CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Starlet
What happens next is a blur of activity. Iron Norsemen swarm the woods. I hear people calling our names … Brick. Starlet. But I can’t answer. All of my energy is dedicated to Brick and keeping pressure on my shirt that I took off and covered his wound with. After he shoved the pistol in my hand, he passed out again. Now he’s feverish and breathing all wrong.
“Jesus Christ.” Shorty explodes into the clearing first, followed by Eagle and Axe. “What happened, sweetheart?”
I point to Silver’s lifeless body.
“Let’s get them to the clubhouse, now!” Eagle lifts me by the arms and unceremoniously pitches me over his shoulder. “Axe and Shorty, take Brick to the truck. I’ll get Doc Evans right away.”
I’m flung on the back of Eagle’s bike, then he climbs on in front of me. “Hold on, Starlet.”
We arrive at the clubhouse and Eagle ushers me inside. “Angel, get her a double shot of something and meet me in the conference room.” Eagle digs his cell phone out of his vest pocket and dials a number. “Get over here, Doc…” His voice fades as he walks away.
“Starlet…” Angel is in front of me offering me a shot glass filled with amber liquid. “What happened out there?”
I swallow the whiskey. “Silver showed up at the cabin. He shot Brick in the right shoulder, close to his chest, and I’m afraid.” I’m fighting the sea of tears behind my eyes.
Angel takes the empty glass from my hand and sets it on the table. “Listen to me, Starlet. You’re a survivor and didn’t come this far to let that bastard, Silver, win.” She gives me a good shake.
I look up at her, wishing I had the strength to agree, but I don’t. I’ve been stripped of everything again, courage, happiness, faith, and maybe even Brick’s love. If he dies, I’ll die. It’s that simple. I don’t want to be here if he’s not.
“Come with me.” Angel drags me down a long hallway and opens a door. “Look, Starlet. This room is usually locked, but take a close look while you can.”
I do as she asks, taking in every detail—from the adjustable exam table, the overhead exam lights, sink and counter, glass front storage cabinets stocked with everything a doctor would need, an AED, and other equipment necessary to preform medical procedures. “What is this place?”
“It’s a pet project Eagle started putting together when he first bought the property. There’s so many underprivileged kids out here, he wanted to provide a free clinic for them.”
I’m speechless—there must be hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of equipment here.
“Dr. Evans is Eagle’s partner. He’ll take care of Brick. And if it’s beyond his ability, we’ll transport Brick to the hospital.”
Something the Devil’s Crusaders would never allow—gunshot wounds require a call to the local police department. I’ve witnessed my father put a bullet in the head of one of his brothers for getting shot in the stomach during an attack from a rival MC. “Silver attacked us, there’s no evidence to implicate the club.”
“Hey…” Angel pulls me into her arms. “The Iron Norsemen don’t live that way, sweetie. We care about our family.”
I want to believe her, but the opposite has been ingrained in my mind and heart for so long. Snitches get stitches—that whole philosophy has ruled my life. Injured men can talk, dead men can’t.
Suddenly there’s people everywhere. Axe, Shorty, and Bean carefully place Brick on the metal exam table. Another man rushes in dressed in a white lab coat and wearing exam gloves. I watch helplessly as he cuts Brick’s shirt off, revealing his injured shoulder.
I cover my mouth with both hands and wheeze out a cry of shock.
The doc throws me a look. “Who is she?”
“Brick’s old lady,” Shorty answers.
“Get her out of here,” he orders.
Shorty and Angel waste no time wrestling me out of the room. The door is shut and locked behind us.
“He’s a strong kid,” Shorty says reassuringly. “And too stubborn to die from a bullet.”
I let the old man give me a rib-crushing hug. I need all the support I can get, and Brick is very fond of Shorty. “Thank you,” I whisper.
He steps back. “Eagle wants to see you now.”
The three of us go to the conference room where Eagle is waiting with six other brothers. The room falls silent as I step inside. Silver’s body is lying on a tarp in the corner. The proof I need to know the threat is really over. He’ll never hurt me, Brick, or anyone else again. I edge closer just to get a better look. There’s a smug expression on his face, like he never knew the bullet was coming.
“Who put the bullet in his head?” Eagle asks from behind me.
I’m not proud of the fact that I killed someone, not even Silver. However, he deserved to die—a long time ago, like so many other Devil’s Crusaders. “I did.”
I tense under the weight of Eagle’s hand on my shoulder, but turn around to face him. If I violated some bylaw or something, I’m prepared to answer for it. I’ve cost this MC too much already. Now there’s another body to deal with.
“Ever killed someone before?”
“Never.”
