Withstanding Me
Page 17
“ZZ, go to the hospital. I’ll take Tatiana back to the compound.” Shadow says, standing next to me.
I rub my temples before sliding my shades back over my eyes. Too many emotions flying across my eyes right now for all to see. My daughter grabs my arm, forcing my attention to her. “Go Dad, I’ll be fine. She needs someone.”
I embrace my daughter one more time before heading out. I feel for Braxxon having to clean up this shit. I hate talking with cops, but then again, who doesn’t? Not one person utters a word to me or looks in my direction as I leave the ma and pop restaurant. Not even the cops. I wonder what facial expression is showing on my face. It must be pretty f**king scary if they won’t even look at me.
I reach for my cross and grip it tightly as I straddle m’lady. I’m not all that religious, but I do believe in a higher power. That’s all I’m gonna say. The entire ride to the hospital goes by in a blur. I don’t know if it was my mind or the speed I was going, but something was going a hundred miles an hour. I guess I’ll say it was both, my mind and my bike.
When I walk in to the hospital, my entire body shudders as I spot the old receptionist. If I have to flirt with her to get the information I need, I’m gonna be pissed.
I clear my throat before I speak, lift my shades up, and decide to take a direct approach first to see where that gets me. “Hi, I’m looking for the woman they just brought in by ambulance. Her name is Apple Martini.”
The gray haired woman looks up and smiles, her stained false teeth straight horrifying the f**k outta me.
“Are you a relative?” she rasps.
“No ma’am,” I say honestly and nicely. The older ones like respect. “But I’m the only family she’s got.”
She smiles even wider before typing on her computer.
“Ah, yes. They’ve already schedule her for surgery. She’s being prepped.”
The old woman grabs a brochure looking thing and uses a pen to draw a few lines. When she hands it to me, I feel almost like a dumbass that I thought it was a brochure. It’s a f**king hospital map.
“Follow that path I drew you young man. It will getcha where you need to go.”
“Thank you,” I tell her before walking away. I’m not usually such a thankful person. But today I am. Storm saved my daughter’s life and this old woman treated me like a normal person.
Another reason to be thankful added to today’s ever-growing f**king list is because if that old receptionist hadn’t drawn a follow-me-idiot line, my ass would’ve gotten lost. Two elevator rides and about ten hallways later, I reach the nurses station in the O.R. wing.
Dammit! It’s a guy nurse.
“I’m looking for information on my friend Apple Martini,” I say heavily, almost too forceful.
“Just one moment,” he says, not even looking up at me.
“Listen, I don’t have one f**king moment. She’s someone I care about and she just took some glass in the f**kin leg savin my daughter,” I grit out.
Douchebag looks up rather angrily, but that look fades as he takes in my appearance. Yeah, that’s right you little f**ker. I’m a biker and yes, you probably recognize my cut.
“Well hello, darlin,” he whistles.
What. The. Fuck! I don’t f**kin think so. Oh hell no!
“Stop lookin at me like I’m your favorite piece of f**kin’ candy and give me the f**kin information I asked for.” I snap out.
I’m not homophobic but damn, this is his job, and he’s sitting here bluntly checking me out.
Nothing is detouring this idiot from staring at me. I really hate to get mean right now. Just not in the damn mood.
“Look man, I’m flattered truly. But I don’t swing the corndog way, okay. I love regular hot dog buns if you get what I’m saying.”
There. That was nice enough, right?
He tsk’s a few times. “What a shame that is.” His eyes still roaming my body.
“The information,” I growl. I’ve lost my patience. I’ve never really had any to begin with. If I weren’t being a thankful f**king person today, I would’ve already snatched this little prick up by the collar and smashed his head in the desk by now.
He clucks his tongue, writing on a post it note, a bright pink one I might add, and then hands it to me.
“Go to the room I wrote down and wait for her to come out of surgery. They usually make you wait in the waiting room, but I wouldn’t get any work done with your fine ass sitting there.”
And I wouldn’t have any patience with you staring at me either f**knut.
I don’t say thank you. I might’ve said thank you if the bastard wasn’t hitting on me. I mean I’m a biker, yeah, I get that, but even I know a f**king hospital is a shit place to be flirtin. People die and shit in here. I can feel his eyes on my damn ass as I walk away towards the room he wrote down.
I shut the door and leave the lights off as I enter the room, and take a seat in the green plastic chair in the corner. I don’t see a bed in here, and I remember ma’s stay at the hospital; they wheeled her everywhere in that damn thing when she had surgery. She had to have her appendix removed. Fun time that was. Dad was a mess; he didn’t calm down until the doctor had told him how many people have it done a year. After that, he finally breathed.
