“I can’t believe that asshole got me,” I complain to Wilson as he stands watch next to my hospital bed. They don’t even put me in a room. They see my vest and patch me up right in the hallway. I don’t ask for pain meds—Wilson gave me tequila on the way here.

“Meh, you were being slow. Honestly man, I think you let him hit you so we could come back here and look for that girl. You said you ran into her here, right? In scrubs? So she’s gotta work here.”

“Yeah but I’ve ridden by every day this week and haven’t caught up to her. I don’t want her to think I’m stalking her.”

“You’re nearly done, just stop talking,” the nurse says as she puts the last bandage on my eye. I probably look a mess. Stupid fucker. God damn drug dealers trying to mess up my town? Hell no.

“All done,” the nurse says with a small smile. “The doctor will make sure that heals up nicely.”

“I don’t need to see a doc, sweetheart, you’ve done well enough, I’m sure.” I watch as she blushes a bit and then grabs my electronic chart.

“You can head out the front, they’ll handle billing there.”

“Ok, thanks.” We pay my bill in cash and get ready to go.

“You’re lucky the club let you come here. Usually we clean up our own messes.”

“Yeah I know, but I’ve got a pretty face, can’t be fucking it up with some gash above my eye, now can I?”

Wilson laughs and slaps me on the back. We walk toward the exit and the place is buzzing. Big city hospitals always have something going on. An ambulance pulls up just as we’re at the glass sliding doors. We step out of the way of the medics so they can unload the passenger. I’m in perfect line to see the body when they open the doors. My heart drops in my stomach like a steel ball.

“Cami,” I whisper under my breath. Her blood soaked hair is the first thing I notice. Then, the long, jagged cut down her face registers in my brain. A teenage boy steps off the ambulance behind her.

“What happened? Was she in a wreck?” I ask the distraught young man.

“N-n-no,” he stutters. “I don't know what happened to her.”

I quickly follow behind him into the waiting room.

“Isn’t that the girl? Rum and coke? This isn’t what I meant by catching her here man. I’m sorry.”

I nod solemnly. I hear Wilson pull out his phone and call the club. “We’re not going to be back for a while,” he says. She’s wheeled away immediately and we’re left sitting in the waiting room once again. I find myself staring at the white walls around me as a million different scenarios play through my mind.

I watch as two nurses talk behind a counter across from us. Wilson doesn’t speak; he’s got his head back and eyes closed. “She isn’t showing any signs of consciousness and she’s being taken to the ICU.” Fuck.

“Is she going to wake up?” the young man who accompanied her in the ambulance asks, clearly concerned. Poor kid, he’s probably never seen shit like this before.

“I don't know,” I hear another nurse admit from the doorway. “I sure hope so, Cami's a really great girl. She just got hired here. I hear she's had a lot thrown at her, but she just takes it all, and smiles.”

“I'm the one who found her,” he repeats over and over, clearly feeling guilty. “She’d ordered a pizza, and I was late getting it to her. My girlfriend and I were having an argument so I pulled the car over to try to talk it out with her.”

His eyes begin to fill with tears so I walk over and pat him on the shoulder. “This isn't your fault. Whoever did this was probably scared away by you. In fact, you saved her life by acting so quickly and responsibly.”

He nods, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. “When she wakes up, will you call me?” he asks.

“Of course I will,” I reply, taking the now crinkled piece of paper from his hand. I look down at the name and number scrawled across the piece of paper. “Austin?”

“Yeah?” he asks.

“I'm sure she will be happy to thank you herself when she wakes up,” I tell him and then watch as he smiles and walks out the door.

Hours later, I’m standing over her, looking at her sweet face. I lied and said I was family, her brother, and no one questioned it. Gotta love the respect that comes with the vest. I would love to know who did this to her and show them the same fucking courtesy. Looking at her tears me up inside, wondering how anyone could do this horrible thing to such a sweet girl. I scoot out of the way as a nurse quickly checks her vitals, and then places another blanket over her before leaving.

No matter what I try to do, I'm distracted by the image of her battered face every time I close my eyes. As I pull into my driveway later that night, everything suddenly hits me. I don't cry, but an anger unlike anything I've known fills me. I thought Jackson dying was bad, but it was nothing compared to this.

Nothing.

I did my part overseas to hurt those motherfuckers, but this one is too close to home. I will find this asshole, and I will kill him.

It’s that simple.