The Biker's Lucky Charm (Royal Bastards MC: Charleston, WV 5)

The rain is coming down now in heavy sheets as I turn left to take Vince back to the clubhouse. I can hardly make out a thing even though the wipers are on high and my bright lights are on. I edge forward taking the turn slow. I’ve always hated driving in the rain. Out of nowhere we’re struck on the driver’s side. Something thumps across the hood as I slam on the brakes.

Vince knocks his head against the dashboard with a curse as we roll to a stop. “The fuck was that?”

I glance out the driver’s side window not seeing anything. “Maybe I hit a deer or something.” I roll down my window partially and peer into the darkness seeing a motorcycle I don’t recognize illuminated in my headlights. “Oh my God.” My hand files to my mouth. “It was person.” I turn my emergency flashers on. “Use my phone. Call 911.” I throw my door open getting soaked as I run around the front looking for the rider.

I find him on the opposite side sprawled out on the roadway. My heart shatters as I sink to the asphalt next to the body. “Link,” I cry out and touch his clammy face.

Vince jumps out saying something, but I can’t hear anything he’s stating. All I hear is the rain coming down. I got to lift Link’s head to my lap when Vince stops me with a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t move him. We don’t know the extent of his injuries. Dispatch has someone in route.” He squats next to me rubbing his forehead. “Is that?”

I gaze at him in complete shock unable to speak as I hold my fingers up feeling the sticky warmth coating my fingers where I touched the back of my husband’s head.

“Pam,” Vince barks. “Snap out of it.” His fingers wave in front of me. “Hey.” He shakes my shoulder. “Have you drank anything tonight?”

I shake my head. “What?”

“Have you been drinking?”

“What’s that have to do with anything? My husband could be dead and it’s my fault. It’s my fault.” My body shakes as the cold and wet of the rain seeps through to the bone along with the weight of reality. My teeth chatter as my body trembles with worry.

“Babe.” I press my lips to Link’s hoping by some miracle that luck shines down on us and saves my husband. “Open your eyes, honey. Brant, please. Come back to me. Come back.” I press my fingers to his neck in search of a pulse as sirens howl in the distance.

**

Someone wrapped me in an itchy blanket. I can barely hold the cup of coffee I think one of the police officers gave me.

“We really need to check you over. You could have whiplash,” a nurse tells me, softly.

“Not until I know he’s okay.”

“At least let us find you something dry to wear. You’re soaked through.”

“Fine.” I only agree because maybe I can think clearly once my body regulates itself back to room temperature again.

The older woman gives me a hospital gown and socks. I sit on the edge of the exam table once I’ve peeled my wet clothes off and changed into the dry. They drew my blood when I first arrived. I guess the cops wanted to make sure I’m not under the influence. I know they are only doing their job. I have nothing to hide. I told them I had a few sips of beer earlier when we first arrived at the clubhouse.

Vince is getting his head looked at and I’m not sure where Link is. They aren’t telling me anything. All I know is that he is alive and breathing. For now it has to be enough. I can’t afford to fall apart.

Until I hear him cry.

“Mom, mom,” echoes down the hall, and I know that call. It’s Connor. I rush into the corridor head snapping back and forth both ways listening. A mother knows the sound of her child.

Zoe walks out of an exam room with my boy on her hip as he chews on his fingers with tears coming down his cheeks.

“Zoe,” I call out with a slight crack in my voice from all my tears.

She spins around at the sound of my voice, eyes widening as she takes in my appearance. I catch a glimpse of myself in the reflection through a glass partition. Sopping wet hair dripping down my back. Eyeliner smeared under my eyes. Shivering in a hospital gown. I look like something washed up out of a well from a horror flick.

“Jesus, Pam. What happened? I’ve been calling. Link said he couldn’t get you on the phone, he was supposed to meet me but never showed.”

“Meet you?” I ask but then see the stitches on my baby’s head. “What happened?” I reach for Connor.

“He hit his head. Gave me and Kimber quite a scare. He’s a tough boy though.” She hands Connor to me and I kiss his cheek, hugging him tight as he whimpers. “Are you okay?”

I shake my head and bite back my tears. “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you, but there was an accident Link he’s...”

Her face pales. “He’s what, Pam? Where’s my brother?”

“I’m right here,” his gravelly voice croaks from his wheelchair as he is wheeled toward us with a thick white gauze wrapped around his head.