Page 38 of Break Away (Riot MC Next Generation #2)

Chapter twenty-three

Taken Away

Alexandra

The door to the room opened and I woke with a start, despising that I fell asleep. With effort, I forced myself to sit up from the beanbag, but I’d been right earlier: getting out of the thing was a trick.

Suarez entered the room and shut the door. My instincts were on high alert, though some part of me believed I had nothing to fear from him.

Even with my hands tied, I managed to unfold from the beanbag and stand.

“I don’t like men who rape women.”

Very slowly, I raised my chin and lowered it, fighting against my reflexive response that most people didn’t. Even if he wasn’t going to hurt me, he probably didn’t like smart-asses.

“Brantley has been taken away.”

“Okay,” I drawled. “Is that a euphemism?”

He stared at me in thought. “No. He’s been driven away from here.”

I turned my face a fraction of an inch. That statement oozed with feigned ignorance… And yet it would probably work during a police investigation.

“Why are you telling me that?” I asked.

“Do you want Porter taken away, too?”

“Like you care,” I blurted, inadvertently. “Sorry. I don’t mean any disrespect, that slipped.”

His lips tipped up and humor lit his eyes. “You’re funny. Did he hurt you?”

My lips pursed. “No. I was able to stop him both times.”

“Both?” he asked, one eyebrow arched.

We both jolted at the sound of the garage door opening. Suarez looked genuinely surprised by the sound. I jerked because I’d never heard such a screechy garage door.

After a deep breath, I turned back to Suarez. His eyes weren’t on me, they were aimed in the direction where the sound had originated.

He held up a finger. “Hold that thought.”

I nodded, but he’d turned and left the room.

The door didn’t quite catch, so I wasn’t locked in any more.

A bang sounded, and I realized it was a gunshot. A second shot rang out, then a third.

I pulled at the rope Nate had put around my wrists. It came free, and I whipped the door open.

I heard men yelling outside, and the rumble of footsteps coming toward me. A small bathroom was next to the room. I closed the bedroom door behind me, and quickly ducked into the small bathroom.

Once the sound of people running through the house subsided, I left the bathroom and headed toward a sliding glass door. It led out to a concrete slab that served as a patio. My plan to sneak around the backside of the house changed when I heard the men shouting about calling 911.

“Eightball, put your gun down!” someone yelled.

I edged toward the garage.

“Put pressure on his chest,” Nate shouted.

Peering around the corner of the house, I saw Digit standing close to Nate. There was someone on the ground between them.

“Why?” Digit asked.

“Because the cops are gonna assume we did this shit. Take your damned shirt off and put pressure on his chest,” Nate yelled.

I leaned forward to try and see who had been shot. Movement caught my eye, and I saw Porter rocking back and forth, holding his leg.

KC stood near him with a gun aimed at him. I couldn’t rush out from my hiding spot since I didn’t trust KC not to shoot me.

My mind raced. If Brantley had been taken somewhere, and Porter was shot…who was on the ground?

Porter kept rocking almost as if he was trying to scoot away. KC moved to the other side of Porter. Now that KC had his back to me, I hurried toward Nate’s car parked in the drive.

Multiple sirens wailed in the air.

Nate held his gun in one hand and his cell to his ear. He shifted as Suarez joined him, and I saw who lay on the ground.

The full beard, his well-trimmed brown hair, and the shock of colorful ink on his outstretched arm.

Rafferty.

No.

No!

A guttural sound burst from my lips, and I charged forward, yelling. No, screaming, but I didn't sound anything like myself.

In the same moment, a police cruiser swung into the drive at an angle, lights flashing.

I felt stinging pain in my knees after I hit the ground at his side. My vision blurred with tears as I put my hands on top of Digit’s. His hands felt warm, abnormally so. Then I noticed the stickiness from the blood.

“Don’t you go anywhere, Tee. I’m not gonna lose you. No way,” I said.

A man crouched down next to Digit. When Digit tried to move, I held tight to his fingers.

Another man squatted next to me. He spoke in a low, firm voice. “Let go. We’re going to get him to the hospital.”

In some corner of my mind, I realized he was a firefighter/EMT. More tears rushed down my cheeks and I stood.

Someone pulled me back.

I resisted, then lips came to my ear. “It’s me. I’ll get you to him,” Nate whispered.

His words calmed me by the most minuscule degree. That degree made a world of difference, though. It brought me back from the brink of my darkest thoughts.

Looking around, I saw two more EMTs were tending to Porter. Half a dozen police officers were on the scene, and had Suarez, Digit, and two other men I hadn’t met in handcuffs.

Before Nate could take his arm from around my shoulders, I turned an insistent look at him. “Can I go with him? Please.”

