Making the Break (Beating the Biker 2)

“I’m Anthony’s father.”

The doctor blinked. “He mentioned a... Chrissy. Asked if she was here.”

“That’s me,” she replied, stepping forward.

“He’d like to see you.”

“But what about him? He’s okay? If he’s talking, he’s gotta be okay, right?” asked Mr. Parks.

“The surgery went well. He’ll need recovery and physical therapy, but he should be fine.”

“Can I see him?” said the woman next to Saks’ father. “I’m his mother.”

The doctor looked around the waiting room and pursed his lips.

“In a bit. He did ask to see this young lady here, so let’s start with that. And his immediate family. But the rest of you should go home. He’s still in recovery and shouldn’t have visitors. He’s had a concussion and now a gunshot wound.” He shook his head and sighed. “Don’t you people ever stop?”

“We keep you in business,” said Oakie. “One of us will hang around. He’s our brother, and obviously someone needs to stand watch over him.” He glared at the Roccos and the Serafinis in the room, the faces of whom drew up in anger at the insult.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” spit Vittorio Rocco. “We’re his family.”

“And he’s our brother,” said Oakie. The rest of the Spawn lined up next to Oakie, forming a wall of biker muscle.

“Enough,” said the doctor. “As I said: all of you, out of here, or I’m calling security.”

“Come,” said Chrissy’s mother. “Vittorio, Carmello, Maria, to our house while we wait for news.”

“That’s generous, daughter,” said Pandolfo. “We’ll eat, have some wine. And relax and talk.”

“Sounds like a party.” Chrissy snorted. “I’m going to talk to Saks.” She glared at the doctor. “Can you get me out of this room?”

The doctor looked happy to help her.

She flounced down the halls of the hospital, following the doctor as he took the winding hallways to the recovery room. It took everything not to gasp when she stepped in. Saks was hooked up to tubes and wires, and lay very still in bed with his eyes closed. “I thought you said he was okay.”

“Yes. But this was major surgery. He’s going to be okay. Just needs to rest.” He stood as she turned to stare again at Saks. “I’ve got other patients. If you have any questi

ons you can ask the nurse.”

“Okay,” said Chrissy. For the first time in her life she was totally at a loss as to what to do. Saks was hurt, all because her crazy family got on board with an insane scheme to get her married into the Rocco family. Marcus said it wasn’t Serafini men who did this, but who? His own family wouldn’t try to hurt Saks, would they? It was all damn strange and she couldn’t parse any of it.

She walked toward Saks, quietly and scared. Tentatively, she reached out and touched his leg.

Saks’ eyes fluttered open and he smiled dozily. He shifted and groaned. “Hey...”

“Hey,” she replied weakly.

A nurse came in and checked Saks’ stats. Chrissy stood silently, watching her. “You did a good job,” the nurse said. “The EMTs said you put the compression on his shoulder and slowed the blood loss.”

“Yeah,” she said. What could she say? That pressing one of Saks’ towels to his shoulder was the least she could do?

When the nurse left again, she asked Saks quietly, “How do you feel?”

“Pretty doped up.” He grinned sloppily. “So, pretty good considering I had a bullet lodged in my shoulder.”

“Yeah. That guy was an ass for shooting.” She couldn’t stand seeing him like this.

“Tomorrow,” he fought to keep his eyes open, or to stop from rolling, “will be a different story when they put me on a morphine drip.” He moved the hand on his uninjured shoulder. “Or I’m on it now. And they take if off. It’s different... drugs are wack.”