“How do you feel?”
“Honestly?” I ask.
“You’re not on trial, Starlet.”
“I-I know. It’s just overwhelming to me. Taking a life. But I feel relieved. Afraid. Exhausted, even. How did you know to check on us?”
“Got a phone call. But don’t worry about it. I want to make sure you’re okay. You don’t carry a weapon regularly, do you?”
“No. When Brick didn’t show up for dinner, I searched for him in the woods. I’d already heard several gunshots, but knew there were hunters nearby. Silver found me.”
Eagle gestures toward the body. “And a little more than he bargained for.”
“Brick was already wounded when I arrived. Silver gave me a chance to say goodbye, told me he was going to kill Brick and sell me to a cartel. If it weren’t for Brick shoving the Derringer in my hand…” I sniffle. “We’d both be dead.”
“You did good, Starlet. Saved Brick’s life and handled yourself commendably. The emotional roller-coaster will level out eventually, I promise.”
I hope so, because at the moment, that’s exactly what it feels like inside my head—an endless ride at Disneyland with wicked curves and dips. “What are you going to do with Silver?”
“Send him back where he belongs,” Axe interjects. “To Huntsville, in a fucking box.”
The other brothers snicker. I gaze at each of them, recognizing admiration in their eyes.
“Brick was right to fight for you,” Axe says.
Humbled by the compliment I know Axe didn’t give lightly, I search for Angel. She’s sitting in one of the chairs along the wall. “If you don’t mind, Eagle, I’d like some time alone.”
“Of course.” He waves his wife over. “Get her whatever she wants, baby.” He gives Angel a hug and kisses her forehead.
Angel escorts me to my bedroom—the vice president’s suite. It seems so empty without Brick.
“I’ll have one of the old ladies make you some hot tea, okay? I need to take a nap.” She rubs her pregnant belly. “Little guy is squirming and kicking a lot today.”
“Thank you, Angel.”
She gives me a sympathetic look and leaves the bedroom.
After I shower and change into a pair of shorts and one of Brick’s Black Sabbath concert T-shirts, I settle on the bed, staring out the window, waiting for word on Brick. The doctor was right to send me away. The gunshot wound didn’t look as serious through Brick’s clothing. But once his shirt was cut away, I lost it. Covering my face with both hands, I let go of whatever control remains. I weep for Brick—myself—and the fact that I was forced to take another human being’s life.
Not sure when I fell asleep or for how long, but it’s dark outside by the time a knock on the door wakes me. I jerk up, tired and confused. “W-who is it?”
“Angel. Can I come in?”
“Please do.”
The door opens and Angel steps inside holding a pile of folded clothes. “Brick is stable, sweetie. He needed a blood transfusion after Dr. Evans removed the bullet. He’s resting comfortably in a room off the clinic.”
“Can I see him?”
“Not tonight. The doc is keeping a close eye on his vitals, but he’s hopeful Brick won’t need to go to the hospital. It was a clean shot, Starlet, didn’t hit any bone or arteries. Thank God.”
I need to see him…
“Here.” Angel places the clothes on the bed. “Brick’s cut and jeans.”
“Thank you.”
“Good night, Starlet.”
“Night.”
I wait until she leaves to grab Brick’s cut and hold it to my chest. His scent envelopes me, his citrus cologne and earthy smell. It brings tears to my eyes, because there’s still a chance this all I’ll have left of him—if he dies.
If is a mighty word. One I’m going to try and ignore. Brick isn’t going to die. He’s young and strong and has everything to live for—his patch and me. I lay the cut aside and pick up his jeans. Surprisingly, there’s not much blood on his pants. His wallet is still in the back pocket and I place it on the nightstand. Better check the other pockets, too. I find a diamond engagement ring in the front, which leaves me breathless.
A heart-shaped, one carat diamond set in yellow gold sparkles under the light. It’s beautiful and delicate. I examine the inside of the ring, finding an inscription. Now we’re free. A play on the words I wrote in the note I left him in the hotel room from our first night together.
Everything that means anything to me has always been ripped away. I slip the ring on my finger, it’s a perfect fit. Brick was going to propose to me at the cabin, and I would have said yes without hesitation. I stifle a sob and climb out of bed, kneeling beside the mattress like I used to do as a kid when I was getting ready to pray.
I bow my head and fold my hands. “I know it’s been a long time, God … too long for me to expect you to listen to anything I have to say. But this isn’t really about me, it’s about a little boy who never really had a chance to be happy. I can only guess you let us find each other because you thought Brick … Austin deserved a second chance at happiness. If that’s the case, please—please let him make it through the night. Let him come home to me…”