SKETCH

“I’m here now. There’s nothing left,” I tell Big Daddy on the phone. “It’s completely obliterated. The fire department is working to put out the fire. Are you sure there was no one in here?”

“No, I can’t say for certain. We swept through every room and there wasn’t anything, but we had Gunnar’s phone tracked to that location and Tryke thought it might have been in a basement that no one seems to know about.”

“Shit,” I say. “Alright, I’ll keep you po…” I stop when I hear a gunshot ring out behind me. “Shit,” I growl into the phone. Then I hear another one, followed by three in rapid succession. “There’s someone else here,” I mumble.

“On our way,” he snaps and the line goes dead.

“In there.” I point to a building about a hundred and fifty yards away from Pixie Sticks. Three of my guys and I go running toward the building. There are lights casting weird shadows on the building from fire trucks, flashing lights, cop cars, and it makes the building look ominous in a way I wouldn’t expect.

Then a door bursts open. A naked woman comes stumbling through the door. Some light swings around and catches her just right. She’s holding her arms around her chest, her breasts exposed, blood dripping from one of them and my stomach rolls. No pants on, blood running down her leg, no shirt, only a pair of barely visible panties. The light hits her again and I see her bright green hair. “Kiwi!” I roar.

Her head comes up; her eyes are wild in the light. Fear rips through her and she starts backing away. “Lily, it’s Sketch,” I tell her and she stops. I charge toward her, catching her just as she starts to collapse onto the ground.

I motion for my guys to go in the building, their guns drawn, tactical gear on.

Lily starts crying. “Loki,” she sobs.

“On his way,” I tell her.

“Oh, thank god,” she whispers before she falls weak in my arms.

“I need an ambulance, now,” I shout as loud as I can.

LOKI

“Where is she?” I scream as I climb off my bike. Sketch comes toward me. I see blood on his flak jacket. “Is that hers?” I growl.

“She’s alive,” he tells me and my whole world explodes in color of happiness and relief. “She’s hurt pretty bad.”

“What did they do to her?” Sticks interjects.

Sketch shake his heads and look at Sticks. I grab him by his vest and shake him. “What happened to her?”

He looks at me and braces before he says, “She’s alive. She’s been beaten up pretty bad. Her face is a mess, she has a couple cracked ribs and…” he pauses.

“And what?” I snap.

“She was naked,” he breathes and my world goes red.

“I’m gonna fucking kill them,” I growl.

Sketch’s lips twitch with a grin. “She already did,” he breathes. “Well, one of them. The other is in pretty bad shape.”

For some reason, I bust out laughing harder than I have in years. “That’s my woman,” I roar. I should have known she could take care of herself, but Jesus, this has been the worst possible night of my entire life.

The next thing I know, my head is flying to my right. “Fuck,” I growl at Tryke. “What the fuck?”

“You’re losing it, man.” He glares at me, waiting for me to settle down. “Get your shit together and get over to the hospital,” he tells me.

“I need to get Piper.” I find some clarity in my mind. It’s not much, but it’s enough to start thinking straight.

“Go to the hospital,” Tryke orders. “I will bring Piper up later. When she’s ready to see her.” He tacks on with a glare.

I sober completely and nod. “We’ll be right behind you,” Pixie adds. I nod again, making my way to my bike. As soon as my ass hits the seat, I take a deep breath. She’s alive. I’m alive. Gunnar is dead, Rooster is in jail, Piper is safe. Lily is safe.

I never imagined I’d feel such relief when this was all said and done. It’s like the biggest burden has finally lifted from my shoulders and I feel like I can actually breathe for the first time in a very long time.

I drive toward the hospital with a small smile on my face. The sun starts to rise and it’s the most glorious thing I’ve seen in years. The smell of fresh air and sunshine is more beautiful than I’d ever considered and it’s because she’s safe. She’s alive, she’s forever going to be safe because she’s my old lady. She’s my everything, and she can handle herself.

My smile fades the moment I see her lying in the emergency room hospital bed. Her face is a mess with bruises on both sides of her face. There’s blood pools under the surface of her skin making her look even scarier. Her hair is matted and a total mess.

