they’ll pay for this.” Hoops stands, as if doing so gives his promise more weight. Maybe it does.
“Is he going to be okay?” Her words are so soft, I barely catch the hitch in them.
“We’ll know once he wakes up,” Hoops answers just as softly, and it feels like we’re in a church, a sacred place, where raised voices are a sacrilege.
I don’t know how long we stay there, waiting, hoping, thinking of all the things we could have done better. With my head leaning against the wall, I close my eyes and feel myself drift away until something wakes me.
No, not something… someone.
“Y’all can stop mourning, I’m fine.” It takes us a second, but as soon as Shade’s voice registers, Hoops and I are both at his bedside and Vanessa is standing over him, searching his face as he tries to open his eyes. One of them is swollen and the other is struggling. I wouldn’t be surprised if we were all holding our breaths. I know I am.
As soon as we see the blue of his eyes, we take a collective breath of relief, Vanessa letting a small sob escape.
“You asshole! You scared us.” Well, damn. Vanessa must be pissed to be cursing at him, then again, I’m about to do worse.
“What the fuck, Shade? What happened?” Okay, so maybe that was a little louder than I’d anticipated but I can’t help myself; a hurt brother is a hurt club.
“I got into a scuffle is all. No big deal.” I’m gonna punch him for being so nonchalant about this shit.
“Yeah, tell that to the stab wounds and the big ol’ golf ball on the side of your head, you fuckin’ knucklehead.” I chuckle at Hoops as he tries to scold Shade, but the relief is so fucking palpable it sounds more like a joke than anything else.
While they talk, I take out my phone and send a quick message in our group chat.
Me: He’s awake.
Grinder: Fuckin’ A.
Psycho: On our way.
Boner: Send a truck, these two are fucking loaded.
Of course they are.
Kincaid: Copy that, we’re on our way.