Thirty-Seven
Brennan
I crackedmy knuckles as we rolled up to the hospital. Da had managed to pull some strings, get shit rolling so that Quin kid wasn’t in a prison butcher shop but a decent clinic. But it didn’t take away from the fact that the fuckers had gotten to him inside.
Unsurprised to find a half-dozen bikes outside the clinic, I made my way in and saw Forrest was waiting on me at the end of the corridor.
Heading for him, I asked, “What went down?”
“It’s hard finding out because they’re on lockdown now. The guys who have phones probably don’t want to risk losing them so it’s all quiet for the moment.”
I grunted. “We need answers. We must have a couple of guards on payroll—”
“We have four. None of them were on shift.”
We shared a look.
“That can’t be a coincidence,” I rumbled as our shoes squeaked against the linoleum.
“I don’t think it is.”
“Fucking Sparrows,” I snapped under my breath as Forrest guided me down a couple more corridors, taking us to the ICU unit where I saw a few brothers gathered around in a waiting room. A couple of chicks too.
I recognized Nyx from the few times I’d met him, and saw that one of the women was his spitting image, so I took her to be a sister. As for the other one, the way she was clinging to him and he to her, I reckoned she was the infamous Giulia.
Rumor had it she’d set fire to a pedo over in Ohio... I wasn’t sure how true that was, especially when rumors spread like that Chinese whispers game, where one elephant turned into a menagerie of unicorns, but she looked like a spitfire. Enough for me to eye her warily as I approached.
Nyx, on his own, was volatile.
With his woman and sister to protect, and his baby brother in a hospital bed?
I wasn’t about to get my dick cut off for something that wasn’t my fault.
The sound of Crocs and boots were evidently different than the snap-snap of our Oxfords against the linoleum because the second we arrived, we were at the center of everyone’s attention.
Knowing Nyx was VP now, I arched a brow at him, and asked, “Can I speak freely?”
Nyx’s eyes turned stormy, but he shook his head. “Giulia, Indy? I need you to step outside for a minute. Just until we figure shit out.” He cast a look at one of the guys, saying, “Hawk? Follow them, yeah?”
Hawk nodded, traipsing after Giulia as she growled under her breath, storming off with a glance that promised she’d make Nyx pay for making her leave, but Indy, the one I thought was his sister, merely cast me a look, then squeezed the inked hand of the man holding her close.
Declan would know who was who, as he usually liaised with the Sinners, but Da had called Bagpipes to inform him of the stabbing, which meant he was assigning this crapshoot to me to sort out.
He was a big fucking baby sometimes, but if this was his idea of a punishment, I’d take it. I preferred this to being picked up by his crew, pinned in place, and having the shit kicked out of me.
I didn’t mind pissing blood for a few days, but I had an insatiable wife to feed my dick to now. That changed things.
When the women had gone, I demanded, “What does Quin know that you haven’t told us? Why the fuck would they try to target him when we’d arranged for his release?”
It was clear that they hadn’t expected me to go on the attack. None of this shit was our fault, and we’d been doing the Sinners a favor by getting Quin out early, but I knew how wars started—this was enough for an alliance to turn deadly.
Nyx scowled at me. “I thought you told Rex you’d have people on him.”
“We did. There must have been a problem. As it stands, communication is zero right now. His unit is on lockdown,” Forrest chimed in.
Nyx pursed his lips, but I merely repeated, “You told us he was a kid who’d been shafted by the authorities because he was Native American and he had a racist judge.
“If the NWS thought he was worthy of targeting before he got out, then there’s something missing from that story, Nyx. What the fuck didn’t you tell us?”