Protect (12 page)

“We gotta go find her.” That was
Knuckles.

“Easy,” the Prez cautioned. “She’s probably
not going anywhere. I’d rather get a bit of a plan together. No
point going after her until we know what we can get from her.” He
nodded to Spaz. “What did she have on her when they busted
her?”

Spaz turned back to his keyboard, did a bit
more click-clacking, then the image on a monitor changed to what
looked like paperwork. They all leaned in. “Umm, looks like she had
Oxy. Wanna bet it was orange?”

“So the Rats deal Sunshine, too. Not just
G-Town. Plus they’re on the supplier end, like the Mad Gypsys were.
All working for the Galiendos. Which means they’re now working for
the Castillos.” Knuckles put it together, big picture-wise.

“So they have the Castillos and we have
Sachetti,” Fritter threw it out there. “What’s the big deal?”

“Those two don’t seem to be getting along
either,” Jayce mused just as his cell went off. He reached for it,
eyes still on Tiffany Pullman’s mug shot as he answered. “Yeah?”
There was a pause while he turned to Fritter and Knuckles with a
smile, even smacking Knuckles in the gut for emphasis. “Now? You’re
kidding. You’re headed for the hospital instead?”

Fritter frowned at Knuckles, who was nodding
now and grinning as well. “What is it?” he asked. “What’s going
on?”

“Yeah, we’ll head on over. You want me to go
by your house for you? She’s got a bag packed, right?”

That didn’t clear anything up.

“You got it. We’ll meet you there, don’t
worry about anything.” He snapped his phone shut.

“She’s gone into labor already?” Knuckles
jumped in. “Isn’t that early?”

“Only three weeks,” Jayce said dismissively,
heading out of the office and down the hallway.

“Shit, I hope she’s okay.”

Fritter frowned as his friend followed the
Prez down the hallway, then turned his confusion to Spaz. “Tell
Knuckles that gestation longer than thirty-seven weeks is likely
perfectly safe.” That was what the kid actually said.

“What the fuck?”

Spaz shook his head. “He’s worried about her.
Tell him that if she’s at thirty-seven weeks she
and
the
baby will be fine.”

“You’re so fucking weird,” Fritter muttered
as he left the office to follow his two brothers into the room.
Tank was already there, grinning like a schmuck as Jayce filled him
in.

“Already? Fuckin’ A!” the big guy bellowed.
Where in the world was all this family happiness coming from?
Admittedly, Fritter didn’t get it. “I gotta call Rose.”

“Fritter, you coming?”

He made a face at Knuckles. “Why? You think
she wants a bunch of guys hanging around the hospital while she has
a kid?”

Jayce laughed at that. “You kidding? Gertie’s
going to be fine. It’s Buck we gotta worry about. He already
sounded like he was going to throw up. I’m going by their house to
pick up her overnight bag. He told me where it is.”

“I’m with you, Prez,” Fritter said, instinct
telling him that Jayce expected that.

“We’ll wait at the hospital,” Knuckles
offered, gesturing to Tank, who was on his phone. “Spaz?!”

“What?” Their tech officer was right behind
them, he was just so quiet no one had noticed.

“Sorry dude. You’re on watch. Tims and Rusty
are making a sale, they’ll be back eventually. Tiny’s at the shop.
Call him if anything comes up, yeah?”

Spaz nodded. “Sure. Tell them I said hi?”

“Of course. We’ll keep you posted.” Then
Fritter was following his President out of the clubhouse and back
into the lot.

They took their bikes to the Buckingham’s
place. Jayce had a key, let himself in the front while Fritter
waited. He came out with a small-looking bag that he strapped to
his back fender.

“She’s a no-fuss kind of girl I guess,”
Fritter muttered, nodding at the bag. “She looks like the type that
would need a couple suitcases for a weekend.”

Jayce just grinned and fired up his bike,
then they were off again to Markham Medical Center. The Grainger’s
SUV was in the parking lot already, so Fritter followed Jayce up to
the admitting desk. The attending nurse pointed them towards
maternity. Fritter honestly had no idea where that ward was;
usually the Rebels were headed for the emergency room when they
came here.

There was a waiting room in the middle of the
ward, open hallways heading off from all four sides. With the vinyl
couches sat a coffee maker and vending machine, plus a TV that no
one was watching. Mickey and Jolene were sitting on sofas, holding
hands and talking, smiling at each other, as Fritter and Jayce
found them.

