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CHAPTER FIVE: CHROME

As Stitch preps Mode for transporting to the hospital, I step out the door and call for Piston to help.

“What do you need, Prez?” Piston asks.

“We’re taking Mode to the hospital. Can you help Stitch load him into the SUV?”

“Sure thing.”

Between them, they shift Mode from the bed onto the gurney. They carry him down the stairs and outside to the waiting SUV. Padre, Stone, and Eagle pile into the SUV as Stitch finishes loading Mode into the back. Before I slide behind the wheel, the gates open to let Torque, Mac, and Scorch ride through. They disembark from their bikes and stride over.

“What’s going on?” Scorch asks.

“Taking Mode to the hospital. He needs more help than we can provide him here,” I respond.

“Will he be safe there?” Mac asks.

I nod at the men inside the SUV. “The Nomads arrived today. They offered to guard Mode while we look for Jordan. Byte’s coming in tomorrow to cover for Mode.”

“We should be the ones guarding him,” Scorch says.

“Yeah, we should be, but we have work to do,” I reply. “We need to find Jordan, and we need to figure out who the fuck attacked Mode.” The rat who has betrayed our club.

“Where are you taking him?” Torque asks, but I slam the car door shut without answering. I don’t want anyone but the Nomads and Byte to know where to find Mode. Keeping secrets from my men doesn’t sit well with me. I tighten my grip on the steering wheel as the anger flows through me. How the hell did we get to this point? A week ago, I trusted every man in the clubhouse. I’m keeping secrets from them because I don’t know which of them I can no longer trust. I bang my fist on the steering wheel.

“We’ll figure it out,” Eagle says. “You have a solid club. One fucking traitor doesn’t change it. Once we identify who it is, we’ll permanently cut him out, and you’ll return to normal.”

I grunt because I don’t want to voice my concern. Will we be able to return to normal? Maybe if I learn why a brother betrayed us. Maybe knowing will help me stop it from happening again. It isn’t like this was the first time the Demon Dawgs faced the enemy from within.

When Dale was President, trust was hard to find. Dale’s father, Dusty, started the original club in the fifties. Dusty was a brilliant and resourceful fucker. He started the club in San Diego because he owned a great plot of land there and because it was close to the Mexico border. He wanted to make a fast buck, and smuggling heroin was how he did it. Dusty had the Midas touch when finding profitable businesses, most of which were illegal. As soon as the heroin pipeline was in full swing, he met a counterfeiter looking for a way to wash his product. Dusty used his money from the heroin trade to spread chapters of the Demon Dawgs throughout the country. Every club started small with very few members. Still, the amount of money they earned from dealing in heroin and washing counterfeit money attracted members quickly until the Demon Dawgs rivaled some of the bigger clubs. Dusty made sure to steer clear of the other clubs, not wanting to waste time by fighting over territory. Dusty didn’t care how the club made money, but he had rules—no hurting women and children. When Dale took over, he expanded the pipeline to include cocaine and gun running. Dale put a crack in the foundation when he shifted to human trafficking. Not only because it went against our club’s basic tenet, but because he worked in secret.

Dale knew most members would disapprove of selling women and children, so he carefully selected his allies for this particular endeavor. He didn’t restrict the business to San Diego but involved members from other clubs. He found other men lacking in morals with whom to join forces. Secrets are corrosive. Distrust spread through the clubs like black rot. Members sensed they couldn’t trust other members. I doubt the Demon Dawgs would have survived if Dale hadn't died when he did. Dante shone a light on the rot and burned it out.

Now, I’m dealing with something similar—a traitor in my club. Traitors destroy trust. They destroy clubs. I’ll be damned if I let a traitor ruin my club!

As I park outside the ER, I know my focus should be on Mode, but I find myself scanning the area. I’m looking for bikes to see if any club members followed us. I curse when I realize what I’m doing. If someone outside the club attacked Mode, I’d be proud to see the parking lot full of bikes as we gather around our fallen brother. But since it wasn’t a stranger who attacked him, I’m expecting to see his attacker following us so he can discover Mode’s location and finish him off.

Padre rushes inside before returning with two orderlies pushing a gurney. They transfer Mode onto the gurney and rush back inside. Padre and Stone follow them, leaving Eagle and me to head to admissions.

“We need the doctors to check out our friend,” Eagle explains to the nurse. The guard sitting next to her gives us the beady eye.

