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CHAPTER TWELVE: CICELY

I ignore Chrome as he questions Gray about the attack on his friend. However, the intensity of his questions has me glancing at him. He’s standing just inside the door, rigid with tension.

“Can’t you give me some idea of the timing of his attack?” Chrome demands. “It’s important.”

“Blue was testing a bike at the track,” Gray says. “He typically runs the track fifty times to get a feel for performance. He works on the bike between tests. He’ll spend two to four hours, depending on how the tests pan out. So, it’s impossible to know when he left the track.”

“Shit,” Chrome grumbles as he runs his hand through his hair.

“Why is it important?” I ask, forgetting that I’m ignoring him.

Chrome glances at me but doesn’t respond. His lack of response reignites my anger.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” I tell him. “You shouldn’t be in the ICU. Mode already has the maximum number of visitors,” I snap when I see Eagle and another biker standing in the hallway behind Chrome.

“Cicely, this is important,” Chrome tells me.

“Why?”

“Because I believe your patient had a run-in with the same guys who attacked Scorch and Trigger.”

Chrome pulls something out of the front pocket of his jeans and hands it to Gray. “Does this look familiar?”

Gray takes the small piece of plastic and turns it over. “Yeah, it’s a piece of Blue’s helmet. That’s our design.”

“Your design?” the second biker asks, coming into the room and taking the item from Gray. I can see his kutte with the name ‘Byte’ sewn onto the front. “Stormy Skies?”

“Yeah, that’s our brand,” Gray says.

“Best fucking racing bikes ever made,” Byte says, handing the piece back. “Was your friend on a bike that night?” Byte nods at the comatose Blue lying in the bed.

“Yeah, he was.”

“No one has turned in the bike,” Byte states. But Gray takes it as a question.

“No. The guy who found Blue on the side of the road said there wasn’t a bike. I believed him. He seemed like the honest sort. He drives a minivan with two car seats in the back, and he’s an accountant with a firm whose name I recognized. We researched them when looking for a firm to handle our business. We didn’t go with them, but we might switch now since he saved Blue’s life.”

“Does this track have employees? Is there anyone who can tell you when Blue left? What about cameras or nearby businesses? Give me the address, and I can check the traffic cams,” Byte offers.

Gray blinks at him. “You can access the traffic cams?” he asks. Byte taps on the 1% patch on his kutte.

Gray rattles off the address while taking out his phone. “I’ll call and see if anyone saw him that night. You think knowing when he left will help you find the person who attacked your friends or find Blue’s bike?”

“Maybe both,” Chrome says.

I leave the room to check on Jane Doe, who remains unconscious, which is a blessing for her. The longer she can rest, the more she’ll heal. The pain she’ll face when she finally wakes makes me sad. After removing the bandages from her hands, I apply the antibiotic ointment and fresh bandages. I check her other wounds, including her gums, even though she has already stopped bleeding from where the assholes yanked out her teeth. After giving her a sponge bath, I double-check her IV and medications before depositing items in the medical waste container.

Looking at my patient, I feel sad to leave her alone. Mode has his club brothers, and Mr. Michaelson has his business partner. But Jane Doe has no one. I still need to check on Mode, but I plan to return and talk or read to her. Stepping out of her room, I find Chrome and the unfamiliar biker.

“What do you need Chrome?” I ask, trying my best to keep my tone neutral.

“Wanted to introduce you to Byte,” Chrome says. “Byte’s a member of the San Diego chapter. He’s their tech guy. He’s here to guard Mode and help us out. Byte, this is Cicely.”

I smile at the man and shake his hand. When he returns to Mode’s room, but Chrome stays with me, I raise my eyebrow in question.

“I wanted to apologize…” Chrome starts, but I raise my hand to stop him.

“No need. I get it,” I tell him, turning my attention to the computer.

Chrome reaches around and pulls me until I’m facing him. “Yes, I do. I shouldn’t have left like that.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because I shouldn’t have been there,” he admits, which cuts deep.

“Right,” I snap, shrugging out of his grasp. “Glad we cleared that up.”

“Cicely…” he starts, but I hold my hand up to stop him.

“Don’t. Just don’t. I can’t take it. Stay out of my life until you figure out what you want,” I tell him. I ignore him until he disappears into Mode’s room.