Nate blinked for a second. “I wish I could say yes, but I had to shoot Porter. Now that dumbass has to go to the hospital, and they’re gonna take them both in the same ambulance.” He shifted me so I faced him. “I will get you to the hospital. I promise.”

The last forty-five minutes, I had sat in the ER waiting room, feeling forlorn, angry, and useless.

Nate had told me to grab my backpack from his car, then he had a patrol officer drop me off at the hospital.

On the ride over, I’d called Blood to let him know what happened.

I wanted to call Trixie, but I didn’t trust myself to keep it together while talking to her.

And, I figured Blood would call Roll, who could handle Trixie far better.

My triple threat of feelings were a result of not being Rafferty’s next of kin.

I hadn’t played my cards very well when I asked about his condition.

If I’d been smarter, I’d have claimed to be his sister, cousin, anyone who was family.

But I hadn’t been thinking straight, and I blurted out the truth. We were dating.

The nurse behind the desk suddenly went all stringent and strict. Now she wouldn’t tell me anything about Rafferty’s condition.

I hung my head and said a silent prayer.

He had to be okay.

He had to be .

I couldn’t begin to fathom a world without him in it.

I stared out the window at the gathering dark clouds. It had to be almost five-thirty, which was when the summer thunderstorms rolled in this time of year.

“Alexandra!” Jasmine nearly yelled.

I turned and saw Rafferty’s sister rushing to me. By the time she reached me, I stood and hugged her. Over her shoulder, I saw Trixie and Roll go to the nurse’s desk.

“Oh my God, do you know anything?” Jasmine asked.

I shook my head and fought off tears. “No. They won’t tell me. I’m not…”

“You’re not what?”

“Family.”

Anger filled Jasmine’s expression and she turned her gaze to the desk.

“How did you get here so fast?” I asked.

Her brows furrowed. “It’s nearly six-thirty, Lex. It took us two hours to get here.”

I turned my phone over in my hand, and saw she was right.

“Come on, Mom’s waving us over,” Jasmine said.

The moment I drew even with Trixie, she pointed at me, but her eyes were on the nurse. “You see her? She’s my son’s woman. If she needs to know something about him, you tell her.”

“It doesn’t work like that—”

Trixie leaned forward. “She’s family. They’re gettin’ married. Is there any update on when he’s gettin’ out of surgery?”

The comment about us getting married took me aback. Then Rafferty’s voice played in my mind. ‘This accident opened my eyes.’

Him getting shot didn’t just open my eyes, it flung the doors open on my heart and mind like a horse breaking free from a barn.

“There should be an update any minute now. I’ll keep you posted,” the nurse said.

We trudged back to the bank of chairs where I’d been sitting.

Before I could sit down, Roll slung his arm along my shoulders. “Take a walk with me.”

“Oh, no. Whatever you’re gonna talk about I want to hear it,” Trixie said.

“No,” Roll said in an extremely firm tone.

I glanced up at him. “It’s okay—”

He shook his head, his shoulder-length hair swaying. “His mother doesn’t need to hear this.”

I shrugged. “There isn’t much to hear since I don’t know exactly what happened. I was in a room that was locked from the outside.”

“Excuse me,” Trixie said.

Roll’s lips pressed into a thin line before he blew out a defeated sigh. “That’s what I didn’t want them to hear.”

I quickly ran down the afternoon, and what I knew.

“Nate knows what happened, but he wasn’t able to leave the scene. My guess is that Porter shot Rafferty. Nate said he had to shoot Porter.”

‘Did Porter make it?” Trixie asked.

I shrugged. “Nate shot him in the leg. I think he’s okay, but I don’t give a damn about him.”

Jasmine patted the chair between her and Trixie. “Sit down.”

I settled in the seat. Jasmine rested her head on my shoulder and grabbed my hand.

Within half an hour, Beast, Tundra, Mom, Dad, Volt, and Aunt Jackie had arrived.

Even though their presence should have given me comfort, I forced myself to ignore the many people who were there.

It only reminded me that one gunshot wound to the chest posed a tough challenge to overcome.

Two gunshot wounds made that challenge almost insurmountable.

I couldn’t think that way. It didn’t serve any purpose.

I stared out a nearby window.

Warm hands hit my knees and I faced forward.

Razor squatted in front of me. “I told him not to hurt you, you know.”

I shot him a stern look. “ He didn’t do this to me. Someone else - very likely Porter - shot him, so really Porter’s the one who hurt me.”

Razor gave my knees a squeeze. “Yeah. You’re right. And logical, like your mom.”

I swallowed hard and gave a short head-shake.