Merry Blissmas (Biker Bitches 3)

Bliss jumped up when she saw Drake walking toward her in the waiting room. His face was pale and worried. She didn’t know how he had known where she was, and she didn’t care right then.

“Why are you here?” he asked. “Are you sick? What’s wrong?”

She grabbed his arm, frantically shoving him toward the woman behind the registration desk. “She won’t let me see Darcy. Make her let me see her.”

“You’re okay? It’s Darcy who’s sick?”

Bliss nodded frantically. “Make her let me see her. Please, Drake. I’ll make it up to you later. I promise…”

Drake came to a sudden stop. “Go sit down and let me talk to her.”

Bliss looked like she was about to argue, but she saw from his expression that it wouldn’t help. Blinking back her tears, she went to sit down, but he stopped her.

“Don’t ever think you have to bribe me like that ever again. If you want something from me, all you have to do is fucking ask. Got it?”

“Yes.”

Drake’s expression softened. “Now, go sit down and let me get you in to see her. Okay?”

“Okay.”

His confidence soothed her as no other reassurances could. She took a seat and watched as Drake talked to the woman. From her expression, Bliss could tell she wasn’t telling him shit.

Her hands gripped each other tightly to keep herself from going back to his side. Her resolve almost broke when he stepped away from the desk to take out his cell phone. He talked for several minutes before he handed his phone to the woman behind the desk.

Her attitude underwent a drastic change after whoever was on the other line spoke to her. She then handed the phone back to Drake, who returned it to his pocket.

He continued to stand there, talking to her for several seconds, before he walked away and came back to Bliss.

“Let’s go. She’s not here. They’ve airlifted her to the children’s hospital in Lexington.”

Bliss’s knees buckled but Drake caught her, steadying her.

“Why? What’s wrong with her?”

“Pneumonia.”

* * *

The drive to Lexington was three hours long. Bliss felt as if the trip were never-ending.

“You hungry?”

She felt too sick to her stomach to even think of food. “No. How did you get them to tell you?”

“I called her social worker, and because I have guardianship over Cal, they let me have the information.”

“Oh, God. Cal is going to be worried sick. Should we call?” Bliss reprimanded herself for not thinking of calling Cal. He deserved to know what was going on with his sister more than she did.

“I texted Rachel. She and Cash are driving him down. They’re not far behind us.”

“Her father?”

“I’ll call the prison that son of a bitch is in when we find out how she is.”

“She has to be bad to be airlifted out, doesn’t she?”

“Yes.”

A small sob escaped Bliss at his answer. “She was looking forward to Christmas.”

“She’s going to be all right, Bliss.”

Drake couldn’t understand, but she did. Sometimes, there just weren’t the happy endings you read about in books.

“How much longer?”

“Another thirty minutes.”

Bliss prayed for the little girl the whole way. It was only when they were entering the lobby that she thought to ask if they would be allowed to see her.

“I’ll get us in.”

Drake was as good as his word, although it took a frustrating hour before they were led to her room. Darcy was lying in a bed while a woman she didn’t recognize sat in a chair, watching the television on the wall.

She stood up when Bliss went to Darcy’s bedside.

“Who are you?”

“We’re family,” Drake answered. “You can call your supervisor. Sit outside. If we need you, we’ll let you know.”

“I can’t leave her side,” the woman argued.

“Call your supervisor.”

Bliss didn’t care if the woman stayed or left as long as they let her see Darcy.

The little girl was hooked up to an IV pump. Her face was flushed, and her cheeks were tear-streaked.

“Darcy?” Bliss whispered. She didn’t want to wake her, but she wanted the girl to know she wasn’t alone anymore.

“Miss Bliss?” Darcy’s eyes fluttered open.

“Hi, sweetie. I heard you were sick, so I want to stay with you until you feel better. Is that okay?”

She nodded. “I’m afraid. The needles hurt.”

Bliss had to bend lower to hear her whispered words.

“They’re giving you medicine to make you feel better.” God, how she was praying the life-saving drugs were working.

Her hand with the IV lifted to touch the side of Bliss’s head. “Are you sick?”

“No. I just got a haircut.”

“I don’t like it.”

“It’ll grow back.”

“It has to grow back a lot.” Darcy’s eyes were transfixed on the missing hair.

Bliss touched the little girl’s soft cheek. “I know.”

“Do you think Santa can find me here?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

Bliss hid her anguish, remembering clearly what Darcy had told her what she wanted for Christmas. The girl was doomed for disappointment wherever she was going to be Christmas morning.