Page 64 of Killer's Obsession
“On three. One. Two. Three.” Together, they lift Killer from the truck bed and lay him on it. His shirt is cut away, revealing the bloody wound in his chest.
“No pulse! Starting compressions!” A nurse jumps on the gurney and straddles his chest, immediately beginning CPR as they rush him through the doors.
I stumble after them, but a firm hand on my shoulder stops me.
“You can’t go back there,” a security guard says, his voice sympathetic but firm.
“But I have to be with him,” I plead, my voice breaking. “Please, he needs me.”
“The doctors need space to work,” he explains. “You can wait in the family area.”
Chief eyes the security guard’s hand on my shoulder, and the man yanks his hand away. “Come on, Memphis. Let’s wait where they tell us.”
I let him lead me to a sterile waiting room and collapse into a chair. One by one, the rest of Killer’s brothers file in, their faces somber.
“He’s going to be okay,” I whisper, not sure if I’m trying to convince them or myself. “He has to be.”
No one contradicts me, but no one agrees either.
Minutes stretch into an hour. Then two. The waiting room fills with more men from the Saints MC as word spreads. No one has said much. Reign continues to pace, while Dread sits with his head in his hands, and Chief stands stoically by the door, as if guarding us all.
And me? I can’t stop replaying what happened in my mind. The gunshot. The blood. The way he looked at me before he fell. If I hadn’t left, if I’d just listened to him, he wouldn’t be fighting for his life right now.
“This is my fault,” I whisper, drawing my knees up to my chest.
“Stop.” Chief’s voice is firm. He crosses the room and drops down into the chair beside me. “This isn’t on you. It’s on Nikolai.”
“But if I hadn’t run?—”
“Nikolai would have found another way,” he interrupts. “He’s been watching you for weeks. Waiting for an opening.”
My blood runs cold. “How do you know that?”
“Zero’s been tracking his communications,” Chief explains. “He had people following you. At the shop. At the grocery store. He was just waiting for the right moment to grab you.”
“And I gave it to him,” I say bitterly. “By walking right out of Killer’s protection.”
Chief’s expression softens slightly. “Look, Memphis. I don’t know what happened between you two, and frankly, it’s not my business. But I do know that Killer cares about you.”
Tears fill my eyes again. “I love him.”
“Then tell him that when he wakes up.”
When, not if. I cling to that word like a lifeline.
The door to the waiting room swings open, and a doctor in bloodied scrubs steps in. The room goes completely silent, everyone’s attention fixed on him.
“Family of Manu Tuiasosopo?” he asks, looking around the room.
Chief stands. “We’re his family.”
The doctor nods, his expression unreadable. “He’s out of surgery. The bullet missed his heart, but it did puncture his lung and cause significant internal bleeding. We’ve repaired the damage, but the next twenty-four hours are critical.”
“Is he going to make it?” Dread asks the question we’re all thinking.
The doctor’s expression turns grave. “I won’t lie to you. It’s touch and go. He lost a lot of blood, and his body has been through a significant trauma. But he’s young and strong. If he makes it through the night, his chances improve significantly.”
I sway on my feet, and Chief’s hand catches my elbow, steadying me.
