“I can’t do that! They’re not telling me anything else,” I say, refusing to admit to him that Wirth knows I’m a traitor and also unwilling to help my brother hurt anyone else. “Leave while you still can, before everything goes to hell!”
“I can’t leave Cormac,” Rian says. “My job is to protect him.”
“No, his job should be to protect you,” I argue. “You’re supposed to be the one they follow.”
“Well, that’s not how it works right now, and I’m done talking about this shit with you.”
“You know as well as I do that Cormac deserves everything that happens to his sorry ass!”
“Don’t fucking say that!” Rian snaps at me, sounding so defensive and unlike my little brother. “You don’t know him like I do.”
“No, I know him better. You’re fucking blind and think everyone is as loyal as you are,” I say with a roll of my eyes he can’t see before I end the call.
My brother is too damn stubborn to admit when he’s wrong or when Cormac is in the wrong, and that error in judgment is probably going to cost him his life.
Chapter Fifteen
Wirth
“Hey, Joanna. Sorry to bother you,” I say when the kind nurse opens her door later that night.
“No, you’re fine,” she says in a rush as she reaches up to redo her ponytail that’s coming undone, her cheeks a little flushed. “And you came at the perfect time – he’s actually awake and talking!”
“He is?” I say in surprise.
“Yeah. Finally, right?” she laughs nervously. “Come on in.”
“Thanks,” I say as I step into the house and go right to the bedroom.
When I walk in, Fiasco is sitting up, his torso bare other than the bandage on his side under his ribs. “Oh, it’s just you,” he says before he falls backward on the pillow again.
“Ah, just me? Thanks for that warm reception,” I joke with a grin, glad to see him not only conscious but more alert than I expected.
“Sorry, that’s not what I meant,” he says just as Joanna comes in behind me.
“Would you like something to drink, Wirth? What about you, Phillip?” Joanna asks.
“Phillip?” I repeat in confusion. “Who the fuck is…oh.”
All this time I’ve known Fiasco and I had no clue that his real name is Phillip. Seems odd he has such a normal name for such an unusual man. And really, to the guys in the MC, he’ll always be Fiasco.
“I would love some water,” Fiasco, aka Phillip, tells Joanna.
“I’m fine, thanks,” I reply before she hurries out of the room.
“So, how are you feeling?” I ask him. “You look better.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m good,” he says, watching the door intently before his wide brown eyes come back to me. “Wait. You’re not here to take me home, are you?”
“Ah, I don’t know. I wasn’t even sure if you would be awake or not. Are you ready to go home?”
“Fuck no!” he exclaims. Lowering his voice, he says, “Did you see the hot piece of ass waiting on me?”
“She’s a nurse,” I remind him.
“She’s a goddamn angel,” he says with a sigh as his head falls back onto the headboard.
“Fine. But she’s also Nash’s sister, so don’t even think about…well, about the things you normally think!”
“His sister?” Fiasco says, his jaw dropping. “I didn’t know he had a sister.”
Whispering, I go over to his side of the bed and tell him, “You still don’t. You can’t say a word! She doesn’t know yet.”
“Oh. Okay,” he replies just as Joanna returns with a glass of water.
“Here you go,” she says, coming to the side of the bed so that I have to step back out of the way. Then, she lifts the glass to Fiasco’s lips and holds it while he sips like a helpless child. Jesus Christ, he’s milking this for all it’s worth.
“I brought you more pain killers too,” Joanna says. Fiasco opens his mouth wide, and she places a pill on his tongue that he swallows with the sip of water she gives, followed by a second. “Now, I’ll let you two have a little privacy.”
“Thank you, angel,” Fiasco tells her retreating back, probably her ass, before she disappears, watching her like a lovesick puppy. When she’s gone, he says, “I never want to leave here.”
“Oh, you’re going to leave here, just as soon as Joanna says you’re recovered enough,” I tell him. “She’s been taking time off of work after we busted in on her that night with three shooting victims.”
“Three?” Fiasco asks. “Who else got shot?”
“Oh. Ah, Malcolm’s shoulder got grazed, and Hunt, the president of the Knights, took one to the side of his head. Both are fine now.”
“Do they know who it was? Who did the shooting?” he asks.
“Did you see anyone?”
“Ah, not that I remember. I had just finished coming for the second time. You know how it is after a release. I was floating high when I went down like I’d been, well, shot.”
“We’re pretty sure it was the Irish. They’re not fans of the Knights showing up in the area and were trying to run them off.”
“That was stupid,” he says. “Like a few bullets would scare us away?”
“Yeah, stupid,” I agree, scrubbing my palms over my face.
“So, what’s the plan? Aces going to hit them back?”
“You know it,” I reply. “Tomorrow morning before the sun comes up, when the bar is empty other than their own people.”
“Light ‘em up for me,” Fiasco says, clutching his side with a wince.
“We will,” I promise him. “Take care of yourself.”
“I’m so fucking tired,” he says. “Which is strange since Joanna said I have been sleeping all day.”
“You’re recovering from taking two bullets. Your body needs to heal.”
“Yeah, she said some shit like that too,” Fiasco mutters. “Pretty lucky she was around to help save me. I think I was going toward the light, man,” he says.
“Well, I’m glad
