Doc turns to Abuela, addressing her directly. "Señora Martinez, I understand your reluctance. But I must be very clear—you have fluid in your lungs. Without proper treatment, this can become life-threatening very quickly."
Abuela groans dramatically, closing her eyes as if in physical pain at the choice facing her. "Dios mío, what did I do to deserve this? First my granddaughter brings home a criminal, now I must live with an entire gang of them."
"Club," Saint corrects again, a hint of amusement in his voice despite the gravity of the situation.
"Abuela, please," I plead, taking her hand in mine. "If Doc says you need this treatment, we have to listen."
She opens her eyes and looks from me to Saint, then finally to Doc, who waits patiently for her decision. With a dramatic sigh that triggers another coughing fit, she finally nods. "Very well. But if I die surrounded by criminals, I will come back to haunt you both."
Relief washes over me so strongly I nearly sway on my feet. Saint's hand materializes at the small of my back, steadying me, his touch sending warmth cascading through my body despite the situation.
"I'll get my truck," Doc says, heading for the door. "We'll need to transport her carefully."
As he leaves, Saint turns to me, his voice softening. "Pack what you’ll both need for a few days."
Panic flares anew as a thought strikes me. "The eviction notice—we have to be out in three days. All our things?—"
"I'll handle it," Saint promises, his voice leaving no room for doubt. "One problem at a time, preciosa. First, we get your grandmother the care she needs. Then we deal with the rest."
The absolute certainty in his voice soothes all the jagged edges I harbor inside. For so long, I've carried a heavy burden. Having someone powerful and capable willing to shoulder some of that weight is both terrifying and incredibly appealing.
"Thank you," I whisper, unable to express the full depth of my gratitude.
Saint's expression softens, his hand coming up to cup my cheek. "I told you, Luna. You're mine now. That means your problems are my problems. Your family is my family."
Behind us, Abuela makes a disgusted sound. "Dios mío, save me from romantic motorcycle gangs.”
"Club," Saint corrects for the third time, a full smile breaking across his face. "It's a motorcycle club."
Abuela's answering eye roll speaks volumes about her opinion on the distinction.
Chapter10
Saint
I stand guard by the door. Luna hovers anxiously by the bed, Paco clutched in her arms. Her eyes never leave her grandmother's face, watching for any sign of discomfort as Doc sets up the IV with practiced efficiency—sliding the needle into Abuela's thin arm, taping it in place, and adjusting the rate of the antibiotic drip.
The medical room in our clubhouse isn't exactly a hospital suite, but it's clean, well-equipped, and most importantly, secure. We've patched up gunshot wounds, knife slashes, and broken bones here—pneumonia might actually be one of the less dramatic medical situations these walls have witnessed.
"She'll sleep now," Doc explains, packing away his supplies. "The medication contains a mild sedative. When she wakes, she'll need to start on the breathing treatments." He gestures to the nebulizer he's set up on the bedside table.
Luna nods, dark circles beneath her eyes a testament to her exhaustion. She looks ready to collapse, but I know she won't leave her grandmother's side without some convincing.
"Thank you," she tells Doc, her voice thick with emotion. "I don't know how I'll ever repay you."
Doc waves away her concern. "Saint called, I came. That's how it works." He packs his bag and heads for the door, pausing to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Try to get some rest yourself. You won't be any good to her if you make yourself sick too."
The door opens before Doc can reach for the handle, and Angel slips in, followed closely by Sophie. Angel's eyes immediately find Luna and a warm smile spreads across her face.
"You must be Luna," she says, stepping forward with the easy confidence that's become her trademark since settling into her role as Ghost's ol’ lady. "I'm Angel, and this is Sophie."
Luna's eyes widen with recognition as they land on Sophie. "From the vet clinic."
Sophie nods. "That's me. Small world, huh?"
"I...I had no idea you were connected to..." Luna's voice trails off as she gestures vaguely at the clubhouse around us.
"My old man is Blade, the VP," Sophie explains with a small smile.
