Page 19 of Bourbon & Blood

“Awright, now. Let’s do it.”

We rode out to the hospital and took ourselves up to Louie’s room. Collier was sittin’ with him. When we walked through the door, Collier looked up tiredly from where he sat in the chair by the bed and got up for me, moving aside so I could sit with our boy.

“Hey, boss,” Louie said, and he sounded so tired.

He was deathly pale, and his expression pinched. I asked, “You hurtin’ boy?”

“Not too bad, just tired mostly. You need me t’ git outta here?”

“Naw.” I shook my head and looked him over.

His face crumpled a little bit and he said, “Don’t suppose you’ll spare my momma?”

I kept my gaze steady and even on his light green eyes and said, “It’s up to your momma if she gon’ spare herself.”

His face crumbled further, and I told Collier, “Give us the room.”

Collier went out without another word and Hex closed the door and leaned up against it.

“You go ‘head and let whatever you got inside out. No judgment here,” I said and Louie broke, his face crushed under the weight of his sorrow. He wept, and I couldn’t say I blamed him for it. He was still young. Barely twenty, shit – not even old enough to fuckin’ drink by citizen standards… and all the boy wanted was his fuckin’ momma. But what he wanted and what she was didn’t exist in the same woman.

“You gotta let this go, son,” Hex said, but not unkindly. “She ain’t do you a single goddamn favor. Not once… and it’s a fuckin’ shame, too.”

I agreed wholeheartedly.

“She revoked her privilege of callin’ you family,” I said. “She don’t deserve you, brother.”

Louie looked at me astonished and asked, voice trembling, “Does… does that mean…?”

I looked back over my shoulder at Hex who pulled Louie’s fresh cut out from behind his back where he’d had it tucked up under his.

“Almost,” I said, taking it from Hex and putting it in his lap. “You gotta heal first before you get your colors. You gotta heal, and you gotta handle this business with your momma’s man. I gave her an ultimatum last night. She calls me when he gets hisself out, or we come for her and you know I keep my promises.”

Louie paled and nodded, unfolding the cut in his lap, his fingers, with the IV leading into the back of his hand, running over the name flash on the front of the leather vest that readLoup Garou.It’s why we called him Louie for short. His drunk ass told some stupid story one night about how he seen one in a park at the edge of Lake Pontchartrain. Even stone cold sober, he swore by that shit, and so the name stuck.

“I don’t wanna hurt her,” he said sadly. “She’s still my momma.”

“Somebody ought t’ tellherthat,” Hex muttered and fresh pain lanced through behind Louie’s eyes. I could be sympathetic, but that wasn’t going to help Louie become strong, nor would it put his true loyalties to the rigorous test that being a part of this club required.

“You got your choice, man. The club, or her,” I said, and I put hands to my knees and pushed my tired ass back up onto my booted feet.

“Heal first. Tackle the rest later,” Hex advised and Louie nodded absently, his eyes fixed on the fully flashed-out cut, the only thing missing? The big patch with the club’s purple, gold, and green, the Baron Samedi with his top hat bustin’ out the fleur-de-lis on the back.

Hex opened the door, and we joined Collier out in the hallway.

“Go on home,” Hex said to Col. “I’ll stick around with him until another brother can come ‘round.”

I nodded and jerked my head at Collier to walk with me.

He fell into step beside me and heaved a big sigh in the elevator once the doors shushed shut.

“How’s he doin’?” I asked him and he nodded.

“He’ll be alright,” Collier said.

“You hear any o’ what was said?” I asked.

“Wasn’t listenin’ at key holes, boss.”

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