Swiss
“Sir,we can take it from here.”
I stared at the man in the white coat who was trying to separate me from Kate.
I’d ridden in the ambulance with her, watching the paramedics work on her.
They’d had to perform CPR about five minutes after they got there.
Hansen had been right.
Kate did have five minutes.
But she wouldn’t have had ten. If I’d fucked around for ten more minutes, she would’ve died alone on the side of the road.
They managed to bring her back.
Faint pulse.
That’s what I was reciting in my mind.
Faint pulse.
“You aren’t takin’ her anywhere where my eyes aren’t on her,” I informed the doctor, holding onto Kate’s stretcher with an iron grip.
In my mind’s eye, I saw double doors close, the image gritty, faded with age. I saw a man in a white coat stop me as I tried to walk through them. Though they certainly couldn’t be the same man, they looked the same to me. Older. White. Went to the country club on Sundays.
Because I’d been brought up to respect and fear such figures, I’d listened that time when he’d told me to wait. That he would take care of things. I’d believed the rich, older, educated man because I’d been conditioned to.
Since then, I didn’t respect anyone who wasn’t wearing a Son’s cut. And in that moment, I didn’t fucking fear anything other than Kate going through those doors without me.
The doctor’s eyes went sideways, probably looking for security, a burly orderly, whatever the fuck passed as protection here. He looked like the kind of fuck who would offer up the petite nurse beside him instead of face me himself. Then his eyes went behind me, where I assumed all of my brothers were standing. I didn’t take notice of anything but Kate.
Faint pulse. Faint pulse.
The doctor swallowed visibly before clearing his throat. “It’s against hospital policy, sir.”
I sighed, knowing that he was a pussy. A bureaucratic pussy which meant he was gonna waste time. Time that Kate did not have.
So that was when I took my piece out of my cut, still holding onto Kate’s stretcher as if it were fused to my palm, and pointed it at the doctor’s head.
“I’m not fuckin’ around,” I informed the sufficiently scared doctor.
The bustle of movement around me told me my brothers had my back against whatever rent-a-cops might’ve had any ideas.
“This is my woman,” I bit out. “And you are obviously one of the last people in town who understand what my patch means. But I’ll educate you by telling you that I’m not afraid to use this,” I shook the gun, “if you do not get your ass into gear, and fix my woman. And forget all about hospital policy.”
The doctor gaped at me for a second, and I idly wondered if I’d be shooting a man today. I would do it in a heartbeat. Without hesitation. I would not regret it. But it would be messy and inconvenient.
Luckily, the doctor didn’t have a death wish. “Okay, we need to prep her for the OR,” he told the nurses. “Get him a gown.” He motioned to me.
I lowered my gun and started moving behind the doors, glancing to Hansen. He nodded to me, takin’ his place by the doors. As did the rest of my brothers.
I trusted they would stand guard, make sure no one would come to take me from her side. They were in for a war if they did.
Kate went into surgery.
Which meant I did too.