With another yawn, I thought of what a debacle it had been trying to sew him up. He hadn't put up much of struggle once he was restrained, but I was so hell-bent on making sure the he stayed as pretty as I found him that it took longer than it should have.
It had taken Tumbler and a couple of my bouncers to hold him down once I started swabbing his cuts and punctures wounds. I had tried to tell him that it would hurt and offered him some vodka to numb the pain, but he had declined saying he could take it. The first swab wasn't so bad, he had said. The second one was where he gave me a dangerous stare. As soon as I placed the third on one of his larger wounds, was the moment he let out a pained grunt. That's when I nodded at Tumbler and she left to get some back up.
The three of them had held him down on my favorite pool table in the backroom, while I continued to swab as many cuts as I could find. I wanted to make sure that nothing would get infected and get a better idea of what I could actually sew up myself and what would heal on its own.
"He's gonna need to go to the hospital eventually," Tumbler said, as I sat down on the table next to him and began to stitch him up. "He's lost a lot of blood."
"Fuck. Has anyone seen my glasses?" I asked, ignoring her statement. "I think they're in my office; be a doll and grab them for me?"
She had rolled her eyes, but nodded and did as I asked. I reached into my black jeans pocket and pulled out a hair tie, slipped it around a makeshift ponytail I made, and secured it.
"Thanks kiddo," I said, taking my glasses from Tumbler and sliding them over my eyes. "Hold him still. I don't know how deep these really are so I need to be careful when I..." my voice trailed off as I leaned over and placed a hand against his side. Swing grunted again when I slid the needle under his skin and began sewing him back together as best as I could.
It had taken me three hours. Not because of all of the wounds he had, but because I wanted to make sure there would be as minimal scarring as possible as well as fastest healing time. This war with Tidals & Anchors was coming whether I wanted it to or not. Helping Swing, getting him out of the torture room we had found him in, branded us enemies of Pardon and I knew he wouldn't hesitate to come knocking down my door once he figured it out. For that reason alone, I needed Swing to be as close to one hundred percent as possible. Stilettos & Steele was full of dangerous and cutthroat beautiful bitches, but it wouldn't hurt to have a Rader on our side.
Especially if he's anything like his old man, I thought glancing at him and yawning again.
I had heard some great stories about Leon Rader, and his way of running Tidals & Anchors was honestly what I tried to fashion myself after with my ladies in my MC. Do what you have to do to get the job done and do what you have to do to get out in one piece. That was one of the biggest things I had admired most about him based on the stories Warner had told me growing up.
"I'm locking up for the night Alaska," Deacon, my head bouncer said poking his head into my office. "You gonna be alright with him or do you want me to move him?"
I smiled and him and shook my head, "I'll be fine. I've got the great equalizer in my top drawer."
He shook his head and chuckled, bidding me a good night before he disappeared. I glanced at Swing again and wondered if I'd be able to leave him here without anything happening to him. I really wanted to go home but I felt like it was my duty to keep his ass alive until he could do it for himself.
With a sigh, I leaned back in my chair and kicked my legs up onto my desk. I tried to ask myself if what I was doing was the right thing. It would be so easy to end this war before it started by putting a bullet into him while he slept. What would Leon do? I wondered rubbing my eyes tiredly. Probably not kill his son.
I dropped my legs from the table top and crossed my arms on it, letting my head rest on them. The last time I glanced at the clock was just before Deacon had come in and it said 2:02 am. Chances were that Swing was asleep for the rest of the evening, so I just had to make the best of my current situation and pray I didn't wake up with a stiff neck. I closed my eyes and let the sleep take me.
I half expected my dreams to be restless. What, with having put down one of my own girls and having to stitch up an angry giant, but I actually was relieved that I hadn’t dreamt anything at all. Chances where I would’ve had some crazy visions of being chased by white masks or something.
“Alaska!”
“What?!” I sat up and gasped, as the door to my office banged open and Tumbler yelled my name. I was so startled at first that the sudden movement almost caused me to fall out of my chair. “What time is it?”
“Jesus Christ,” Swing grumbled from him place on the couch.
“Alaska, they’re here,” she said urgently as she shut the door behind her.
“Who’s here?” I asked, wiping the small amount of drool off the side of my mouth. I was so groggy and so tired that I wanted to shove Swing off the couch and go back to sleep.
“Pardon and Tidals & Anchors,” she hissed, flipping open the blinds behind me.
Swing looked at her, then me, before he struggled to his feet and came over to look out of the blinds with us. When I got this place, I had a window set up in my office so that I would be able to see into the gentleman’s club whenever I needed to, but I primarily kept it closed because I wasn’t a fan of watching naked women writhing all over the place. I was a fan of the monetary intake.
“Motherfucker,” he said through grit teeth. “Give me a gun.”
“You can barely walk,” I reminded him rolling my eyes.
“I don’t need to be able to walk to put a bullet in his fucking head,” he replied angrily.
I got to my feet and smoothed my hair back, redoing my bedhead ponytail and sighed. Reaching down, I straightened my vest out and pulled up on my jeans.
“You’re staying in here,” I said, sticking a finger in his chest. “If he tries to leave this room, this is where I want you to shoot him,” I said to Tumbler, before I walked out and closed the door securely behind me.
I walked down the narrow hallway with my head held high. Nothing about Pardon really scared me and I wasn’t going to let him think he knew more than he actually did. Pardon had never come into my establishment before so it was no coincidence.
“Well, look at what the cat dragged in,” I remarked, walking toward the empty stage where they were waiting. Pardon had been sitting on the edge of the stage, but pushed himself to his feet when I approached him with my arms open.