341 B. 341 B.
Jessa swallowed a sick knot in her throat as the room number ran through her mind. The hospital had too many damn hallways. She skidded to a stop in front of a plaque with room numbers pointing in opposite directions. The anxiety made it impossible to digest what she was seeing. She pressed a hand to her forehead.
341 B.
She hung a left, her legs feeling wooden as she remembered the phone call. One of the motorcycle club brothers. A guy she hadn’t seen in years – telling her she needed to come to the hospital ASAP. Her father had been shot.
Most times when a brother got shot, it didn’t even warrant a second glance.
If they had been instructed to call her, the estranged daughter of the Death Knells’ president, then it could only be bad.
Bad bad bad. 341 Bad.
The breath whooshed out of her when she finally found the room. Hands shaking, she turned the door handle. She hadn’t seen her father face-to-face in two years. Even then, it had been fleeting and perfunctory. A sort of “let’s try to make this relationship better” meetup that had ultimately led to nothing changing.
Because how could it? Her father, Stone, was committed to his MC. Jessa’s little brother had died at the helm of it, too, so Jessa never wanted a part of their fake trappings of security and brotherhood.
Better to just go their separate ways.
And now look where the MC got you, Dad.
The door creaked as it swung open. A dimly lit room greeted her. And six Death Knells members turned to look at her.
The room seemed to shrink under the quiet protectiveness of the club brothers. There was barely a sound as she stepped in, save for the weak beeping of a machine hooked up to her father. His grizzled features looked even more war-torn than she remembered under the dim light of the room.
He gestured for her to approach, an IV stuck in his hand.
Jessa looked at the brothers as she headed for the bed. There wasn’t animosity necessarily, but rather a feeling of two species of different worlds acknowledging each other. A rabbit nodding at a dinosaur. A scientist stepping into the world of a porn star.
“Jessa.” Her father’s rasp was weak – almost sounded like a different person entirely. “You came.” The surprise registered in his voice despite the breathing tube. After all, he had good reason to think she might not come.
But Jessa had debated, then realized, at the end of the day, that she at least needed to see the old man off.
“What happened?” She slid her hand into his rough outstretched fingers. His familiar warmth brought back tender memories of childhood – the way he used to lead her to her favorite ice cream shop on Sundays, the effortless way he could throw her up, high into the sky, while she shrieked with joy, and the overall sense that her daddy would always be her protector. No matter what life threw their way.
Except he couldn’t protect your brother. And he couldn’t protect himself. So you had to protect yourself through distance.
“I don’t think you want to know.” He managed a weak laugh. Jessa was acutely aware of the brick wall of brothers surrounding her and her father. The men were motionless, stoic – always there to do the president’s bidding. “It was tense. We lost a brother.”
She sniffed. “And now you.” Her gaze traveled over the bandages wrapped around his bicep. He shifted in bed, wincing. “Where were you shot?”
He let out a rattling sigh. “My gut and my chest.”
“So why aren’t they just sewing you up?” She glanced around the hospital room. A few pairs of eyes were on her. Who could tell what these guys knew about her, much less what they thought of her? Two she recognized from her childhood; longtime pals and brothers of the club. The rest were strangers; probably recruited sometime in the past six years that she’d distanced herself fully from her father and the club.
Her baby brother, Jake, had died at age eighteen as a recruit for the Death Knells. It had destroyed her, and their father, too. But the fact that the old man didn’t give up the MC lifestyle immediately hadn’t sat well with her. It just didn’t make sense for him to support the lifestyle that had killed his only son.
Not that this crowd would be sympathetic.
“The way the bullet entered…” He paused, wheezing. “I’ve got some internal bleeding. It’s real bad, Gem.”
He’d always called her his ‘Jessa Gem’ growing up – pretty like a gemstone. She rolled her lips inward, studying the seam of his hospital-issued blanket. She wouldn’t cry here, not in front of all these men she didn’t know.
Jessa squeezed his hand as she tamped down the emotions threatening to spill out of her. After a few moments of painful silence, she found her voice. Turning to the brothers gathered around them, she said, “Can we have a few minutes?”
The brothers regarded her in stony silence. Maybe her father had instructed them to be invisible, or maybe this was the byproduct of her truly awful reputation. Stone nodded, flicking his fingers toward the door. She watched as they filed out like a bizarre version of a schoolroom line; these grown boys in their matching uniforms, black leather cuts with the same gnarled bell sewn onto the back.
The last man out of the room caught her eye – a guy who looked about her age, hair pulled into a bun at the top of his head with a freshly shorn undercut underneath. Bright blue eyes zapped her to attention. The biker Jared Leto. He looked like he was about to say something, but her father held up his hand.
“It’s fine, Silas. You can go.”
Silas sent her a disapproving look and then retreated from the room. When it was just the two of them, Jessa arched a brow.
“They all but barked at me,” she noted.
“They’re protective.” Her father winced as he shifted on the bed. “They’re good guys.”
Jessa bit back a snarky response. It wasn’t a good idea to aggravate old wounds, not now. Not when this very well might be the last time she ever spoke to her father.
But what else was there to say? The truth was so glaringly obvious; he wouldn’t be dying if it weren’t for the MC. However good those guys were, their every waking moment reinforced a sad truth: Jessa’s brother, and soon her father, didn’t value their lives enough to save themselves.
“I don’t know what to say,” she said feebly, her own voice sounding foreign to her. “I wasn’t prepared for this.”
“Me neither, Gem.”
“But how could you let it happen?” Her brows furrowed, emotion bubbling up and over the top. Tamping it down wasn’t working. It would come out one way or another. “You’ve lived your life on the edge for so long. Wasn’t Jake’s death the proof you needed to take a back seat?”
