He gave me a look I couldn’t read, but when he went to speak, someone called out from behind us. “I’m looking for the family of Jeremiah Mickens.”
My attention was drawn away, and I turned, stalking toward the small woman in blue scrubs. She didn’t flinch or back down as I stepped up to her and replied, “I’m Trent Mickens. How’s my pops?”
“He made it through surgery with minimal blood loss, and the knife missed all the major arteries. His right wrist and ankle are broken, he’s got an orbital fracture, and we stitched up the cut on his scalp. We’re going to keep him sedated for the evening so he can rest, and we’ll ween him off the pain medication in the morning.”
“Can we see him?” I asked, needing to see for myself he was still alive.
Her eyes cut to the left then to the right of me, and she cleared her voice before she spoke. “I can’t have a large group of people disturbing the floor. I’ll allow you and one other person inside, but only for a few minutes.”
I looked to Phantom, Pops’s VP and, at the moment, the acting President of the Rapid City Royal Bastards. By club rules, he should be the one to go inside with me, but I was hoping he would let Cheyenne go with me. Her hand in mine was the only thing keeping me centered and not beating the fuck out of anyone who stood in my way.
“Take your ol’ lady and give Nitro my best. We’ll be waiting here when you get finished,” Phantom said. I reached over, and we locked arms, gripping each other’s forearms in appreciation.
Turning to the lady doctor watching us with keen observation, I said, “Lead the way, Doc.”
She turned and walked back into the small hospital as Cheyenne and I followed behind her. She swiped a badge over a blank square on the wall when we got to a set of closed doors, and they opened, allowing us inside. She kept walking without comment, and the closer we got to Pops’s room, the madder I became.
He didn’t deserve to be beaten on the steps of our house, and being stabbed in the back was an unforgivable offense. Pops would give you the shirt off his back if you needed it, but take advantage of his kindness and you’d meet the working end of a baseball bat.
The doctor stopped in front of a closed door and spoke quietly. “Take a few minutes and I’ll be in to check on him in just a bit.”
She turned and walked away as I looked down at Cheyenne. Her green eyes shimmered, and I brushed a piece of her black hair from her shoulder as I asked, “You ready?”
“No, but I want to see your pops.”
I opened the door and held Cheyenne’s hand as we walked inside. The curtain was closed, so I quietly walked to it and slid it to the side. Pops was sleeping with a bandage on his forehead, a cast on his right arm and leg, and more bruises than I’d wanted to count. Someone really did a number on him, and from the extent of his injuries, I’d guessed it was two or maybe three people.
What kind of fuckers triple-team a fifty-seven-year-old man at his home?
Cheyenne pushed a chair over to the side of the bed and nodded for me to sit down. Taking Pops’s left hand into mine, careful not to touch the IV sticking out, I lowered my head to our connected hands. Cheyenne placed her hand on my back and rubbed absently as I silently said a prayer to the god my granddad believed in, asking him to heal my Pops.
A few minutes later, the door opened behind us and I lifted my head and wiped my face with one hand before looking over my shoulder. The doctor was standing close to the door, and she quietly said, “It’s time to let him rest.”
Leaning over, I gave my pops a kiss on the cheek, whispering, “I love you, old man.”
Stepping to the side, Cheyenne leaned over and kissed his cheek before softly saying something to him. When her eyes met mine, I could tell she was sad and pissed, and for her, both were bad emotions.
As we followed the doctor back out of the room, Cheyenne leaned against me, and I wrapped my arm around her. Since her father passed away almost a decade ago, my pops had been like a second father to her, and I know this was bringing back all her old issues of being alone after losing her father.
The doctor walked us to the front lobby and said, “I’m on call this evening, so I’ll be checking in on your dad throughout the night. If anything changes, I’ll give you a call.”
I stepped closer and told her straight, “There will be two of my brothers standing guard outside all night to make sure no one tries to get to my father. If you have a problem with that, speak now.”
She shrugged. “As long as they stay outside and don’t cause problems for the patients, I have no issue with them staying.”
I offered her my hand, and she shook it before I walked outside to the waiting group of Bastards. Their faces were filled with mixed emotions, and when I stopped in front of the group, Animal, the club’s other Enforcer, stepped to the front.
“How’s Nitro?” he asked.
“He’s pretty banged up, and if my suspicions are correct, it was more than one person who put him here. I want to know everything we can about who did this, starting with the truck that nearly ran you off the road. I want to know everywhere he’s been in the last few weeks, I want to know everyone he’s spoken with, and I want to know who I need to kill.”
Phantom moved to the front, and I waited to be called out for stepping on his toes but was shocked when he said, “Until we get to the bottom of this, I’m gonna let you take your pop’s place, temporarily. I spoke with Jamison at the National Chapter, and he’s in agreement. I never wanted to be in charge, and you’re the right person to find who did this to Nitro.”
I looked at a few of the brothers who stood nearby and no one had anything negative to say. Reluctantly, I agreed. “Only until Pops is better.”
It wasn’t a far leap for me to move up. I was just below Phantom in the club hierarchy, and it was known he didn’t want to lead Rapid City, so I was more than happy to fill my pops’s huge role until he was healed and able to ride again.
Looking over the group, I gave my first order as acting President. “Bastards, I need two to stay behind and watch over Nitro while the rest head to the clubhouse. I want to have a meeting to decide where we need to start looking for the dead men walking.”