Shoving my emotions down deep, I focus on my work. I can hear Chrome and his men speaking. At first, I consider tuning them out, but I can’t do it.

“Are you going back to the location?” Eagle asks.

“I want to talk to Scorch. See if he remembers anything more about that night. Plus, I want to look at the SUV. Something bugs me about finding that piece of helmet off Blue’s bike,” Chrome replies.

“You think someone planted it there?” Byte asks. His tone tells me that he disagrees with that idea.

Chrome scoffs. “No, but I can’t fit it into the scenario playing in my head. If Blue Michaelson came upon Fenhua’s men attacking Scorch and Trigger, why didn’t we find him unconscious next to my men?”

“You said someone stole his bike. Maybe they moved him further away to keep anyone from finding him? Or maybe his attack has nothing to do with what happened to Scorch and Trigger?” Byte asks.

“I find that hard to believe. Two attacks on that same stretch of highway?” Chrome says. “You saw it. There’s nothing there. No reason for Blue to pull over unless he saw something.”

“You’re thinking he saw the attack on your men and pulled over to help?”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking.”

Even though I want to avoid Chrome, I still have my job to do. Entering Mode’s room, I review my checklist while ignoring the three men. When I replace the gauze on his skull, I’m happy to see the wound healing nicely. The stitches aren’t coming out soon, but the skin is no longer puffy. His temperature is normal, so he’s not fighting an infection.

“How is he doing?” Chrome asks from behind me.

“He’s healing. I don’t see any sign of infection,” I tell him before replacing the empty IV bag and checking his catheter bag. After replacing it, I returned to my station to update his file.

It’s coming up on lunchtime when Gray comes out of Mr. Michaelson’s room.

“Leaving?” I ask him.

“Not yet, just going down for a cup of coffee. Can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you. I have a meal break coming up. I’ll get something then.”

I take advantage of Gray’s absence to adjust Mr. Michaelson’s position. It isn’t good for patients to lie in one position for too long. Before repositioning his arms, I shift the wedges from the left to the right hip. I glance up to ensure I haven’t jostled his feeding tube when I see why Gary calls him Blue. The most electrifying set of blue eyes is watching me in confusion.

“Well, hello there, Mr. Michaelson. It’s about time you woke up,” I tell him. “Here, let me take care of that.” I grab his hand as he reaches for the breathing tube. I carefully remove it before reaching for the call button to page Dr. Kemper. “The doctor will be with you shortly. Would you like some water?” At Mr. Michaelson’s nod, I pour water into a cup and add a straw before holding it to his lips. He takes three sips before laying his head back against the pillows.

“Where am I?”

“Insight Hospital. I’m your care nurse, Cicely. Your friend Gray just went downstairs for coffee and will return soon.”

“What happened to me?” He lifts his hand and studies the lines feeding fluids into his system.

“No one knows for certain,” I tell him. “A Good Samaritan found you on the side of the highway and made sure you got care. You’ve been here for a couple of days.”

“Blue!” Gray calls out from the door. He rushes inside and drops his coffee on the table beside the bed. “You’re awake!”

“He just woke up,” I tell him. “The doctor is on his way.”

“What the hell happened?” Blue asks. “Was I in an accident?”

“We don’t think so,” Gray tells him. “You’d been working at the racetrack. I talked to the security guard, who said you left when it got dark. We don’t know what happened after that.”

“My bike?”

“Unknown. You don’t remember anything?”

“I remember being at the track and working on the bike. I had a date, so I was on my way home to take a shower and change. I was on the highway.”

“Yeah, that’s where he found you.”

“Who?”

“Some Good Samaritan accountant. Saw you on the side of the road and stopped. He brought you here.”

“He didn’t see my bike?”

“Nope. I talked to him and checked the spot, but I saw nothing. No skid marks or signs of a crash. Although two bikers found a piece of your helmet.”

“Bikers?” Blue asks, his eyes going wide. “Demon Dawgs. That’s who I saw. I pulled over because I recognized their kuttes. They were standing on the side of the road. When I stopped, they turned around, and that’s the last thing I remember.”

“What the fuck did you just say?” comes a voice behind me. I see Chrome standing inside the door—Byte and Eagle behind him.