Ashes (Blood Moon MC 2)

Ashes (Blood Moon MC 2)
Second Edition
Ashlynn Monroe
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Ashlynn Monroe

Ashes

I stood in the courthouse parking lot, opening my left saddlebag.

“Hey! Ashes.”

My head jerked up and my vision hazed red. Will stood there with an expression that screamed he thought he was hot shit. My gun was in the saddlebag. Temptation begged me to shoot him, but with all the cameras watching, taking revenge here would be idiotic. “Fuck you.” I turned away from him, unable to stomach another moment of his face.

A loud pop reverberated. Sound echoed off the old stone buildings. I stumbled. My legs went numb. I dropped to my knees. Breathed out. Putting my hand against my abdomen. I pulled back and saw blood. Pain. My vision blurred. Blood. So. Much. Blood.

“What the fuck?” I looked up. Will was running. He’d never have had the guts. I glanced around, my thoughts turning hazy. I didn’t see a shooter.

Scathes. Family always came first. They knew this was my sister. They might be low, but no biker would do this when family was involved. I coughed. Blood splattered against the white skull painted on the tank of my bike. Blurred. Focused. Blurred. I tried to push myself up but couldn’t. The urge to clean up my girl was strong, but I didn’t have the strength. I held my injury, and when I glanced down the red seeped between my fingers. It was bad. “Shit.”

Shivering, I tried to look around for my attacker, but the only thing I saw were a few suits running in my direction. The last thing I wanted to see as I died was lawyers. My eyelids were heavy… so heavy…

* * *

Vivian

“Vivian.”

I glanced up, stretching my aching lower back the same time. This had been a busy ER rotation due to the recent measles outbreak. I normally worked in the ICU, but with the need for all hands, I was helping in emergency.

“Incoming.”

I watched the paramedics rush through the ambulance bay with the patient. He was under a thermal blanket, indicating the man was suffering from shock. They had him on oxygen. He didn’t look good.

“Viv, GSW, trauma room one,” Erica, one of the ER nurses, directed.
As one of the most experienced ER nurses on staff I wasn’t surprised she immediately directed me to assist. Hows and whys of injuries didn’t matter. Hero or criminal, this guy would get the same treatment.

In the trauma room, the EMTs were transferring him from the gurney to the bed. “Gunshot wound to the lower right quadrant. There’s no exit wound.” This guy was lucky -- Dr. Blair was amazing.

I took my place on the right and took a blood sample. We needed to type him, fast. I glanced up to see the respiratory therapist remove the non-rebreather and intubate.

Dr. Blair stood at the foot of the bed, monitoring the situation while his resident took a spot on the left, ready to stop the bleeding with hemostatic gauze.

“Vitals?” asked Dr. Blair.

“Tachycardic, 170 beats a minute. O2 at 94% with oxygen. Temp 95. Blood pressure is 80/45 with a map of 50,” reported the EMT. “The abdomen is distended. Blood pooled around the wound. His color was ashen and distal pulses were weak. We gave him saline without any change in blood pressure. Victim was in and out of consciousness on the way here. He was lethargic upon arrival to the scene, but unconscious the last ten minutes while en route.”

“Exploratory laparotomy might be needed to stabilize him,” said the youthful Doctor Hanover, the resident Dr. Blair was precepting.

“Agreed. Let’s get our patient into surgery.”

I wasn’t getting a coffee break today. Dr. Blair glanced at me, and I nodded. I’d assisted him often and we enjoyed intense professional mutual respect. This patient was in as good hands as any, and in his condition, he’d need all the skill of our combined knowledge. Dr. Hanover looked over at me. The worry in his expression made my throat constrict. Losing a patient never got any easier.

* * *

Ashes

The rhythm of a steady beep woke me. I groaned with pain. Everything hurt. My eyes drifted open. Several dust motes floated in the shaft of sunlight sneaking into the dim room. I didn’t know where I was. I battled confusion, everything swimming as I tried to focus. I glanced at my arm. An IV. Hospital. The events at the courthouse came back to me in pieces. The room was dark, and the only light came from monitors.

I squinted at the display and made the numbers come into focus. Blood pressure 116/80. O2 at 99. The rest I didn’t understand, but those two seemed good. Tubing in my nose irritated me and I pulled it out of my nostrils. I groaned, trying to sit up, but the pain seared through me. I lay still, catching my breath. The monitor alarmed.

A nurse rushed into the room. Hot. My addled brain didn’t know much, but I knew this was a fine woman. “Stay still,” she ordered. “When you move your arm the line for the IV gets pinched and the alarm goes off.” She straightened the tubing and pushed some buttons. The alarm shut off.

I breathed a sigh of relief as the shrill screeching quit.

“Do you want your head elevated?”

I nodded. She pressed a button on the bed’s handrail and the mattress elevated. I hissed as my body bent at the waist. She stopped. “Are you okay?”

I wasn’t, but I wouldn’t pussy out in front of this gorgeous blonde. The concern in her hazel eyes made her even more beautiful. I nodded. She didn’t look convinced, but moved me up a little at a time until I found a comfortable position.

I took a deeper breath. Better. “Thanks,” I croaked. My voice was rusty as fuck. “How long have I been out?”

She opened the curtain to let sunlight in. “Three days. It’s Friday. You were brought in Wednesday afternoon with a gunshot wound. A bullet spent some time in your abdomen, but Dr. Blair managed to remove all of it. You were touch and go for a while, but your stats look good right now.”

I could felt the stitches pulling, burning my skin, like a hot exhaust pipe after a long ride. I moaned. She touched my brow, her hand cool against my skin. Our gazes connected, and the light streaming in made her appear angelic. I realized my cock hadn’t sustained any injuries and prayed she didn’t notice. If she did, she remained a consummate professional.

She handed me a button. “This is for pain. I’ll be your nurse tonight. My name is Vivian.”

Vivian. I liked her name. It fit her. “Thanks.” I sounded like shit.

She nodded. “I’m glad to see you’re awake. I’ll let your doctor know. Here’s some ice water.” She sat down a small paper cup with a bendy straw. “You’ll start out on a clear liquid diet. If that stays down all right, you’ll likely be on soft foods by tomorrow morning, and a regular meal plan by tomorrow night. The menu is on this tray if you feel like looking.” She rolled a side table closer to the bed.

I wasn’t hungry, but if I’d been out for three days, I doubted that would remain the case.

“If you need me, press this button,” Vivian said.

I nodded. She started to leave. Without thinking I grabbed her hand. Her eyes widened as she glanced at me in surprise. She didn’t try to pull away. Her hand was warm. “Thank you.”

Her gaze softened. “You’re welcome, but please let go of me, Mr. Preston.”

I’d never been called mister. “Ashes.”

“Huh?”

“Call me Ashes.”

“Ashes? Your chart says Tysen Preston.”

“Just Ashes.”

“All right, Ashes. Can I get you anything else?”

I shook my head and let go of her hand. She went over to a white board on the wall and wrote her name under nurse. She erased “Tysen” and changed it to “Ashes” before she left. There was something so intensely kind about the beautiful woman that I hoped she’d be my nurse for more than one night.