“What happened?” the nurse asks.

“Not sure. We found him unconscious. Our medic suggested bringing him here.”

The nurse looks unconvinced, but she doesn’t push for more information. Instead, she shoves a clipboard into my hands. “Fill out these forms.”

I take the clipboard and find a seat in the waiting room. After filling out the information, I take it back to the nurse. She smiles and reviews it. “Thank you. If you sit in the waiting room, someone will be out to speak with you as soon as they know something.”

Several hours later, a doctor finally comes out.

“Family of Shane MacLeod?”

“That’s us,” I say, standing to meet him.

He gives us a skeptical look, but he shrugs tiredly. “He’s stable. However, there is some minor swelling on the brain. We’re moving him into the ICU for close neuro monitoring.”

I nod. “What are his chances?”

“He’s strong and healthy. It’s a good thing you brought him when you did. We’ve got him stable. He needs time to heal.”

“Okay. Thank you.” I shake the doctor’s hand.

“We’re moving him up to the ICU now. He can have visitors. Only two at a time. Visiting hours are between ten and twelve and then again from five to seven.”

When the doctor leaves us, I turn to the Nomads. “I’m going to find the hospital administrator and see about breaking the rules.”

Returning to the nurse I spoke with earlier, I asked for directions.

“Want us to come with?” Eagle asks.

I shake my head. “No, I can handle it. Bribe or threats. Whatever it takes.”

I take the elevator to the sixth floor and follow the directions until I find the office. Opening the door, I find myself in a small windowless office. It’s empty except for a simple desk with a rolling chair. A computer and a phone sit on the desk. Finding it hard to believe that this is the office of the person who runs the hospital, I move across the room and through the second door. Inside, I find what I initially expected. The corner room has windows on two sides. One has a magnificent view of the Chicago skyline. The other covers the parking lot and the length of the hospital's roof below. A bookcase fills the wall to the right. Inside is an eclectic collection of books, manuals, and boxes, along with various awards made of glass and gold. The effect is one of order and precision. I would place bets that everything is in its proper place with no speck of dust to mar the perfection.

The L-shaped desk looks like something you’d find in a CEO's office. The rich, carved wood is the color of honey. The woman behind the desk is just as stylish as her office. She’s pulled her soft brown hair into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. A crisp white shirt peeks out from under a fitted dark grey jacket. When she senses me, she glances up with soft blue eyes hidden behind glasses.

“May I help you?” she asks. Her eyes spark with interest as they take in my kutte before traveling down my body and back up.

“I hope so. I’m Chrome, the President of the Demon Dawgs. We just brought in one of my men. Someone attacked him. I want to put guards on him to keep him safe.”

She leans back and continues to study me. “The Demon Dawgs. I’ve heard of you. We don’t want any trouble…”

“I’m not bringing trouble, but I’m asking for help. I want to protect my brother. Whoever attacked him doesn’t know he’s here. They won’t find him. Not if I have a say in it. But he’s in the ICU and he’s unconscious. Please don’t insist that I leave him unprotected. We won’t get in the way or cause any trouble.”

She swivels in her chair and nibbles on the tip of her eyeglasses. “I heard a rumor about your club. I’d like to know if it is true.”

I nod for her to continue.

“There was a young man who rescued his sister from a predatory priest. For his heroic deed, several church members attacked him. The Demon Dawgs stepped in and rescued him. Is that true?”

I nod slowly. “He’s under our protection.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear it. I like Sammy.”

“You know Sammy?”

“I do. I also know his sister, Jessica. She was best friends with my daughter, Margo. For their sake, I agree to let you place guards in your man’s room.”

“Thanks,” I tell her. I was expecting a fight or the need to hand over some funds. “Appreciate it.”

“Tell Sammy that Lisa and Margo Kemper say hi and that he should ask if he ever needs anything.”

After leaving her office, I returned to the ER to find everyone gone. I ask the nurse, who informs me that Mode had moved into the ICU and that I would find the others there.

The nurse who lets me into the ICU leads me to Mode. Before stepping inside, I hear Eagle demanding to know someone’s identity. He sounds angry and accusatory. I don’t know who he’s talking to until that person responds. The sound of fear in Cicely’s voice makes me see red as I barge into the room.

“A friend of the club,” I growl.