Page 24 of Riding the Line (Steel Saints MC #1)
Dalton and Maria started protesting at once, and the poor nurse stepped back.
Clearly, she wasn’t prepared for the combined onslaught of a six-foot-tall biker and a small Latina mom.
I didn’t blame her. Holly was still glued to Jackson’s side, and he had his arm protectively around her in a way that hurt me physically.
When she stepped towards the nurse, the woman gave her a wary look.
The poor lady was probably overworked, underpaid, and exhausted.
I knew it all too well—my mom had been a nurse before she met my dad.
Holly silenced Maria with a hand on her friend’s arm and Dalton with a look. She had become the picture of calm, taking control while the rest of us searched for a foothold.
“Listen, ma’am. We’re not trying to be rude. But our friend was just brought in with a stab wound—”
“Three.”
All eyes turned to me, and I cleared my throat awkwardly. “She was stabbed three times.” I didn’t mention all the tiny cuts—the wounds I felt as clearly as if they were my own.
Maria started crying again, and Holly’s voice shook a little when she corrected herself, “Our friend was brought in with three stab wounds. We just want an update before leaving.” The nurse hesitated, and Holly continued, pointing at me.
“The pediatric wing at this hospital was named after his mother, and paid for by me. I don’t like throwing our weight around, but damnit, just let us stay here until we know what happened.
That girl…” her voice cracked again, “she means a lot to all of us.”
Sometimes, it was easy to forget that Holly was rich, but I would be more than grateful if it had helped us gain a little favor.
The nurse looked between our small group, taking in our miserable expressions.
Dalton was hunched over next to me like he could curl in on himself and make the pain stop.
I guessed yelling at the nurse took the last little bit of fight out of him, and to be honest, I wasn’t feeling like much of a hotshot myself.
Finally, the nurse sighed. “Okay, but you can’t wait here. This area is for visitors, during the day. And for emergency room patients. The lobby on the main floor, next to the gift shop, is open all hours. You’re welcome to wait there.”
About three hours later, a doctor came down to find us and a few other Saints scattered around the lobby. We all stood when he approached, his face grim.
“I’m told that you folks would like an update on… I’m sorry. She didn’t have ID on her. Are you family?”
Holly shook her head. “Her name is Nicky. And we’re the only family she’s got.”
The doctor seemed to consider this and then said, “Alright, I’ll do my best to explain everything—perhaps you would like to sit down?
” When none of us moved, he pressed on. “Your friend suffered extensive trauma to her pectineus muscle,” he said, pointing to a spot on his inner thigh, “and her deltoid.” He indicated a place on his shoulder.
“Muscular damage such as this, while obviously not desirable, is reparable. The wound on her upper abdomen was our main cause for concern. We performed a CT scan which confirmed internal bleeding. The knife entered through the upper abdomen, just beneath the ribcage, penetrating her liver and gallbladder. The damage to her liver was extensive.” He paused.
“She went into cardiac arrest during surgery due to blood loss, but we were able to resuscitate her.”
Maria ran over to a nearby trash can and threw up, and Holly was deathly pale.
Dalton’s breath came hard and fast, and I felt like I had been hit by a truck which had backed up and run me over again, just for good measure.
Maria rejoined the group, looking green, and Holly embraced her.
They stood there, clinging to each other for support.
Dalton finally broke the silence. “So, she’s going to be okay?”
The doctor hesitated. “Unfortunately, that is up to her. She also had a partial shoulder subluxation, meaning her shoulder was just barely in her socket. A concussion, and then there’s the bite wounds.
We’ve done all we can for now. Her liver has been repaired, but we had to remove her gallbladder entirely.
Her shoulder has been put back into place, and she is on medication as a precaution against brain bleeds and swelling, as well as to reduce any fever or infection. I wish I could tell you more.”
After speaking with the doctor, Maria begged to see Nicky, but her pleas fell on deaf ears.
A few people left after we had gotten the update, but several of us stayed.
We looked like one sorry bunch. Jackson sat on a bench, and Holly curled beside him, resting her head on his lap.
When he leaned down and whispered something in her ear, she turned her face until it was hidden from view, but her body shook with silent sobs.
Maria stepped away to call Diego, and I heard him tell her that his mother was on the way to watch the kids, and he would be there as soon as he could. Dalton and I sat in one of the many small and uncomfortable plastic chairs, and neither of us said a word.
Maria came over and sat next to me. “Diego is going to bring you a shirt. She’ll be okay.”
I hadn’t even noticed the blood covering me. Her blood. I just nodded my thanks, but all I could think about was how I never had the guts to tell her how I felt.