Flint

I stand outside the ER, waiting for my woman. Gunner’s call was a punch in the gut like I never experienced, not even when my ex packed it in; there are the hits you see coming and the ones you don’t, this was the latter. I know what a machine Gunner can be in a bad situation and am grateful he was there for Bree.

Watching the ambulance pull up and unload, I only get a quick glimpse of her before they’re through the “Do Not Pass” doors. I head straight to the nurse’s desk and start the argument of how I’m Bree’s partner. Her man, just anything I can think of to give me rights to be updated and to see her. The nurse finally throws out the term Domestic Partner and I grab onto that like a lifeline.

“Yes, we live together.” She doesn’t look like she believes me, but she’s eyed my cut a couple times and finally adds me to a list. Bree is currently living at my home, so I supply that address, her place of employment, coming up short when it comes to her birthday and insurance information. Luckily the Sheriff arrives and immediately backs up my claim. Another hat tip to Gunner for that small courtesy from the Sheriff.

During the next four hours, Jasper becomes a father. Christopher and Ruth Anders are born healthy to an exhausted Emma, and Jas is the most excited I’ve ever seen him.

The kid deserves this time so I don’t mention Bree, but he’s been around me most of his life and as usual; he never misses much. He not only reads me but notices the looks being passed around his MC Brothers’ that are present, so I finally relent and tell him about Bree. I hadn’t wanted to take away any of his happiness.

“Whatever you need, Flint.” He promises needlessly. “I’ll be down to check on her when they allow it, alright?”

“Flint Kelly?” A doctor calls out.

“Yeah!” I hit Jasper on the shoulder and head over to an exhausted looking man.

“Ms. Lynch is in recovery. We got both bullets out and don’t expect any organ damage but won’t know about any nerve damage until she’s awake; she also needed a transfusion by the time she got in here. Someone will notify you when you can go back to see her.”

Thanking him, and feeling as tired as he looks; I head back to my Brothers and deliver the good news.

Once they get her in a room, I ask Gunner to move into my house to take care of her dog for the duration of her stay and I settle into the typically uncomfortable hospital chair near her bed. I do nothing but glare at anyone who suggests I can’t stay there; somehow, they all get the message to move along.

Not long after Jasper briefly visits, an orderly suddenly wheels in a recliner. Apparently, the maternity ward is better equipped and Jasper wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Some hours later, I awake to see her watching me. “Is Ragnar alright?”

“Yeah, Doll, you know the Big Guy will take good care of him. And you’re going to be fine. Y’know, in case you were worried.” I cross over to the bed, offering her some water.

“Randy’s dead, isn’t he?” She asks next, tears streaming down her face. Her speech and her eyes showing the effects of the pain meds.

“Shhh, let’s just worry about you right now.” I look at her, confused as she shifts backwards from me.

“Lay down next to me, Flint?” She’s on her right side and after some work, I’m able to get in facing her. “Are there more men coming for me?” She mumbles as she drifts off.

The next day, I wake up nose to nose with Bree. Her eyes are open and more alert than the night before. “You’ve been shot too, haven’t you, Flint?” She asks.

“Yeah, I’m afraid so,” I reply, not wanting to get into my past right now.

“It hurts like hell, doesn’t it?”

“What about your morphine drip, Baby?” I twist my head around looking for the line and realize I’m lying on it. “Fuck, sorry.”

She opens her mouth as I try to back off the bed, but stops when she sees the Sheriff enter, followed by a doctor. Once the doc finishes poking and questioning her, he gives the Sheriff ten minutes with her. I hold her hand to let them all know I’m not moving.

“Well, we pieced it out.” The Sheriff starts and Bree tightens her grip on me. “Randy was from St. Louis originally and was wanted in connection to a bunch of pawn shop thefts between there and Chicago. The ID he provided to Rusty was another of his specialties.” Michaels takes a breath. “Gun man’s name is Romero Sanchez and he’s got some loose gang ties in Chicago. Guessing Randy pissed someone off and Romero came collecting as a favor.”

Bree’s color is way to pale and she has a death grip on my hand by now. “Sheriff, no! Randy was great, he’s only been with us a couple months, but…”

“We went over his place, Ms. Lynch, we found a couple pieces of the jewelry listed from the different pawn shops.” Sheriff seems fixed on our hands together. “Witnesses say Sanchez just came in and started shooting. Is that what you remember? Did he speak?”

