Crash (Brazen Bulls MC #1)(89)
Willa had boasted that she made a great pie crust, so she’d been assigned dessert duty and had made six: two each of peach, strawberry, and mixed berry. The crusts had come out nice and flaky, just like her grandma had taught her.
A perfect summer supper that they’d eat out on the picnic benches on the patio, under strands of little lights. Willa couldn’t wait.
She was standing at the counter with Maddie, discussing whether the potato salad needed more pepper, when Gunner said behind them, “Look sharp, ladies.”
They turned to him together, and Willa gasped when she saw that he was holding an automatic rifle—holding it across his chest like Rambo.
“Jesus, Gun,” Maddie barked. “What the hell?”
“There’s trouble. The run was hit on the way back. We got injured, and some of the bad guys got away. We’re lockin’ down. Where’s Joanna? We need to pull Cissy and Clara in.”
“She and Mo ran to the market,” Maddie answered. They were low on the good paper plates. “Who’s hurt, Gun?”
Without answering her question, Gunner slammed his hand on the wall. “They left without sayin’? Shit! Fuck! Okay. I’m goin’ for ‘em. They down the street?”
Maddie nodded. “It’s just a quick errand. They’re probably on their way back already. Who’s hurt?”
Willa wanted to know, too. Rad was on that run. All the old ladies’ men were on that run. Gunner, Griffin, and Simon were the only patches who’d stayed back to hold the fort.
Much to her dismay, Gunner turned to her and showed her pity. There didn’t seem to be a drop of snark or sass in him now. “It’s Rad, Will. Slick and Becker are banged up, too. But Rad took a bullet. He’s gonna need your sweet talk and soft hands, so we need you on your game. Maddie, I’m goin’ for the women, and then I’ll go for the girls. You know what to do.” He turned and headed toward the front room.
Willa’s heartbeat had doubled, and she felt woozy. “I don’t understand. What’s happening?”
Maddie put her hand on Willa’s arm. She obviously meant it as a gesture of comfort, but she wasn’t really the hugging and comforting type. She was a get-shit-done type. So after that quick pat, she wiped her own anxiety off her face and said, “Like he said, a lockdown. Don’t get lost in worry, Will. Rad’s gonna need you sharp. They all will. Right now, we need to pull everybody inside, check all the doors and windows, get somebody…Wally, it should be Wally on the gate, and get a gun to everybody who can shoot.”
Her eyes did a quick survey of Willa, head to toe. “You’re country bred, right? West Texas? You can shoot?”
Willa forced herself to be a nurse in this moment and not Rad’s frightened old lady. “Yeah, I can shoot. I can fight, too.”
Maddie laughed. “Baby girl, if you have to fight, we’ll already be so deeply f*cked it won’t matter. But good to know. C’mon. Let’s move.”
“What should we do with the food?” What a stupid question to ask at a time like this.
Performing her impatience with a brisk sigh and a hand on her hip, Maddie said, “Once we’re locked up tight and Mo and Jo are back, we’ll boil the corn and broil the ribs, and put on supper. People still need to eat. Let’s go.”
oOo
Once the women and girls were in and the lockdown was in effect, Willa occupied herself by preparing medical supplies and converting the pool table into an operating table.
Rad had been shot—that was all Gunner knew, and no one from the run had called in again to say more. She didn’t know if the bullet had gone through, or if she was going to have to dig it out, or if she even could. She didn’t know where the wound was, or how much blood he’d lost, or if he was conscious.
She didn’t know how to extract a bullet. She’d observed it done, but she’d been there to hand tools to the person who knew how to do it. These guys kept forgetting that she was a nurse. A nurse, not a doctor. In her actual job, she wasn’t even allowed to suture wounds. In her actual life of the past three months, she was becoming an expert at it.
At least now, they had a better quality and variety of supplies. Griffin had a contact for black market medical supplies and drugs, and Willa had sat down with him and made a list of things they should have on hand. Thankfully, no one had ever asked her to steal from her job.
While they waited for the men to return, after the initial flurry of preparation, the mood among the locked-down people reverted almost to that same friendly, casual atmosphere. People ate. They watched television. They drank. They talked. There were guns all around, and men on guard, and the pool table looked like something out of a Hammer film, a mad scientist’s workspace, but nobody was panicking. Mo, Joanna, and Maddie were more serious, but they knew their men hadn’t been hurt, so they managed the food and people like usual. Ollie had been tensely curious when everyone had been running around, but as the people settled, so did he. He’d spent most of the evening curled up on one of the sofas with Cecily and Clara.
Willa, on the other hand, was befogged with fear.
More than two hours later, the roar of Harleys on the street outside drew everybody in the clubhouse to their feet. Simon grabbed Willa and pushed her back before she could run to the door.
“No, Will. We don’t know it’s our guys yet. Stay back.” Getting her nod, he went with Gunner, Griffin, and Wally to the door, guns at the ready.