. Her shoulders are bare, naked and exposed, but there’s a sheet covering her from the chest down. That’s when I notice a bandage peeking out the top of the sheet covering her. I move toward her and I pull the sheet up. My vision swims when I see the bandage at the side of her breast, her nipple is covered under the bandage.

“She’s alright,” someone says and I snap my head in their direction. There’s a short, broad-shouldered woman with short brown hair and brown eyes. She’s wearing scrubs and a white jacket with a pleasant smile on her face. She extends her hand to me. “I’m Doctor Marx. I treated Lily tonight.”

“What happened to her?” I breathe.

“She has a fractured rib and two that are cracked.” She bites her lower lip. “I’m trying to avoid ruining that beautiful tattoo,” She gives me a small smile. “I have faith this will work.” With her pen she points at Lily’s wrist and I notice bandages around one, then look at the other. “She was bound so tight they cut into her skin. We’ll assess her for nerve damage when we wake her up. She has the same on her ankles.”

With each word Doctor Marx says, my blood boils with the need to kill the motherfucker who did this before I remember he’s already dead.

Doctor Marx continues, “She was shot in the thigh.”

“Fuck,” I growl, anger raging so hot I want to punch something.

“It’s more flesh than anything, again, when she wakes up, we’ll run some tests, it went straight through,” the doctor says and I try to suck in a full deep breath in as she continues, “Her face is bruised up, but there are no fractures. She’s a tough girl,” she adds.

I point to her chest. “And that?”

Doctor Marx gives me a sad smile. “She was bitten hard enough to break the skin and she has a deep laceration on the side of her breast.”

Anger slices through me so hard and fast my hands bend the side rail on her bed. “Relax,” Doctor Marx says. “We have a plastic surgeon on his way in. We will do everything we can to cover up the bite.”

“What about the other guy they brought in with her?” I ask through gritted teeth.

“Do you know him?” she asks.

“No, but he did this to her,” I tell her.

Doctor Marx gives me a satisfied smile. “Then you’ll be happy to know he died about ten minutes ago.”

Relief takes over and I sit in the chair next to the bed. I gently grab her hand and brush my thumb over the back of it, letting her know I’m there.

“She’ll be alright, physically. It’s just gonna take some time for her to heal.”

“How long will she have to stay in the hospital?” I ask.

“We’ve given her some sleep meds, she’s gonna be out for a while, and we’re waiting on the plastic surgeon, so a couple days, maybe a week, depends on how quickly she recovers.” Doctor Marx shrugs. “I imagine it will be sooner rather than later.”

I nod my understanding and Doctor Marx does her exam. She lifts the sheet at the end of the bed and checks Lily’s reflexes and I’m relieved when her foot twitches. The other one too. Then she moves to her hands and does the same thing. Lily’s hand twitches. She takes the one I’m holding and while it takes a little longer for it to respond, Doctor Marx seems satisfied with the results and turns to leave.

“Are you her husband?” she asks.

“Boyfriend,” I correct her.

She nods. “Is she on any medication?” she asks.

I shake my head. “Not that I know of,” I tell her, and it’s true, I have no clue.

“Birth control?” she asks.

“She said she wasn’t on anything.” My heart starts pumping a little faster in my chest. I can’t tell if its panic or fear or something else entirely.

“Is there any chance she could be pregnant?” Doctor Marx asks me.

I just stare at her for a moment before I gently squeeze Lily’s hand. “Um, maybe.”

“We can run some tests to be sure,” Doctor Marx says softly.

I just nod, not sure what to say to that and the doctor goes to leave, “wait,” I say to her. She stops, looking back at me, “was she…uhm…was she…down there?” I manage.

Doctor Marx gives me a sympathetic smile. “We found no evidence to suggest that. She was still wearing her panties and we checked for any signs and there were none,” she reassures me. “We’ll ask her when she wakes up to be certain, but I think you’re in the clear.” She winks and leaves the room.

My heart, which had leapt into my throat a few moments ago, settles back in my chest and slowly returns to its normal rhythm.

