Page 5 of Holly's Valentine Vow

“Holly… there’s no other way to tell you this, but someone hit him when he was pulling into the driveway. He’s on his way to the hospital, and I need to get you there,” he says. I find myself engulfed in his arms, and I don’t give that first fuck that I’m now covered in Rebel’s blood as well. I need this connection to my grandfather and from the look on his face, he needs it as well.

“Then let’s go,” I decree, pulling back to grab my purse and coat. I can put it on once I’m situated in his truck, but I don’t wanna wait to put it on.

I jerk out of my memories and look at the doctors as they introduce themselves to Rebel and begin to detail his injuries. I should probably take notes or something so there’s no confusion later down the road when it comes to all of his injuries and diagnoses, because I know he’s still pretty drugged up from his extensive surgery, but I need to be touching him to assure myself he’s alive. If they weren’t either bandaged or covered with IVs and those plastic bracelets the hospital puts on their patients, I’d hold his hand, but right now, it’s out of the question.

The waiting room is full of his club brothers clamoring for me to come and update them, but until now, I haven’t had anything to tell them. We’re all in the same boat, praying that whatever damage he’s sustained won’t be detrimental to his future.

“All of this information I’m about to share with you can be found on the patient portal,” the first surgeon kindly says when I look at him in confusion. “I know it’s a lot to take in right now, but I must say, Mr. Sherman, you’re fortunate to still be alive.”

Rebel’s eyes meet mine and then he turns back to the doctor and says, “I know. Thank you both, as well as whoever helped keep me on this side of the grass.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, I giggle then say, “That’s something Pappy says all the time.”

Rebel’s lips quirk in the smile I’ve grown to love as he replies, “Sounds like Paul.”

Squeezing his shoulder, I look at both the doctors and ask, “Can his club brothers come in and see him? They won’t stay long, but they need to put their eyes on him for themselves. Simply going out there and telling them won’t be good enough.”

The doctors look at each other and nod before the taller one looks at the nurse and states, “Go inform the bikers who are in the waiting room that they can come in for ten minutes. Mr. Sherman needs his rest, but I know it’s important for family members to see for themselves.” When she goes to protest since we’re in ICU and there are limitations on visitors, he holds up his hand and says, “We’re bending the rules. We only have one other patient up here and I don’t foresee them breaking into a party atmosphere.”

“Fine, I’ll go get them,” the nurse huffs out, tossing a glare over her shoulder as she walks out the door.

“We’ll wait to see if they have any questions for us,” Doctor Number Two says.

I really should focus better to get their names, especially since they’re embroidered onto their coats, but my mind is ping-ponging all over the place and I can’t think straight. The door opens and I watch as Rebel’s MC brothers quietly walk in. Well, as quietly as a bunch of hulking, muscular men can move when they’re wearing motorcycle boots.

Ash, his VP, walks over next to me and leans in then says, “We’re checking into it, Rebel. Paul already gave Data the feed from his cameras.” Rebel nods but doesn’t say anything, probably because the doctors are still in attendance.

“Does anyone have questions for us?” Tall Doctor asks, looking around the room.

“How long will he have to be here?” Ash questions. “And what kind of accommodations do y’all think he’s gonna need for home when he’s discharged?”

“We’d like to keep him for about a week for observation and to ensure no infection shows up and hinders his recovery. Plus, there’s a slight risk for blood clots to form because of where the breaks in his legs were as well. We do have him on IV antibiotics as a precaution, of course, but if something shows signs of becoming infected, we’ll culture that area to make sure we’re giving him the correct medications,” Doctor Number Two replies.

“As far as accommodations, he’ll likely go to rehab for a few weeks after he’s released while he undergoes physical and occupational therapy to strengthen his muscles and stabilize his ambulation so he can single-handedly support himself where his legs were fractured. He’ll still have the casts to protect his bones as they and his tissue heals, but they’ll teach him how to properly use a wheelchair, make sure wherever he lives has certain itemsto assist him with his independence as well as safety, and develop an at-home plan. We’re also going to have home health care, physical therapy, and occupational therapy added to his orders once he’s released from rehab.

“Holly, your house has wider doorways than the clubhouse,” Ash states.

“And we can add a temporary ramp to your front and back porches so he can get in and out of the house for a change of scenery, since he’ll probably only leave the premises while he’s healing when he has doctor appointments to follow-up on shit,” Data adds.

“Sounds like you’ve got a good support team in place, Mr. Sherman,” Tall Doctor says.

What impresses me the most is neither of the physicians are showing any signs of discomfort with being surrounded by a group of bikers, nor are they treating them in a condescending manner. I ask, “Is the nurse who just left the only one on staff up here?” When Doctor Two raises his brow at me in confusion, I continue. “I don’t like how she treated Rebel’s brothers a few minutes ago and her hesitancy in bringing them to the room, so I don’t want her taking care of my old man. He needs people who don’t care who he is or the fact that he wears a patch on his back, they just want him to get better.”

“We can arrange that for you,” Doctor Number Two states as he looks down at his tablet and makes a note. “Consider it done. If there’s nothing else, we’ll leave you to visit but remember, ten minutes. Holly, we’ll get a recliner in here that’s more comfortable than the chair since I don’t expect you’ll want to go anywhere.”

I grin then reply, “Nope. My grandfather is bringing me a bag in a little bit so I can get cleaned up.”

Once the doctors leave, the rest of the brothers crowd around. Ash looks at me and says, “Normally, you wouldn’t be involved in a church meeting, but I’m not gonna ask you to leave his side. However, you cannot repeat anything you hear, Holly. Do you understand?”

I briefly wonder if these men have a secret handbook on how to change the tone of their voice to one of sheer power and authority, because Ash normally doesn’t sound like he does right now. Instead, I nod then follow it up with actual words. “Not gonna say anything and I appreciate that you’re letting me stay.” Rebel gives me a proud grin. By now, he knows that my loyalties are to him and his brothers. The fact that I just reiterated that to the men he surrounds himself with is a prideful moment for him.

As if they could’vereallymade me leave my man’s side. Pssh. Don’t they know I’m the granddaughter of a woman who taught me how to stand my ground?

“Prez, like I said, we’ve got the camera feed downloaded and Data’s going to sit down in his cave and go through the reels one minute at a time. Once he gets a lock on the vehicle that hit you, he’s gonna check the town’s CCTV cameras to see if he can pick up anything else, like the driver, the license plate, that sort of thing. We should hopefully have some information pretty quickly.”

My mind conjures up the thought that it’d be nice if he could track the vehicle through town and find out where the person lives. But since I’m not a member of the club, I keep my lips sealed and let them discuss things. After all, they have more experience with these situations than I do.

“Good,” Rebel rasps out, his throat still gravely from being intubated. “Not that I don’t already suspect the answer, but how’s my bike?”

---