Page 50 of Savage Outlaw

“Fuck.Fuck. I can’t…” Tag swore, and that’s when Butcher saw it. His cheek bone was no longer under his skin but protruding out at an angle that turned Butcher’s guts. Every part of Tag’s face was swollen, stretching the purple and bloody skin to capacity.

He was unrecognizable.

“I can’t see.” He groaned, wheezing. Flailing his arms out to steady himself. Both the trainer and Rider grabbed onto one to keep him steady.

There was fuck all Butcher could do other than try to stem some of the blood.

“Tag, we’re here.” He assured him, grabbing gauze from Pretty-Boy who was holding a medical bag. “Stay still a second.”

“I can’t see, man. I can’t fucking see anything.”

Shock went through them all.

While the place celebrated a fantastic night of fighting, the prospects kept everyone out of the cage, the boys guarding Tag.

“We need a hospital and now, Prez.” Butcher conveyed in a tight voice.

“Clear this fuckin’ place.” Rider demanded with force.

“I can’t see. Why the fuck can’t I see?”

“Don’t you worry about that, champ. We’re gonna get you taken care of.”

His face was a fucking mess, pure ground beef. Butcher couldn’t even attempt to pry open an eyelid to check his pupils’ reaction because they were so puffy.

“You’re gonna be okay.”

“Did I win?” He croaked.

“Yeah, man, you got him.” He looked over to Rider and mouthed, “need to move him now.”

“Good.” Tag took one more choking breath and then he passed out.

From the luckiest guy to the unluckiest in the matter of an hour.

TheSoulsthen did what they did best, and they took care of one of their own.

It was well after 2 a.m. when he rolled his bike to a stop at the curb. Switching off the engine he turned his weary eyes to the dark two story house. Feeling as though he’d been through the wringer in the last few hours. He still smelled of Tag’s blood crusted dry to his clothes.

In need of sleep, the need for Roux was greater and he fished out his phone to answer the 7 texts she’d sent earlier.

Butcher:Cookie, I’m outside.

He saw a light pop on and then his head reared up when she came around the back of the house with a fast walk-jog and didn’t stop until she reached him.

Fuck him. She was dressed in little bed shorts and an oversized sweater.

He wanted to watch her prance around in his clothes. Just another small thing they’d missed out on. But he couldn’t stop the smile edging up one side of his mouth.

“How’s Tag doing?” She asked immediately. Arms around her waist like she didn’t know whether to come to him or not.

“They had to do surgery on his cheek.”

They’d only know about his eyesight once some of the swelling went down and they could check his pupils response. They hoped for a fucking miracle at this point.

“He looked awful. I’m glad he’ll be okay. We had to leave … or I would have come over.”

“I know, baby. We had to shut it down fast. Did someone bring you home?”

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