About thirty minutes later a nurse comes in, checks Lily’s vitals and does a couple of things, including drawing blood from her IV. “What’s that for?” I ask her.

She looks at me, her eyes widen briefly, but she hides her reaction quickly. I know I’m attractive, but shit. “Doctor Marx requested some additional blood work,” the nurse states.

“What for?” I ask.

She cocks her head at me. “Pregnancy,” she states deadpan and my heart jumps back in my throat.

“How…how long will it take…to um…”

“Find out?” she finishes for me and I nod. “Maybe an hour.” She shrugs and leaves me alone with Lily again.

I don’t know whether it’s the prospect of her being pregnant or the fact that she could be pregnant and she went through all this that has me freaking the fuck out more when Sticks comes into the room. “Jesus,” he groans. “She looks like shit.”

“Ya think?” I say.

“She gonna be alright?” he asks and I explain her injuries. He, like me, blew a gasket over her being bitten, but he let it go when I remind him the fucker’s dead.

“Who was he?” I ask.

Sticks shrugs. “We’re not sure. But Sketch is looking into it. We think he might be a blood relation to Gunnar.”

I roll my eyes. “I never want to hear that name again,” I grumble.

“The rest of the guys are here, most of the club too.” He comes to stand next to me. “Why don’t you leave me with her and go talk to them?”

“Why can’t…” Sticks gives me a look that says to shut the fuck up and do what he says. I gently squeeze Lily’s hand before I let it go and stand up. Sticks promptly replaces me in the chair and I head toward the waiting room. As I draw closer to the doors, I hear a lot of noise on the other side and I push through the door.

“Jesus H,” I grumble when I see close to fifty burly, badass bikers in the waiting room of Roswell Regional.

There’s a collective hush that comes over everyone as some of the guys notice me. Tryke comes forward first. I don’t say anything to him, I don’t have to, and he wraps his arms around me. “She’s gonna be fine,” he whispers.

“Yeah, man, she is,” I breathe back. His arms tighten a little more before he releases me.

“She’s alright,” he tells everyone and I catch the nurses jumping when the guys all cheer.

“Piper?” I ask Tryke.

“I’m going there next.”

“She’s gonna wanna see her,” I tell him. “But not yet. Whether Kiwi wants it or not, she’s in bad shape.”

“You got it,” he tells me.

“I’m sorry guys,” a petite little thing comes up next to us, “I’m gonna have to ask you guys to leave.”

“Like hell we’re leaving. One of ours is in there,” Big Daddy barks.

“If you’re going to stay, you need to sit down and be quiet. Your loved one is not the only patient in this hospital,” The nurse fires back.

I snort. Big Daddy turns red, but Whistler cuts him off. “She’s not one of us,” he gently reminds Big Daddy. “And she’s right. Some of us should get out of here.”

“Whistler’s right, they’re not gonna let y’all back there,” Cowboy adds. “And there ain’t much we’re doin’ besides standin’ round causing a ruckus. Drinks on me,” he finishes and again the guys cheer, none of them giving a shit that it’s eight in the morning.

A bunch of the guys pat me on the back as they file out of the emergency room doors. I’d love to see the parking lot right now, full of bikes scaring away anyone coming to the hospital.

After all the guys leave, Whistler, Pixie, Tryke, Big Daddy and Cowboy are all that’s left. “She really gonna be alright?” Big Daddy asks.

“Physically? She’ll be fine. She’s got a broken rib, two cracked ribs, a through and through in the thigh, and more cosmetic damage than anything. She’s pretty bruised up,” I tell them.

“The other guy?” Cowboy asks.

I give them all an evil smirk. “Dead,” I share and my smirk is matched by theirs. “Not sure of the details, just know it was about ten minutes before I got here.”

“Good,” Pixie says.

“I know you don’t want to leave her,” Tryke chimes in, “but we got the vote at noon.”

I sigh. “Can we put it off for another day?” I ask.

“Nope, gotta be done today,” Big Daddy says. “You want to make a bid for it, you have to be there.”

I look at Tryke and say, “I think Tryke should.”

