Everything’s a blur. I don't know what's happening with the rest of the club, but with Viking in the lead and Snark watching our back, I let myself go numb and follow. Dark, unmoving shapes lie on the floor, but I refuse to look at them, just in case I'll recognize someone, from either the club, or the Family. For a lot of the walk, I just close my eyes and let Hawk show me the way.
Sometimes a shot goes off deeper in the warehouse, and each time I jump so hard it hurts.
“You'll be all right,” says Hawk, but I'm not sure he even believes it.
Outside, the night waits. It's quiet. Only Viking's hurried words on his phone break the silence. The battle must have ended while we left. Did we win? Or are we about to be overtaken by Dario's goons, eager to avenge him?
“Quickshot's on the way with the van. Doc's at the ER, but he said to bring Giordano there. We'll need to clear the air with the mob later, but the most important thing right now is to save his life.”
I nod, but nothing seems real. “Please don't let him die,” I whimper.
The van comes roaring down the road and pulls up with a screech. “It's no ambulance,” says Bear as he carries Dad to the back, “but it'll get us there. Hop in. We'll get the bikes later. We’ve gotta get out of here before reinforcements arrive.”
And so we all pile into the back.
Bear and Snark hold Dad steady while Viking tears apart his shirt to make a bandage out of it. He wraps it tightly around Dad's chest. A soft groan escapes, so Dad's at least still alive.
Hawk holds me. I'm curled up into a ball in his lap, where he secures me tightly. My face presses against his broad chest, and I try to let the steady sound of his heartbeat calm me. I breathe with him, matching his slow pace. I wrap my arms around him and clutch him like he's the only thing keeping me from plunging into a black hole.
In a way, he is.
At the ER, they're waiting with a gurney. At least Dad's still breathing when Bear puts him down, then winces.
“You're hurt too!” I reach out as if my hand is going to do anything about the dark red of his shoulder.
“I'm fine,” he grunts. “Worry about your father.”
“Bear, get the fuck over here.” Doc crosses his arms over his barrel chest and gestures with his head for Bear to get a move on.
“Doc, worry about—”
“Giordano's already on the way to the operating room. The family surgeon’s waiting.” Things move quickly when a mob officer is hurt. I always knew that, just not how fast. “And now I'm stuck patching your sorry ass. Get in here so I can look at it.”
“Doc…”
“Go,” says Viking sternly. “We're watching Alessa.”
If everything wasn't so serious, I'd laugh at huge, massive Bear slinking over to Doc like a schoolboy in trouble. Instead, I let the other guys comfort me while we wait. It's not too long before Bear returns, wincing a little but waving off any concern. “I told you it was just a scrape. The bullet's back in the warehouse somewhere.”
They take turns hugging me, holding me, sitting with me. They all want a chance, and if I didn't know better, I'd think they'd been as scared as I was. Bear strokes my hair, brushing it out of my face while telling me over and over that I'll be fine, and Dad will be fine. Snark makes stupid jokes into my ear that make me smile a little, despite myself. Viking strokes my back while kissing the top of my head, again and again. “Don't you ever fucking scare us like that again,” he rumbles. And Hawk, he just holds me close, soundlessly, but there's no need for words. Just warmth and comfort.
I've dozed off. Hawk nudges me awake, and I look around in confusion. A man has joined us, together with Doc. He wears green scrubs. “What's going on?”
“Your father is going to be all right,” says the man. His voice is low and soothing. “I've extracted the bullet, bandaged him up and he's sleeping now. Resting. He was lucky. No arteries, no critical organs. The most critical problem was blood loss. Give him a few weeks, maybe a couple of months, and he should be back to normal.” Then he excuses himself to attend to other patients.
Thank God.
I didn't realize how keyed up I was until I burst into tears, sobbing into Hawk's shirt. I could've lost Dad. I could've lost Izzy. The guys. Everything.
“He'll never fuck with you again,” says Hawk quietly as he strokes my hair. “You made sure of that.”
I nod against him, but the sobs refuse to stop.