Rush (Carolina Bad Boys, #5)(40)

And for a moment, as they got into the taxi, everything was all shiny happy people.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, the ringtone I’d set specifically for Shy.

I answered with a, “Hey, baby. What’s up?”

“I don’t want to alarm you.” She sounded a little bit breathless.

I cranked the phone in my fist. “Now you are alarming me.”

My immediate thought was Diablo had somehow gotten to her.

“I’m in the hospital.”

And that was ten fucking times worse. Because I was two states away, and I couldn’t get to her quickly enough.

Swallowing hard, I forced words out of my mouth. “Are you okay?”

“Who is it?” Tail narrowed his eyes at me.

I shook my head, turning my back. “What is it, Shy?”

“I have an infection from one of the prosthetics. Trust me, my oncologist is just being extra cautious.”

Oncologist. Of course.

I slammed my fist against the wall but kept my voice as calm as I could. “I’ll be there in a few hours. Tell me where you are and what room.”

Jesus. I didn’t even know her oncologist’s name, or if she had physical therapy, or when her next checkup was. From that point on I was gonna be glued to the woman’s side.

“Okay. You don’t have to come—”

I cut her off immediately. “Yeah. I do. I want to. I wish I was there right now.” My eyes squeezed shut. “I’m coming to you, Shy.”

Ending the call, I tried to take a deep breath. Air shuddered into my chest and skittered back out.

“What’s the deal, man?” Brodie asked.

I swiped my hands down my face. “Shy. She’s in the hospital.”

They all started in at once, their words coalescing into sound I couldn’t decipher.

Speaking through the questions, I lashed out. “She has bone cancer.” I rubbed my knuckles against my eyes. “Y’all don’t know, but she’s an amputee because of it. She’s got an infection.”

Brodie’s jaw clenched.

Boomer pulled his lips between his teeth.

Big badass Tail looked about to shed tears.

The rest of them swore quietly under their breath.

Tucker rolled up. “Damn sorry about that, son.”

“Fucking hell.”

“Our girl Shiloh going through that shit?”

I gave a watery laugh. “Correction. My girl Shy.”

“Damn it all.” Brodie seemed to take it the hardest, and crazy as it was for the cracked-in-the-head dude, his icy blue eyes were damp. “Fucking sorry, man.”

“Don’t be treating her any different next time you see her.” I firmed my stance. “She’ll probably cut your balls off if you start acting like you pity her.”

“One class act lady.”

“Respect.”

“Shiloh rocks, Handsome.”

“I gotta jet. Now,” I said, making for the elevator so I could grab my shit from the room.

The MC dudes hustled right along behind me.

“You don’t think you’re going without us, do you?” Tail asked, shoulder to shoulder with me.

“I don’t need an armed escort.”

“We did it for Ronnie. We’re doing it for Shiloh.” Boomer punched the button for the elevator, telling it like it was.





Chapter Twenty-One


Maximum Pain





I COULDN’T RACE BACK to South Carolina fast enough. That one call from Shy had shaken my shit up. Would anything ever be easy for one of our women?

During the high-speed ride from Jacksonville to Charleston, I couldn’t shake my Retribution brothers either. They met my every tight turn, ripped their throttles to keep up with me, and punched down as the road spread before us. Brodie became my constant shadow, Tail flanking my back.

My head in the crapper several hours later, I rolled up to the hospital parking garage, all in a lather.

The dudes roared their bikes to a stop beside mine, easily taking up four spaces in the dungeon of the building with Tucker parking Bo’s Hummer across the way.

“I made it safe and sound. Y’all can go now.” I started digging out my phone to get Shy’s room number, stomping toward the elevator, almost breaking into a run.

Tail hustled beside me. “Yeah. Don’t think so. Your old lady’s sick, so we’re gonna be here for her just like we were for the doc.”

A crazy amount of emotions collided inside me. These fucking guys. Who had wives, kids, fiancées, almost-baby-mommas—and not to forget the four Doberman bitches leaving nose prints on the Hummer windows as they watched their new daddy’s every move. In response to Tuck’s on-the-road SOS, some friends of his pulled up just in time to take over dog duty.

All of us were dusty and sweaty, tired from the road and our previous night’s raid, but my crew was sticking right beside me.

For Shy.

I nodded, because my voice wouldn’t work anymore.

“Besides”—Tucker rubbed his belly—“I got dibs on her Jell-O if she hasn’t eaten it.”

“Yeah. Y’all are the wind beneath my wings and all that shit,” I muttered.

We bundled into the elevator, possibly scaring the shit out of the well-dressed, middle-aged couple headed up.