“How’s she doing?” Jayce asked. Jolene
reached for the overnight bag and he handed it over.

“She’s fine,” Mickey assured them, sharing a
grin with Jolene. “Buck’s another story.”

They all laughed, Fritter wasn’t part of it,
then Jolene was off to find Gertie and deliver the bag.

“They just got her to her room,” Mickey said.
“I’ve never seen Buck so impatient to be filling out forms. I think
Gertie’s doctor was already scared of him to begin with.”

“Did we miss anything yet?” The three turned
as Tank, Rose and Knuckles joined their group as well.

“Nope,” Mickey answered Knuckles. “They just
got her to her own room.”

“Can ... can we see her?” Rose asked softly,
that upper-crust accent sounding so out of place given the present
company. Fritter eyed her up, somewhat amused at how unsure she
seemed. She took her clothes off for a living, but she wasn’t a
bawdy, pushy, loud mouth. Like the accent, she was all class. And
gorgeous. Actually, he realized that when she’d spoken he got
hard.

Christ, he had no control.

“Jolene’s in with her and Buck right now,”
Mickey said, pointing down one of the hallways. “Room 318. I don’t
know how many are allowed in at once.”

“I’ll wait,” Rose declared happily, taking
Tank’s hand and tucking herself into his arm.

“Isn’t it early?” Knuckles asked, snapping
the joints of his fingers. He always did that when he was anxious,
but usually it was when he had some bloody business to take care
of. “Is she gonna be okay?”

“Oh yeah,” Fritter piped up, sinking into a
vinyl couch and putting a foot on the low table in front of it.
“Spaz said at thirty-seven weeks she and the baby would be
fine.”

“Spaz said that.” It wasn’t a question; it
was a statement questioning logic.

Fritter nodded up at Knuckles. “Yeah, he did.
So calm your jets, Uncle Knuckles. She’s going to be fine.”

Knuckles had to smile at that. “Okay,
then.”

-oOo-

Babies took a long fucking time, that’s what
he learned that day. For all the urgency getting to the hospital,
Fritter made three food runs with Jolene’s Escape just to keep
their crew fed. Other members like Tiny, Tims and Rusty cycled
through. Tiny dropped off flowers, which was a nice touch. Fritter
wished he’d thought of it, then stopped himself, wondering what the
fuck was wrong with him.

He and Knuckles found a football game on TV,
then realized it was Canadian. They watched anyway, just for lack
of anything else going on. Rose and Jolene took turns keeping Buck
and Gertie company until it really started.

And it was ...
real
. The tension was
jacked up a few notches, and as the room got quiet—thanks to
Knuckles turning down the TV volume—he heard
it
.

“Fuck that, turn it up,” Fritter muttered,
trying to grab the remote back as another shriek echoed down the
hallway.

“Don’t be a prick,” Knuckles told him,
getting up and taking the remote with him.

Fritter did not want to hear a woman
screaming from childbirth. He could think of few things
more
horrible than that. But there it was, Gertie’s shrieks filling the
silence and he had to close his eyes, lean over his own lap and
cover his head.

He’d heard her screaming like this before.
They
all
had. He had no idea how the fuck the rest of them
could stand the sound.

“It’s okay, Fritter,” Jolene assured him,
sitting next to him and rubbing his back. “Just breathe through
it.”

He gave a dry chuckle at that, then sat up
again. “Do we really have to be here for this? Surely they want to
be alone with the new baby once it comes.”

“I asked Gertie. She said it’s fine that
we’re here, she thinks it’s helping keep Buck calm.”

“It’s freakin’ me out,” he admitted.
“Thinkin’ about what’s goin’ on in there.”

“Then
don’t
. Jesus, Fritter. Don’t let
Buck hear how you’re thinking about his woman’s snatch and the
trauma it’s suffering.”

“Fuck, Jolene. Don’t be so fuckin’
graphic.”

“You started it.”

“I didn’t!”

Then she grinned and gave him a good jab in
arm, again, luckily not near the stitches.

He grinned back. He couldn’t help it; Jolene
was the coolest broad he knew. “I’m just glad I’m not Buck right
now.”

Now Jolene’s smile slipped. “I wish I was
going through it.”