“I, I don’t know...” She stumbles out.

“Ok, I’ll get a formal statement in a day or two, but the case is closed in my opinion.” He turns to go.

“Wait, Sheriff,” She calls out, “Did Randy or the other man have any family?”

“No one living. You get your rest now, Ms. Lynch.” He nods at us before putting his large, black Stetson back on.

I reach out to caress her cheek and watch her press the button for her pain meds as she stares up at me with sad eyes. Her lids start to droop almost immediately and she murmurs; “This is my fault, Flint. Randy’s death is on me.”

Between that and the fear she expressed the night before, I make a few calls. Connal and Jake are still on the hospital grounds, having just visited Jas and Emma; they turn around and come to sit with Bree. I call Wrench next and have him meet me at the clubhouse.

When I get there thirty minutes later, I catch Wrench’s eyes to indicate he should follow me. Without me asking, Gunner leaves his perch at the bar to follow us back to Jasper’s office. Supplying the names I have, I set Wrench to work on his laptop; trying to piece together a backstory I seem to be missing.

Leaving them in the office, I head to my room for a shower and fresh clothes. All I can think of is the look on her face the day after I first met her; when I was being a smart ass and asked if she’d ever committed a felony.

I’m lacing up my boots when Wrench and Gunner enter my room, not bothering to knock.

“Boss, the Sheriff. He was just looking at the dead guys.” Wrench bursts out from the doorway. Gunner pushes him the rest of the way into the room and secures the door.

“It looks like what they said, absolutely; until you dig around with her name.” Wrench is excited but not saying anything that makes sense. Gunner smacks him upside his head, then shrugs at him in apology.

“Right, sorry. Brianna “Bree” Lynch was married to a guy who was shot a couple years ago.” Wrench finally starts talking. “He, uh, the husband, had a different last name but her name was in the obituary. From another news story, I found out that her husband had cleaned up at a charity poker game outside of Chicago; he was robbed and shot in the parking lot. He died the next day. They picked up a guy, but he ended up walking. He was found dead a few months later. Sliced and diced in an alley near his apartment, no witnesses. Case was never closed, he had a long arrest record and no one really cared.”

He looks around, enjoying his moment but pissing me off. “Romero Sanchez, the shooter from yesterday; his brother, Reynaldo Sanchez, more than likely killed Bree’s husband.”

I feel all the blood drain from my face. Looking at Gunner’s face, I can see the reflection of the shock that I’m feeling.

“This stays in this goddamn room, you fucking understand me?” I growl at both of them.

“Of course, Boss. Absolutely,” Wrench swears as Gunner nods. “I gotta go, Boss. I know it’s a bad time but my Ol’ Lady is sick and I gotta help with the kids.”

I nod and he heads out. Looking up at Gunner, “Bree was the target. I have to keep her safe.”

“You think she killed the brother?” He asks, his face unreadable as he leans against the wall with his arms crossed.

“Yeah.” Shit just got complicated. “You’ve seen a wound that’s been super glued shut, right?”

“Huh, yeah; got a couple myself.” He shrugs and I feel like shit; I suddenly remember closing one of his wounds like that when he first got patched.

“She’s got one on her side, fresh enough that she got it since her husband died.”

“I’m in, whatever you need.” Gunner swears. “I’ll crash at your place with her dog until she’s out of the hospital, ok?”

“Maybe a bit longer than that, too.” I stand, needing to get back to her; it’s been too long and now that I know the burden she’s been carrying, I want to hold her more than ever. “I want eyes on her until we know what else is coming.”

Before opening the door, Gunner turns back to me. “You know, I liked her pretty quick. Never sexual; just, she’s good people, you know?” I nod back to him when he pauses.

“Now, I fucking love her. She got justice for her old man. She’s not like us. She was straight-laced, y’know? Had some desk job. But she went fucking rogue and did what needed doing. Whatever you need, Boss. Whatever it takes to make sure she’ll be safe.” Gunner vows.

I clap him on the back and follow him down the hall; Gunner doesn’t talk like this so the knot in my throat makes it hard for me to respond.

“So, Boss?”

“Yeah?” I finally manage to get a word out.

“Her scar, you have seen her fully naked then?” Asshole’s got a huge shit eating grin on his face.

“Shut the fuck up, Gunner.” I try not to laugh as he breaks the tension.

“Nice job, Boss.” He throws over his shoulder as he heads to his wheels.