X Marks the Spot (Executioners MC Book 1) (20 page)

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Authors: Kimmie Easley

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BOOK: X Marks the Spot (Executioners MC Book 1)
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“Good girl. Where hurts the most, Jolene?”

“My baby. Is my baby ok?”

The tech shot upright. “You’re pregnant, honey?”

His pointed question sent me into a fit of sobs. The thought of losing my sweet baby boy gutted me.

The man directed his attention to his partner. “Let’s strap her. We can’t assess her pregnancy here. Let’s go!”

They jumped into action putting my head into a splint and restraining me onto the stretcher.

“Don’t worry, Jolene. We’re just getting you immobilized so we can transport you without causing further injury. Hold on, we’re going up.”

I was weightless as they raised the stretcher into the air, wheeling me towards the ambulance. I attempted to crane my head around, but I couldn’t move. My throat tightened, constricting my airway.

The cough sent sharp pains through my shattered body. I squeezed my eyes shut, biting my lip through the pain. When I opened them, there he was.

Ronin.

His long hair was disheveled. His dangerous eyes appeared swollen and red. The excruciating expression on his face was a combination of ferociousness and being scared shitless.

From the background, he stared at me. His gaze locked onto me until the paramedics shoved the stretcher into the back of the ambulance, closing both doors shut.

 

CHAPTER TWO

RONIN

Rage boiled deep in my gut. I pumped my fists. The adrenaline was searing my skin.

“Man, you gotta calm down. You can’t go off half cocked.” Clint cupped my shoulder.

I quickly shook him off. “Don’t feed me that bullshit. You wouldn’t be able to fucking stay calm either!” My nostrils flared as I shouted.

“Yeah, I’ll give ya that, but it doesn’t change the fact that Jolene needs you. You can’t start a war while your girl’s laid up in the hospital bed alone.”

I seethed through clenched teeth. Spotting Jesse on the road with the cops, I stormed across the lawn.

One uniformed asshole turned, planting himself in my path. I was more than happy to shove my way through the barricade.

“Stand down, son.”

When the president speaks, a soldier listens. I saw the pain in his face. He wasn’t just my president or my girlfriend’s dad. Jesse Miller was the only father that I’ve ever known.

“Sir.” I reluctantly complied.

Clint glowered at me from the other side of the caution tape. I decided to take a page out of his book and remain cool headed, as if that shit were fucking possible.

“So that’s all you got for me, really?”

“I didn’t fucking stutter. Now, get your shit together and go find whoever did this to my family.” Jesse stepped forward, sending two other officers into motion.

The move snowballed, causing the Executioners to snap to attention.

“Ok, ok. We all want the same thing,” the officer in charge positioned himself between both groups of trigger-happy men. “To get this straight, you were out of town with one,” he paused as he glances down at his notepad. “Terry ‘Zombie’ Wilson?”

“Like I said, yes.”

I listened to them wrap up their conversation. I don’t remember hearing the Prez mention anything about going on a run with Zombie, but then again, I’m just a soldier. Everyone dispersed, however, not before being told not to leave town.

The scene was clearing out. The rubberneckers moved on while the neighbors slowly meandered their way home. As the vehicles took off in all directions, I was left standing, staring at the crumbled heap of rubble. Nothing remained of the house. The Fire Chief said the blaze could not be put out, only maintained.

Whatever the fuck that means.

“Jimmy, you take Reggie, Carl, and Stoner. Make the rounds and gather everyone at the Clubhouse. Herc, find Ruth as soon as she gets in town and escort her to the hospital.” He turns and faces me. His sullen eyes appeared red and misty. “Ronin, you’re with me.”

I crossed the yard in two strides.

“What about me?” As everyone scattered, Zombie stood with his arms at his sides.

I noticed the way Jesse stared at him, almost as if he couldn’t speak his mind openly.

“Find Jessa and the girls. She’s probably with Patsy. Tell them to pack a bag and get to the compound.”

