Page 35 of Heat (The Royal HArlots MC, Quebec City-Canada #1)

Chapter Thirty-Four

Diamond pulled the burner from her pocket and stepped into the corner of the waiting room, away from the hum of vending machines and the low murmur of the nurses’ station.

She dialed Teller.

He answered on the first ring. “Talk.”

“It’s bad,” she said. “He’s in the ER. Unconscious. They’re doing a cat scan.”

A pause. Then, “Where?”

She gave him the name of the hospital.

“We’re on our way.”

That was it. No cursing. No questions. No blame. But she felt it anyway. Diamond stared at the phone for a second before stuffing it back into her jacket. She leaned against the wall, dragging a hand down her face. Great. Just great.

Soon, the emergency room would be crawling with Royal Bastards. Pissed-off bikers with patch pride and blood loyalty. All of them would be looking at her . Wondering why she let one of their own get hurt. Why she brought Sayer into something this dirty. This dangerous.

She never should’ve let him come.

But it was too late for regrets.

Now she just had to hold the line until they got there—and pray like hell that Sayer woke up before they did.

Diamond sank into one of the stiff plastic chairs in the waiting room, elbows on her knees, hands clasped so tightly her knuckles went white.

The buzz of fluorescent lights filled the silence, broken only by the occasional voice over the intercom or the rustle of paperwork behind the front desk.

No one looked at her. No one cared who she was or why she looked like she was ready to tear the place apart. Here, she was just another body waiting for news.

Her leg bounced.

She tried to stop it. Couldn’t.

She told herself Sayer would be fine. He was tough. Stubborn. A royal pain in the ass with a smile that didn’t know how to quit. He could take a hit.

But he looked bad in that truck. Like he was fading. And she couldn’t stop seeing that look in his eyes before he passed out—like he was trusting her to fix it.

Her throat tightened. She dropped her head into her hands. Come on, Sayer. Pull through. Don’t make me face your brothers without you, asshole.

Squeezing the phone between her hands, she knew she needed to call Nova. Sighing heavily she dialed the number to Nova’s burner phone and waited.

“Diamond.”

Tears welled up in her eyes hearing her best friend’s voice.

Knowing she could speak freely the words spilled out.

“We were jumped by Carla’s ex and his brother when we went back to the barn for the truck.

Sayer was hurt, I tended to his wounds but then…

I’m at the hospital, Sayer’s being checked out for a concussion.

He’s been unconscious since I cleaned his wounds. ”

“Where are you?”

Diamond gave Nova the hospital’s name and address, but when her veep said she and the Harlots were on their way she shut it down. “It’s bad enough the Bastards are on their way. We don’t need tempers flaring right now.”

“I can come alone,” Nova told Diamond.

“No. Stay there. We have to much at stake for our entire network to go down.”

Footsteps approached. Soft, quick. She lifted her head just as a nurse appeared, a tablet clutched in her hands and a careful expression on her face.

“Diamond?”

“Hold on Nova.” Diamond stood. “Yeah. That’s me.”

The nurse gave a small nod. “He’s stable. He regained consciousness a few minutes ago. Vitals look good. There’s some bruising, a mild concussion, fractured ribs… but no internal bleeding. No brain trauma.”

Diamond exhaled, sharp and shaky. Relief hit her like a freight train.

“He’s asking for you,” the nurse added gently.

That nearly brought her to her knees.

“Nova.”

“I heard the nurse. Call me back later.”

“Will do.”

Hanging up Diamond followed the nurse down the hallway, her boots echoing dully against the linoleum.

The buzz of the ER faded into the background, her focus narrowing with every step.

She didn’t care about the smells, the cold fluorescent lights, or the quiet murmur of voices behind closed curtains.

She just needed to see him.

They turned a corner, and the nurse gestured to one of the rooms.

“He’s in there,” she said softly, giving Diamond a small smile before stepping aside.

Diamond didn’t respond. Her hand was already on the door.

She pushed it open.

The room was dim, the monitor beside the bed beeping steadily. Sayer was propped up slightly, an IV in his arm, bandages peeking out from under his hospital gown. His face was pale, jaw bruised, but his eyes were open—tired, groggy, and focused on the ceiling.

Then they shifted. Met hers.

“Hey,” he rasped, voice rough.

Relief slammed into her so hard it nearly buckled her knees.

“Hey yourself,” she muttered, stepping inside and shutting the door behind her.

She crossed the room without hesitation and stopped beside the bed, eyes scanning every inch of him like she was counting damage.

“You look like shit,” she said, voice tight.

Sayer gave a weak smirk. “You should see the other guy.”

That did her in.

Everything hit her at once.

The tender moments. The stupid inside jokes. The heat of their last fight. The way his blood had soaked into her hands as she tried to patch him up. It all crashed over her in one tidal wave—undeniable, unrelenting.

Tears welled in her eyes, then spilled over, hot and fast. She swiped at them with the heel of her hand, angry at herself for breaking now, when he needed her steady.

And then his voice cut through the thick haze in her chest.

“Come here,” Sayer said softly. “Please. Because I can’t come to you.”

Her heart cracked.

She closed the gap between them in three steps, reaching for his hand without hesitation. The moment her fingers curled around his, something in her steadied.

His palm was warm. Alive.

That single touch grounded her more than anything else could.

Sayer’s thumb brushed gently over the back of her hand. “You stayed.”

She nodded, unable to speak. The lump in her throat was too big, too raw.

“Good,” he whispered, sinking back against the pillow with a faint smile. “Cause I’m not ready to let go of you yet.”