For once, Mason looked stumped.
His relief at seeing her after such a bout of intensity during this awful battle took precedence and his anger melted away. He pulled her into him and held her tightly.
“All right,” Slade said. “Mason. Tank. Go with the girls. Help them with Cole and Liam.” He eyed Van, telling him, “You and me will follow when this shitshow’s taken care of.”
“Go it, boss man,” Van said.
“Yeah, Prez,” Mason agreed.
Tank nodded.
As they led us over to Lucy’s truck, I shot a glance back at Nik.
So many years of so much pain, forcing me to do things I would always regret, making me run, having me always looking over my shoulder… and now it was over.
Just like that.
Nik Stone was gone. His club was decimated.
It was surreal.
And it was going to take a hell of a lot of getting used to.
I was free.
25
~Cole~
TALK ABOUT A HANGOVER FOR THE AGES.
That shit Nik had shot me up with had been intense.
I’d passed out shortly after I’d thought I’d seen Tasha show up at the truck stop, then for a few hours afterward. It turned out I hadn’t been hallucinating and she had actually shown up.
First Mason rigging the Sedan without anyone’s knowledge and blowing it to hell along with several Strikers too, then her putting herself and our kid in jeopardy by showing up in the middle of a fucking bloodbath. Jesus Christ. And I was known as the wild one?
I scrubbed my hand over my face. My head was killing me, I was fucking nauseous, my body was aching and battered from Nik’s beating, and my throat was as dry as sandpaper. According to our doctor, the nausea and rough throat were normal, given the heft of the dose and the fast-track way he’d gotten it out of my system.
Earlier, he’d come by to check on me again and he’d given me the all-clear to get up and about as long as I took it easy. Hell, even without the okay, I’d still planned on getting back to it today.
There was a shitload I needed to deal with.
Thankfully, I’d gotten the worst over and done with about ten minutes ago.
I’d met with Prez, a discussion that’d ended up taking close to two hours as we’d hashed everything out and finally gotten back to a good place with each other after all the bullshit of the Nik situation that’d come between us. He’d also informed me that the club had managed to cover their tracks with the shitshow that’d gone down at the truck stop. It turned out that, not only had Rick made it out, but Slade had actually made him an ally. The Strikers MC was decimated, their Prez put to ground, and Rick was apparently seeing to it that the prospects and a couple of fully-patched members left back at their compound dispersed and didn’t try to resurrect the fucked-up club.
The members in question would be monitored by Steel Titans for a good long while until we were sure they weren’t a threat of any kind or planning any sort of retribution.
Slade had already issued a warning to all the boys, ordering us all to lay low for the foreseeable future until things blew over fully. Dropped bodies and an explosion didn’t come without consequences and we needed to do everything we could to protect ourselves. Given that Slade had been planning this for a hell of a long time, he’d thought of everything, had safeguards in place to protect his brothers and the club as a whole from the law and any reprisals. Honestly, the guy had connections all over, in high places, considering what he was able to do.
Still, good fortune eventually ran out on everyone so we weren’t going to take any of it for granted and we were going to play it safe.
But, all in all, it was really good news.
It was still too fresh for it to have settled. I knew it’d take a long time before I reconciled the fact that Nik Stone and our long-time rival club was actually gone, that we’d actually won.
I drew in a breath and made my way back upstairs, heading to my next call.
As I made it to the door at the far end of the second-floor corridor where most of our rooms were located, I stopped outside Liam’s room.
When Mason had come by to check on me earlier, he’d told me it’d been a through-and-through, that the bullet had missed everything vital. Our doctor had sorted him out and he’d recover just fine as long as he took it easy.
I rapped on the door and I heard his footsteps heading over a moment later.
The door swung open and he filled the doorway, shirtless, his arm in a sling and struggling to do up his jeans. His hair was wild and he looked majorly out of sorts.
“You all right?” I asked.
He blinked. “What? Yeah. Yeah, I’m all good. Why?”
Frowning at how weird he was being, I answered with the obvious. “You were shot, for one thing. Mason said you were doing all right, but it’s not looking like it.”
He laughed it off, telling me, “The pain meds they gave me are strong fucking things. Guess it’s got me a bit outta it 'til I get used to them.” He shot a nervous glance down the hall, then sucked in a breath and shifted his weight, clearly trying to get himself together. Then his gaze snapped back to mine as he asked, “You? How you doing after that shit that fucker shot you up with?”
“All good.”
He nodded.
An awkward silence fell between us. It had time stretching like a bitch. He stared at me, I stared at him.
Finally, I cut through the weirdness, saying, “Well, I just wanted to make sure you were doing all right. I guess I’ll go.”
“Yeah, okay. Thanks for coming by,” he said, starting to shut the door