Fuck, he always forgot the Graingers were
childless for biological reasons. “Shit, Jolene. I didn’t mean to
bring anythin’ up.”

“I know. I just ...” Jolene trailed off, eyes
darting over to her old man. Mickey and Tank were laughing with
Jayce, clustered around the coffee machine. “He’d be such a good
dad.”

Fritter put his arm around her. “Hey. This
little one’s goin’ to be so lucky. Mostly because Aunt Jolene is
fuckin’ awesome.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Are you kiddin’? Borrowed kids are the
shit, man. They’re cute, you have ‘em around for a while, then they
get sick or shit their pants or start screamin’ and you hand them
the fuck back.”

She made a horrible noise that was a little
bit of a sob but mostly a laugh, and that brought her old man over.
One look at his wife and Mickey knew what was up. He sat down on
the opposite side and huddled her in under his arm. “Oh Jo, baby.
I’m so sorry.”

Fritter and Mickey shared a sad smile over
Jolene’s head, and Fritter knew then it wasn’t Jolene that had the
problem that meant they couldn’t have kids. It was something to do
with Mickey. It was plain on the man’s face.

He bit back the urge to ask why they didn’t
just get a sperm donor. It wasn’t his business, but he was sure it
had something to do with the idea of raising someone else’s kid.
Maybe? He didn’t know. He’d never wanted to have kids with anyone.
He had no idea what it was like.

“Well, I’ll be.” The voice was slow to say it
but plenty loud, and they all looked up as Buck approached Tank,
smile a mile wide with a blue bundle in his arms. Rose stepped out
front, peering into the little one’s face and tugging the blanket
back.

“Oh my,” she whispered, her white smile
somehow brighter. “He’s so handsome. Already!”

Tank chuckled, wrapping his arms around her
as he peered over her shoulder. “Holy shit, Buck. You made a
baby.”

“I didn’t do much,” Buck admitted, turning as
Jolene and Mickey approached. “So, this is David Buckingham Junior.
Eight pounds, three ounces. Healthy lungs.”

They all laughed softly, and even Fritter had
to give in to his curiosity. Buck handed the baby over to Jolene,
and that’s when he took a good look. “Looks like an alien,” he
muttered.

“Never mind him,” Jolene cooed in that baby
voice all women pulled out in this situation. “He’s just jealous
he’s not the baby anymore.”

Fritter scoffed at that and the rest started
laughing, making the little one jump a bit.

Tank slapped Buck on the shoulder with one
big hand. “Congratulations, man.”

Buck was beaming, fucking
glowing
. His
face was going to stay like that if he didn’t stop, but Fritter
wouldn’t say anything. He liked seeing his friend this happy. “I
... I don’t even know what to say,” the poor bastard admitted,
rubbing his forehead.

Knuckles held his arms out for the baby,
which surprised Fritter but not Jolene. She handed David Junior
over and Knuckles settled the baby into his chest like a pro.
“How’s Gertie?”

“She’s good. She’s really good. Tired, but
happy.”

Rose stepped into Buck’s space and gave him a
hug. Then Jolene did the same thing. Mickey and Fritter shook his
hand with the prerequisite slap on the back. Then Buck collected
his son—such a weird word to use when thinking about Buck—and
headed back to his old lady.

“All right, let’s head back to the
clubhouse,” Jayce suggested, keeping his voice to a hospital level
of joviality. “We can still celebrate in their honor.”

One day with her kid living in her house and
Sharon understood why some animals ate or abandoned their young.
Three times Brayden had been asked to move his bags away from the
front door and, if the spirit moved him, unpack in the spare room
while he was at it.

At bedtime the duffels were still there, and
the next morning as she got ready for work they had yet to move.
She picked them up, opened his door and threw them on his bed,
while he was asleep in it. That caused an argument but too bad. She
had a full time job, she wasn’t Jasmine, and he’d be picking up his
own shit while he lived here. Then she threw out the precursor for
argument number two: his job search would also start that day. She
wasn’t wearing out shoe leather while he took a vacation. No
fucking way, he was earning his own spending money and putting some
away for the next school year, too.

The joys of sharing a house when you were so
used to having it all to yourself. With the shouting and slamming
doors even poor Earp was ready to abandon ship. He refused to come
inside, preferring the quiet of the yard. She negotiated silence in
exchange for a day outside and she was pretty sure he agreed.