Tryke shakes his head. “My time came and went, I ran instead of fighting, no one is going to want me as their Pres.”

I snort, “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

He shakes his head.

“Noon, clubhouse,” Big Daddy says and I nod. Family may come first, but the Wicked Angels were my family long before Lily was.

“Go to Piper, please,” I implore Tryke.

He nods. “On my way.” He squeezes my shoulder and heads for the doors.

“We got Tucson and Boulder rollin' in,” Pixie says.

“Why?” I ask.

Pixie cocks his head. “New pres.” He smirks and leaves me to Whistler, Cowboy, and Big Daddy.

“I’m gonna hang out for a while,” Big Daddy says. “I’d like to see her.”

I nod and give him the room number. He goes back to see her. “I’m gonna go to Iron Wings. Come by and I’ll liquor you up, you look like you could use it,” Cowboy says before taking off. Leaving me alone with Whistler.

“You get anything out of Opie?” I ask when we’re alone.

“I got all kinds of shit, including where the rest of the money is hidden.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “I thought we got it all.”

Whistler snorts. “Apparently, we weren’t the only ones Rooster was skimming.”

“Jesus Christ.” We walk toward the chairs and sit down.

“It will be up to whoever gets Pres, but Big Daddy wants to allocate the money we recovered to rebuilding Pixie Sticks and that compound. He’s also going to make sure Lily and Piper get some of it, then whatever is left over can be used for whatever Roswell needs.”

“I think we’re good,” I tell him.

“He’s making some serious changes to all the compounds. Including cameras and security systems. He refuses to see another building blown to smithereens and it’s time the Angels caught up with the times.” Whistler is pretty insightful when it comes to shit, and I learn that more and more the longer we talk. Then he asks me, “You get Pres. What’s the plan?”

I shrug. “I want Tryke as Veep, Axel…shit, have we heard anything about him?” I ask.

Whistler smiles. “He’s upstairs, but he’ll be fine. Why?”

“I want him as SIA.”

“Good choice,” Whistler agrees.

“Treasurer.”

“You’re gonna laugh at me,” I tell him.

“Not likely.”

“Kiwi.”

“You’re shitting me, right?” He’s not laughing.

I’m the one who laughs. “I’m not sure I can ever trust anyone with that position again and if Tryke takes Veep,” I shrug, “he can’t do both.”

“Says who?” Sticks joins us. I look for Big Daddy and deduce he’s still with Kiwi.

“Um, Angels law,” I tell him.

“Fuck that,” he grumbles as he sits down across from us. “He can do both, at least until you find someone you can trust.”

“Did you hear who he wants?” Whistler asks.

“No, who?” Sticks raises an eyebrow.

“Kiwi,” Whistler says.

“No, shit?” Sticks asks me.

I nod. “Not sure I trust anyone else,” I tell him. “She’s smart, knows more about this club than any of us possibly imagined. She could handle it,” I tell him.

He frowns. “I like the idea of progress, you know this, but I doubt it will fly with D,” he says.

“I know, but it’s worth a shot. Regardless, Cowboy would be a good bet, he’s just got Iron Wings and…”

Big Daddy joins us and says, “Maybe it’s time to turn over a new leaf at Wings.”

“How so?” I ask.

“Sticks is right. I would never sign off on Kiwi as Treasurer. I’m all for forward progress but books and logistics are always handled by members. You’ve got a pool to choose from and if Cowboy is who you want, then roll Iron Wings to someone else. Loni’s ‘bout done,” he says. “I’d imagine she’d put in a bid for something else once the presidency is assigned. She tried a couple years ago and Rooster refused.”

“Who’d run it?” Whistler asks the question I was thinking about.

“Kiwi,” I breathe.

Big Daddy smirks at me. “It’s a win-win,” he says and he’s right. I can keep Kiwi close, but not too close.

We talk for a few more minutes before I return to her room and sit by her side. I take her small hand in mine and give it a gentle squeeze. Her fingers twitch in mine. I look up to find her eyes are still closed. I stand up, lean over her and kiss her forehead. “I love you, Lily,” I breathe.