Zombie scowled, but nodded.

Thankful that Jesse attempted to break the speed barrier, I trailed behind, holding my soldier’s position. I slid into the first space I spotted and bolted inside, rushing the front counter.

“I’m looking for Jolene Miller.”

A woman in pink scrubs glances up before going back to work on the computer. “Sir, have a seat over there and someone will take care of you shortly.”

“No, you’re not listening. Jolene Miller, where is she?”

“Sir,” she started until I slammed my hands down on the countertop.

“Listen, I’m looking for Jolene Miller. That’s all you have to, look up a fucking name and point me in the direction. Isn’t that your damn job?”

The woman stood as Jesse came through the front door. “Sir, are you family?”

“What? What the fuck… ?”

Just as I got ready to explode, Jesse steps in front of me. “She’s my daughter and this man is the father of her baby. Now, I suggest you get us to where we need to be before this daddy in distress snaps.”

The woman darted her gaze between us. Finally taking Jesse seriously, she punched the keys on the computer, wrote something on a slip of paper, and handed us visitor badges.

“This is the room that Ms. Miller will be in when she’s done.”

“Done?” Jesse questions.

“Yes, she’s in the process of having a, um, procedure. Please, try to remain calm. It’s not uncommon with injuries of this nature. The doctor will be able to give you more information. The doctor in charge is Kleinman. I wrote it down for you here. Take these passes and follow this map.”

Neither of us spoke as we navigated our way through the maze of halls. My heart hammered against my ribcage. My breathing was shallow, causing my lungs to burn.

More shit burning. Fucking perfect.

The hospital room was still empty, sending my gut into my throat. I shoved my hands into my jeans and leaned against the wall.

Jesse clasped me by the shoulder. “Take it easy, son.”

“But we don’t know.” I swallowed hard. “We don’t know anything. What if she’s not ok? The baby?” I scrubbed the palms of my hands into my eyes, sliding down the wall.

“Son, you will not do this. My girl is stronger than anyone I’ve ever fucking met, but not today. You better muster up. She is not going through this shit alone.”

My aching chest tightened. Pain pierced my temples. I found my balance and stood. “Sir.”

“Good. Now put your game face on and get your shit together.”

Fuck. He was right.

As I rolled my neck, the transportation team wheeled Jolene into the room. The long stretcher occupied the empty space in the middle of the room. My insides quaked when I spotted her pale face. A nurse busied herself by hooking up tubes and wires. She changed the empty IV bag before finally turning to address us.

About two seconds before I was about to snatch her up by her stethoscope and throw her through a goddamn wall.

“Are you, Mr. Miller, the father?” She looked at Jesse, who promptly nodded. “And, you are?”

“Jolene’s boyfriend.” I notice the way she narrowed her eyes and continued. “I’m the father of her baby.”

“Ah, I see.”

Jesse takes a step forward. “What’s going on? How is she?”

“I’m sorry. All I’m allowed to say is that the doctor will be right in.” She paused when someone knocked just before opening the door. “And here he is now.”

“Mr. Miller, I’m Dr. Kleinman. I’m the one who performed the D&C on your daughter.”

“Pardon me, doc. Can you put that in blue collar terms?”

I had a thousand questions running through my fucked up head, but somehow managed to bite my lip.

“Sorry, yes. A D&C is actually a dilation and curettage. We had to go in and clean out her uterus. There was a lot of free bleeding and we had to get in there and assess the damage immediately. It’s a standard procedure for someone who’s suffered this kind of loss. As far as the fire, we got her on oxygen. She has a few abrasions that needed tending to. We’re keeping her at least one night for observation. Mostly to check her breathing and make sure she’s putting out enough fluids.”

I stumbled backwards, struggling to find my footing. All of the air expelled from my lungs and the blood drained from my face.

“Loss?” Jesse asked.

