Page 37 of Hawk's Cry

“Nah, baby,” Dad reassures me. “No one knows we were coming here, and we’ll tell the brothers only when and if there’s a need for them to know.”

Drummer stands and shrugs out of his cut. He looks around. “You got a closet I can hang this in?”

“Yes, but why?” Unless he’s in a cage or relaxing at home, it’s strange to see Drummer not wearing his worn leather vest.

“Because I’m here as his dad, not as a Satan’s Devil,” he explains. “It might be easier for him to talk to me if he sees that.” He turns to Wizard. “I’m sorry, Prez. I’ll step back as VP if I have to. Eli comes first for now.”

Wizard makes a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Take as long as you need, Drum. Now, I don’t think I can do much more here. I’ll get back to the compound. Drummer, Olivia, let me know if you need me, okay?” When I indicate I’ll do so, while being unable to think of anything he could do to help, he turns to his wife. “Amy?”

“I’ll just wait for Rob to come out, then I’ll come home unless Olivia still needs me.”

“I’m staying to talk to the doctor,” Dad says. “I’m still not happy leaving you here.”

“But Wizard is right, Dad.” I try to persuade him. “I don’t even know whether he’ll want Drummer here.”

“He probably won’t,” Wizard suggests wisely. “But you’re not staying here on your own. After this?” He waves in the direction of the bedroom and I know he’s referring to Eli’s breakdown earlier. “He’s too unpredictable for you to be left alone.”

Dad shakes his head.

“I’m his father,” Drummer reminds him again. “Whether or not he wants me, Wraith, I’ll be here.”

“And I’m her dad.” He points at me.

“You’re club, Dad,” I remind him. “I don’t think that helps. I’m not the one sick.” I narrow my eyes, letting him know if he tells me I’m pregnant again, I’ll probably hit him.

He gets my message and shuts up.

When I’m certain he’s not going to object again, I turn to Eli’s dad. “You calling Sam, Drum?”

His lips press together, then he answers, “I have to, don’t I? Eli’s her son. She’s going to be so fuckin’ worried, Olivia.”

Sam and Mom have been looking forward to this trip forever. They’ve got tickets to a top Broadway show. I hate that their time away will be ruined.

Small talk dies as no one has anything productive to say. An hour or more passes, then Dr de Souza appears. He nods toward Amy, then at me. Then shakes his head at my dad and Drum.

“What’s the verdict?” Drummer gets in before me.

“Patient confidentiality.”

I bristle. “I’m his wife. I need to know—”

The doctor gives a short laugh. “No, I don’t mean I can’t talk about what’s going on with him, it means, he won’t speak to me. Every time I asked him about what could have triggered him, what went on in the last few months, he throws one term at me. Club business.” He shakes his head. “It’s not unusual for someone to be reticent about sharing at this stage, but I’ve not heard that term before.”

As Dad snorts and shakes his head, the doctor tilts his head toward a chair. When I nod, he sits. Elegantly he crosses one leg over the other, and steeples his hands under his chin. “He is very agitated, and it’s undeniable he’s reached a mental crisis today. I’ve given him a sedative to help him relax. I’m also going to prescribe a short course of antidepressants.”

“Is he going to get better, Doc?” Drummer asks, adding, “I’m his father.”

The doctor considers his words carefully. “I have every hope that he will make a full recovery. But he does need to open up. The issue is getting him to the place where he’ll talk so we can see what the root of his problems are.”

“And if he starts to talk? How long until he’s better?” I ask.

“Hard to say. People recover at their own pace. Could be a month, could be three, could be less, could be more. Could be he needs support long term.” The doctor’s hands come down to rest on his thighs. “He wouldn’t, or in his mind, couldn’t, provide any details to me. One thing’s for certain, he’s become overwhelmed, unable to cope with life. Before I can give a prognosis, I need to know more about what’s happened to him, whether what he doesn’t believe he can handle can be changed, or whether he’s got to learn to accept things as they are. What were the triggers? Not just today. From what Amy said, this has been creeping up for a long time. I noticed he’s recently been injured, but he wouldn’t explain how he got that way, so I’m unable to say whether that was a trigger or not.”

“What do you suggest, Doc? How do we proceed from here?” I notice Drummer avoids any explanation or offers the information Eli was beaten out of the club. But then, I suppose, Eli’s problems started long before that.

Dr de Souza presses his lips together. “We’ve got to get him talking. Sometimes it seems too hard, too painful. Sometimes it takes a while to get to the bottom of what kicked the crisis off. I, or one of my colleagues will need to see him and get him to open up. I’ll get some sessions set up at the hospital.”

“Would it help if I came with him?” I ask.

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