The sigh that slithered out of her father contained all the exhaustion and annoyance built up over his lifetime. “Gem, I don’t have the words to explain this to you. Not again. Not here.”
“But… you could have chosen life.” Tears welled in her eyes. She thought she had reconciled the loss of her father years ago – back when she decided to act as though he were already dead. But apparently, she was wrong. “You could have chosen a relationship with me.”
“Gem, you think I didn’t choose you?” His hand squeezed hers. “I always chose you. You just didn’t see it.”
“Oh yeah?” She let a sarcastic laugh at the same time tears spilled out of her eyes. She wiped them away hastily. “Sure, looked a lot like choosing the MC.”
He shook his head, the pulse monitor spiking. “It was never about choosing the MC. I am the MC. Don’t you get that?”
A heavy silence settled between them while Jessa focused on the bed. Just let it go. These wounds will heal someday. She had to believe it. And she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life lamenting the fact that she fought with her dad on his deathbed.
“I’ve always loved you, Dad.” She sniffed hard, bringing the back of his hand up to her lips. “You need to know that. I just couldn’t stay close after what happened with Jake. But I’ve always loved you.”
“I know, baby.” The pulse monitor went back to a normal rate. He mustered a small smile. “You’ve always been my baby girl. My beautiful Gem.”
Jessa pinched her eyes shut as the tears flowed. There was no holding them back.
“Daddy, I’m gonna miss you.” Her voice broke as she spoke, and tears were shining in his eyes, too. “I’m gonna make you proud. I’m sorry I wasted our time together.”
Jessa pressed her head to his chest, and he wrapped a big arm around her. She cried into his chest until she couldn’t cry anymore. When she finally pulled herself off him, he wiped away a few tears from his face.
“There’s something I need to tell you before I go,” he began. “But before I do, go grab Silas from outside.”
***
Silas had been staring at the hospital room door for what felt like hours. Every second away from his president stretched on like an hour. These final moments were precious, and hell if that bitch daughter of his deserved them.
A couple brothers spoke quietly down the hall, glancing at their phones. Tiny had gone to grab a round of shitty hospital coffee, while Silas was left wondering if that girl was gonna strangle her dad to say she finally got her revenge.
The door creaked open, and he straightened. The daughter peeked out, her gaze landing on him. Bright green eyes sent a shiver through him, but he wasn’t sure if it was a shiver that would lead to fucking or slapping. Maybe both, with this girl.
“You Silas?” Her words landed like a whip on him. He jerked his head into a nod. “Stone wants you.”
He pushed off the wall and followed her into the room, sizing her up from behind. On looks alone, she was the type of girl he’d hunt down in a bar full of women. Slender and tightly packed, she looked like a biker chick who liked to have a good time. But there was no way he’d ever hunt down Stone’s estranged daughter. He and the rest of the club knew that she’d given a big middle finger to the MC and everything they stood for. Silas couldn’t get down with that, not even for a good lay.
He shut the door behind him quietly, eyes adjusting to the dim scene. Stone wiped at his face as Silas approached. His daughter came around to the other side of the bed, gripping his hand.
“Now that you’re both here,” Stone spoke slowly, like it was a struggle, “there’s a favor I need.”
“Anything.” Silas crossed his arms over his chest, glancing at the daughter. Her cold gaze was on her father, a man who had done everything possible for her yet she’d chosen to cut him off. So many of the Death Knells’ brothers didn’t grow up with a dad, and Stone had protected and watched over them like a father. In his book, the daughter should never have been called to come to his side. She didn’t deserve it. She didn’t deserve him.
Stone let a weak laugh. “I knew you’d say that, Silas.”
“It’s true. I’d do anything for you, Prez.” He looked at the daughter again, whose eyes had narrowed. Game on, bitch.
“Good. Good. I like to hear that.” Stone shifted in bed, drawing a labored breath. “I’m gonna need that.”
His daughter stiffened, if it was possible, on the other side of the bed. Silas winced as his beloved president took another moment to get a lungful of air. It wasn’t fair this was happening to him. And Silas wished that it had been anyone else but Stone to get taken out. Death Knells had been fighting some rising tensions with a rival gang, Wicked Spawn. But after tonight’s incident, with Stone’s blood on their hands, it would become all-out war.
It was the only way to avenge Stone’s pending death. And Silas would make it his personal mission.
“First thing I gotta say is… my replacement.” Stone wheezed, his dark brow furrowing. “Silas, you’re gonna be the new president.”
Silas stared at Stone for a moment, unable to process the words. He must have heard wrong. There was no way… “What?”
“You heard me. You’re the new prez.”
He blinked once. Then again. “Stone—”
“I know what you’re gonna say.” Stone paused, drawing a breath. “And I don’t want to hear it. You’re the best man for the job. The decision is final.”
Silas stood in stunned silence. It hadn’t even registered, amongst the sadness and anger, that Stone would be thinking about his replacement. The enormity of this choice came crashing down around Silas. He wasn’t a new recruit, but there were plenty of other older guys who had been here since Stone got their chapter started back in the eighties. Why not one of them?
Silas clamped his mouth shut. A strange lurch of pride and confusion made his vision go fuzzy at the edges.
“The rest of the guys will understand,” Stone said after a moment. “They’ll agree with me.”
Silas finally nodded, his throat tightening. Why had he asked his daughter to be here to ruin this special moment? He glanced up at her, almost a glare, and found her watching him intensely.
“Now the last thing.” Stone coughed into his fist, grimacing. “Involves both of you.”
Silas drew a breath and held it, a niggle of worry in his gut. This didn’t seem promising.
“Consider this my deathbed wish.” Stone offered a rueful smile. “I need to protect my Jessa from the Wicked Spawn. You two…” He coughed, a little bit of blood on his lip. “You two need to get married.”
***
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