I must be exhausted with the clock on the wall ticking loudly; I start to dose off in the cold hospital chair.
***
Storm
I rub my temples before sliding my shades back over my eyes. Too many emotions flying across my eyes right now for all to see. My daughter grabs my arm, forcing my attention to her. “Go Dad, I’ll be fine. She needs someone.”
I embrace my daughter one more time before heading out. I feel for Braxxon having to clean up this shit. I hate talking with cops, but then again, who doesn’t? Not one person utters a word to me or looks in my direction as I leave the ma and pop restaurant. Not even the cops. I wonder what facial expression is showing on my face. It must be pretty f**king scary if they won’t even look at me.
I reach for my cross and grip it tightly as I straddle m’lady. I’m not all that religious, but I do believe in a higher power. That’s all I’m gonna say. The entire ride to the hospital goes by in a blur. I don’t know if it was my mind or the speed I was going, but something was going a hundred miles an hour. I guess I’ll say it was both, my mind and my bike.
When I walk in to the hospital, my entire body shudders as I spot the old receptionist. If I have to flirt with her to get the information I need, I’m gonna be pissed.
I clear my throat before I speak, lift my shades up, and decide to take a direct approach first to see where that gets me. “Hi, I’m looking for the woman they just brought in by ambulance. Her name is Apple Martini.”
The gray haired woman looks up and smiles, her stained false teeth straight horrifying the f**k outta me.
“Are you a relative?” she rasps.
“No ma’am,” I say honestly and nicely. The older ones like respect. “But I’m the only family she’s got.”
She smiles even wider before typing on her computer.
“Ah, yes. They’ve already schedule her for surgery. She’s being prepped.”
The old woman grabs a brochure looking thing and uses a pen to draw a few lines. When she hands it to me, I feel almost like a dumbass that I thought it was a brochure. It’s a f**king hospital map.
“Follow that path I drew you young man. It will getcha where you need to go.”
“Thank you,” I tell her before walking away. I’m not usually such a thankful person. But today I am. Storm saved my daughter’s life and this old woman treated me like a normal person.
Another reason to be thankful added to today’s ever-growing f**king list is because if that old receptionist hadn’t drawn a follow-me-idiot line, my ass would’ve gotten lost. Two elevator rides and about ten hallways later, I reach the nurses station in the O.R. wing.
Dammit! It’s a guy nurse.
“I’m looking for information on my friend Apple Martini,” I say heavily, almost too forceful.
“Just one moment,” he says, not even looking up at me.
“Listen, I don’t have one f**king moment. She’s someone I care about and she just took some glass in the f**kin leg savin my daughter,” I grit out.
Douchebag looks up rather angrily, but that look fades as he takes in my appearance. Yeah, that’s right you little f**ker. I’m a biker and yes, you probably recognize my cut.
“Well hello, darlin,” he whistles.
What. The. Fuck! I don’t f**kin think so. Oh hell no!
“Stop lookin at me like I’m your favorite piece of f**kin’ candy and give me the f**kin information I asked for.” I snap out.
I’m not homophobic but damn, this is his job, and he’s sitting here bluntly checking me out.
Nothing is detouring this idiot from staring at me. I really hate to get mean right now. Just not in the damn mood.
“Look man, I’m flattered truly. But I don’t swing the corndog way, okay. I love regular hot dog buns if you get what I’m saying.”
There. That was nice enough, right?
He tsk’s a few times. “What a shame that is.” His eyes still roaming my body.
“The information,” I growl. I’ve lost my patience. I’ve never really had any to begin with. If I weren’t being a thankful f**king person today, I would’ve already snatched this little prick up by the collar and smashed his head in the desk by now.
He clucks his tongue, writing on a post it note, a bright pink one I might add, and then hands it to me.
“Go to the room I wrote down and wait for her to come out of surgery. They usually make you wait in the waiting room, but I wouldn’t get any work done with your fine ass sitting there.”
And I wouldn’t have any patience with you staring at me either f**knut.
I don’t say thank you. I might’ve said thank you if the bastard wasn’t hitting on me. I mean I’m a biker, yeah, I get that, but even I know a f**king hospital is a shit place to be flirtin. People die and shit in here. I can feel his eyes on my damn ass as I walk away towards the room he wrote down.
I shut the door and leave the lights off as I enter the room, and take a seat in the green plastic chair in the corner. I don’t see a bed in here, and I remember ma’s stay at the hospital; they wheeled her everywhere in that damn thing when she had surgery. She had to have her appendix removed. Fun time that was. Dad was a mess; he didn’t calm down until the doctor had told him how many people have it done a year. After that, he finally breathed.
I must be exhausted with the clock on the wall ticking loudly; I start to dose off in the cold hospital chair.
***
Storm
