Jack (The Kings of Mayhem MC Tennessee 1)

“Fuck the harvest, you need to get to the hospital.”

“No.”

“You might need surgery, Jack.”

He looks at me with pained eyes, his face draining of color. “Call. Doc. Now.”

Panicking, I hastily bring up Doc’s number and hit the call button. “You’d better not die on me,” I say as I wait for Doc to answer.

It takes him three rings before he picks up. “Yeah, Prez—”

“He’s been shot,” I blurt out.

Doc pauses. “Jack?”

“Yes, you have to come quickly. He’s bleeding from a bullet wound. He said to call you because he doesn’t want an ambulance.” The thought that I might lose Jack suddenly hits me when I see the growing red stain on his T-shirt. “Oh fuck, there’s so much blood.”

“Where are you?”

“On his driveway.” Looking pale, Jack rolls forward and collapses onto the grass, his eyes half closing. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.”

“What’s happening now?”

“He’s unconscious.”

“Is he breathing?”

I lean down and hover over Jack’s mouth, feeling for his breath. “Yes, but only just. Please hurry. He doesn’t look so good, Doc.”

“Can you see the wound?”

I slide Jack’s cut to the side and push his blood-drenched T-shirt further up his chest until I see the bullet hole. Blood is boiling out of it like a geyser.

“Can you see it?” Doc repeats.

“Y-yes…”

“Okay, tell me where it is?”

“It’s on his right side about two inches from the middle of his chest and about a couple of inches above his nipple.”

Doc pauses, and his silence speaks volumes.

“That’s bad, isn’t it?” The alarm in my voice a dead giveaway.

“Don’t panic, sweetheart, you’re doing real well, and we’re going to get him through this, okay?” Doc is as cool as a cucumber while I’m holding my breath, certain I’ll collapse into a panicky stupid mess the moment fresh oxygen hits my brain. “Now, I need you to place a palm over the wound and apply some pressure. You got me? We need to slow the bleeding. Can you do that for me?”

I do as he says, but when I press down on the wound, blood rises like dam water between my fingers and dribbles down my pale skin in rivers of vibrant color.

“There’s so much blood,” I whisper.

“There will be, but you can’t let that distract you. I need you to keep pressure on the wound.”

I nod, even though no one can see me, and suck back my tears. “I will.”

“Is he still breathing?” Doc asks.

Again, I nod. “Yes…”

“It’s going to be okay, I’m on my way. I’m in the van we take on medic rides, so I’ve got everything I need to help him.”

“Okay.” I suck in a deep breath. “Doc..”

“Yeah?”

“Is Jack going to die?”

“Not on my shift, darlin’.” He sounds so confident, it takes the edge off my fear, but only just. “Now, I’m handing the phone over to Dakota Joe so you can explain to him what happened while I get what I need to help Jack.”

There is a slight pause before Dakota Joe’s voice sounds in my ear. “Bronte? We’re heading for the van and almost on our way. Now tell me what the fuck happened.”

“I don’t know what happened. He pulled into the driveway and collapsed. He said he’s been shot, but that’s all he said about it before he passed out.”

“He didn’t mention who did this?”

I know why he’s asking.

If Jack doesn’t make it, they’ll want to know who to go after for payback.

“No… yes… I don’t know… I’m sorry, it all happened so fast.” I squeeze my eyes closed. Get it together, Bronte. I suck in a deep breath. “No, he didn’t say who did it.”

Dakota Joe’s voice is soothing. “Hold on tight, sweetheart. It won’t take us long to get there.”

My tears take over, and I let his cell drop to the grass.

Keeping my hand pressed over the wound, I will myself to stay calm.

Please don’t die on me.

Instead of crying, I start to talk to Jack in the calmest voice I can muster. I tell him to keep fighting. I tell him he’s going to survive and that when he’s feeling better, he’s going to take me out to dinner as thanks for making me sit here with my hands pressed into his chest as I try to keep all the blood draining from his body. And he isn’t going to take me to one of those cheap places either, I say to him. I want a fancy restaurant with all the trimmings.

The minutes tick by, painfully slow, but I keep talking to him. Keep willing him to live, while I keep pressing my hand down on the hole in his chest, all the time thinking how ironic it is that something so small can be so devastating to the human body.

When Doc and Dakota Joe finally arrive, they quickly get Jack into the back of the ambulance, and while Dakota drives, Doc works on Jack as I watch on helplessly beside him.