“Yes,” the doctor said as he gazed from Jesse’s face to mine. “I’m sorry. I thought you knew. Ms. Miller’s baby didn’t make it.”

 

CHAPTER THREE

JOLENE

He’s gone.

No one has seen or heard from Ronin in over a week. Pop says it’s normal.

“He needs time to himself. Time to yell and punch. Time to drink himself stupid. Time to sober up. Honey, you need to give him some space.” Ruth pulled the quilt up over my lap. I’ve practically made an ass imprint on the old sofa. She insisted that I stay put until the doctor signed off on light duty.

I’m didn’t exactly complain. My lungs were still on fire form the smoke inhalation. My insides ached from the harshness of the procedure that I knew nothing about until two days later. The hospital kept me sedated figuring I would interfere with my own initial recover.

They were right.

Once I found out that I had lost my baby, there was no consoling me. I ripped out my tubes and IV, attempting to jump up from the bed. I didn’t believe them. I searched my belly. Nothing. I don’t know where I was going to run, but I didn’t care. I just wanted – away.

I guess that’s why I can’t bring myself to hate Ronin for running. I could never be mad at him for being able to do accomplish the very thing that I couldn’t.

The staff quickly sedated me. I remember seeing tears stream down Ruth’s face as she begged me to listen to the doctor. Pop’s distorted face and dark eyes were a mystery. And a week later, I’m still left to deal with it alone.

“Shit, Ronin’s done tucked tail and ran.”

“Jessa, don’t start that bullshit now. Your sister doesn’t need the aggravation.” Ruth was always the first one to jump in when it came to Ronin. He was the son she’d never had.

“Don’t say that. You have no idea what he’s going through.” My sister had always been able to push my buttons in a hot minute. In fact, it was her favorite pastime.

“Great. You’re sitting here defending him. You were in a fucking fire. Your house was burnt down. You lost your baby and had to have your insides scraped out. But sure, you go ahead and defend the absentee hero.”

My skin burned. My tummy boiled from the rush of adrenaline. As I readied myself for battle with my big sis, yet again, when Ruth jumped out of her seat.

“Enough! You need to go find your father.” Ruth’s voice echoed off the walls. “Now!”

Jessa eyeballed her stepmother, who clearly refused to back down, before sauntering out the door.

Damn, it was getting crowded at the clubhouse, but it was far better than being homeless.

Truth be told, I was angry, but it certainly wasn’t directed at Ronin. I was fucking pissed. At God. At myself. At this damn life. The fucking MC life. All retaliation is fair game, including innocent, unborn babies.

Ronin would be here if he believed that he could. I kept telling myself that. I knew in my heart he would.

***

Fuck this day.

I wanted to slit my goddamn wrists and be done with it already. Numb. Dead.

I can’t do this. I can’t. I’m not strong enough.

I checked my reflection. Standing there naked, in front of the long, oval, floor-length mirror, I fought back the stinging bile bubbling in my raw throat. I have nothing left. The not eating, combined with the constantly throwing up had seriously taken a toll on my new taut frame.

I reached for the brown, prescription bottle on my bedside table.

Empty. Fuck, no refills on a controlled substance.

I jotted down a note to call the doctor. There’s no way I can make it through this day without some help.

“Hey, Jo.”

I heard a whisper coming from behind me. Jumping, I turned. Ronin had somehow managed to sneak into the clubhouse. I didn’t even hear the door open.

“Shit! You scared me! What are you doing here? Where have you been?”

“I’m sorry.” He looked like shit. His clothes were wrinkled and dirty. Dark, heavy circles invaded his typically beautiful eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

Ronin’s broken.

I tried not to pick at his open wounds, but I couldn’t help myself. “You left me. I needed you and you weren’t here.”

With wet eyes, he dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around my naked frame.

“Please forgive me. Please, Jo. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He squeezed tighter. “I couldn’t breathe. I was useless to you. I had nothing to offer.”

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