When I step outside, I see Smoke coming up the stairs. A bright-eyed, smiling Sasha in his arms, chatting away and seeming completely unaffected by the event.
“Hey, baby girl,” I choke out, emotions hitting me like a freight train. I know Smoke said that she was fine, but I’ve quickly learned that until you see them with your own eyes, you don’t get true clarity or a sense of calm.
“Daddy Gabe,” she squeals, and fuck, don’t I just cave? Part of me thinks that I should correct her. Tell her that I’m not her daddy. But fuck, it sounds so right and fits perfectly because she is mine, and I want to take care of her, love her and be everything a dad should be.
When I hold out my arms to her, she jumps into them. I want to hold her tight, bawl my fucking eyes out, if truth be known, but she soon puts a stop to my pussy assed breakdown when she puts her hands on my cheeks and looks me right in the eyes.
“I’m hungry. Where’s Orio?” and then, without taking a breath. “Can I watch Bubble Guppies?
At that very moment, between the tears of emotional laughter, I have clarity.
From the very second I signed those custody papers, I knew that I would always protect Sasha from everything dark that comes hand in hand with being the VP of the Young Outlaws. But now I know my vow isn’t exclusive to the little girl. Oriana is important to us too, which means only one thing, she will have my protection too.
ChapterTwenty-Five
Oriana
“All your vitals are fine except your blood pressure is a little low, but that’s only to be expected after a bleed,” Doc tells me while placing his medical equipment back into his backpack. I was expecting to see one of those old fashion black leather bags that you see in the movies, but I guess this is Nevada, and not out in the middle of fuck-knows-where-ville. “I want you to drink plenty of water. Sports drinks are good too, as they contain nutrients and minerals that will help raise it. A few salty snacks might work too, but don’t overdo it, especially if you’re still nauseous.”
“That seems to have gone now, but I still feel a little lightheaded,” I respond. “So, water, snacks and…”
“Don’t worry, I’ll go through it again with Stone,” he gives me a gentle pat on the shoulder before moving to the head of the bed, where he starts to pull back the sheets.
The way he’d helped me undress, asked questions and checked my torso for any further injuries had been with a gentleness that had instantly put me at ease.
While up close and personal, despite my still blurry vision, I managed to get a close view of him.
He has a kind face lined with age and laughter; I’m guessing he’s early fifties. His dark hair is threaded with gray, which becomes more prominent at the temples. Hazel eyes, a strong nose where his black-rimmed glasses sit firmly. Clean shaven, giving you sight of a dimple right in the middle of his chin.
“Come on, Oriana. Get into bed. What you need is rest. I’ll leave some painkillers to take every four hours, and in case you need it, some sleeping tablets, but only use them if you really need them.”
“I don’t think sleeping will be a problem,” I laugh, but then wince when my head throbs. I push up from the bed and groan out. Every joint, every muscle seems to scream at me, but I bite down on my lip and shuffle my way over to get into bed. “Is this going to be okay with Stone? You know, it being his bed and all?” I hesitate to get in, as the linen is so fresh and crisp white. I know that Stone has tried to clean me up, but my hair is crusty with dry blood, and my body is grimy. “Can I not shower first?”
“Not today, and definitely not the shower.” he ushers me to climb between the sheets. “The risk of getting the wound to your head wet is too high. You need to keep it dry for at least twenty-four hours, and avoid soaking it for five or six days.”
“So, I can’t wash my hair for five days?” I moan at the thought of contending with the smell and itching.
“If you can get someone to help you so you can avoid wetting the area too much, then I don’t see why not, but I wouldn’t suggest trying to do it yourself.” Doc pulls over the sheets, and it triggers a huge, drawn-out yawn from me. “Now rest, and I’ll call to see you again in a couple of days, but if you have any problems at all, get Stone to give me a call.”
“Okay,” I say quietly, sleep already on the side-line, waiting to take me under. “Thank you for taking care of me, Doc.” I manage to mumble before he slips out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Stone
“The rest of Oriana’s injuries are superficial, so providing there’s no complication with the head injury, she should be fine in a few days.” Doc reassures me as he walks into the kitchen. “Hey there,” he coos and gives a childlike wave when he notes Sasha sat at the table with Smoke. All around her lips are coated with brown and white as she tucks into the bowl of ice cream smothered with chocolate sauce. She’s already demolished a grilled cheese sandwich. Smoke has chosen to stick around to hear what Doc has to say, but passed on the food on offer, settling for a neat scotch instead.
In return to his greeting, she waves her spoon in the air. A blob of the now partially melted ice cream hits Smoke’s leather just above his president badge. I tug my bottom lip with my teeth into my mouth to stop myself from laughing.
“Do you need me to check Sasha over?” Doc asks, turning his attention back to me. “Although, the way she’s inhaling that dessert, she seems to be unaffected by all the drama.”
Between mouthfuls of food, Sasha had asked where Oriana was and, knowing that her injuries will be hard to hide, I told her the truth. Well, part truth.
Smoke and I explained how she’d had a fall and banged her head, saying that she was now sleeping because it has made her unwell. We leave it at that, as it seems to be enough, although I have promised that she could check in on her before she goes to bed, but if Oriana’s still asleep, she has to be super quiet so as not to wake her.
“Thankfully, it seems Sasha slept through the whole thing.” I tell Doc. “Didn’t wake up until she was safely in the car with Smoke.”
“That’s a blessing.” He placed a hand on my shoulder. “I heard about your brother and his wife. Absolute tragedy. I’m so sorry, Stone.”
“Yeah, well. Thanks,” I mutter, not wanting to rake all my emotions up. I’m struggling enough to keep it all together from today’s events. I don’t need reminding of the past too. “So, tell me what I need to do, regarding Oriana.”