HARDCORE: Storm MC(72)

Lemuel held up a hand, silencing him. “You can save your lies. I don't need to hear them. Whoever or whatever caused Round One of this fight, I certainly don't want Round Two to take place in my hospital. I'll make sure you're released today after we run your tests and patch you up.”



“Thank you,” Cain said. “I appreciate that.”



“No need to thank me,” Lemuel said. “If you'd rather not involve the authorities in whatever happened to you, that's your prerogative, no matter how unwise it might be. I'm also going to prescribe pain medication so you'll be able to breathe without too much discomfort. Make sure you stick to this medication only. If you start grabbing pills from the corner pharmacy and taking those too, they could thin your blood and make your internal wounds worse.



“But let me make one thing extremely clear to you, Mr. Vale,” he continued. “If I find out that you've sold the pills I've prescribed to someone else instead of taking them yourself as directed, I won't hesitate to contact the authorities and report your injuries. I don't know what sorts of crimes you're involved in and I don't want to know, but this county is already suffering enough from a serious epidemic of opioid abuse, and I won't have that on my conscience. Are we clear?”



“Yeah, absolutely,” Cain agreed. “From the way I'm feeling, I'm betting I'll need every pill I can get anyway.”



“You're quite right about that,” the doctor said wryly. “The quick pain of having these things broken is nothing when compared to the slow pain of feeling them heal themselves. You'll need at least a week of solid rest. No long walks, no driving or going anywhere by yourself, no lifting or carrying, no exertion of any kind at all. It's a good thing you've got a girlfriend to take care of you, because believe me, you'll need all the help you can get. I'll make an appointment for you to follow up with me at my office.”



Cain nodded. “Cool. And again, thank you.”



“If you really want to thank me, take this as seriously as possible and do what it takes to heal,” Lemuel said, standing up and heading for the door. “I'll have a nurse come collect you and take you to the Radiology department for your tests.”



After the doctor left, Missy turned to Cain. “Do you have a girlfriend?”



Cain raised his eyebrows with an amused expression.



“To take care of you like he said, I mean,” she finished awkwardly.



“Nah, I'm between girlfriends at the moment,” Cain answered. The truth was, he rarely dated anyone seriously. He didn't like to be tied down, and preferred the freedom of being able to hop on his bike and ride anywhere, anytime, without having to deal with a bunch of fights, lies, and excuses. “I'll be fine, though.”



“But the doctor just said you'd need someone to take care of you,” Missy said. “He's barely out of the room, and you're already going to start ignoring what he said? Good luck getting better, pal.”



“Oh, what the hell is your problem now, huh?” Cain sneered. “Jesus, are you trying to volunteer as a nursemaid? Is that it?”



“Fuck no!” Missy spat back. “I've got more important shit to do than help you get dressed and shove your pills down your throat.”



“Yeah? Like what?” Cain asked. “Pour shots of cheap vodka? Count out pills and nugs of weed?”



A deep, drawling voice rumbled from the doorway behind them. “All this profanity and loose talk about narcotics, and in a hospital, no less! You kids are so uncivilized these days, I do declare.”



The hulking frame of Sheriff Jon Hemmick stood at the door to the room. He had his thumbs hooked into the leather belt that his huge revolver hung from, and his brown uniform barely seemed to contain his protruding belly and slab-like arms. He rocked back and forth slightly, favoring the pair with a wide, gap-toothed grin.



“What brings you down here so late, Ham-Hock?” Cain smirked. It was a nickname the burly cop hated, which is why the Eagles used it so frequently, even to his face. “Looking for pretty girls to finger down in the coma ward?”



Hemmick's expression darkened, his bushy eyebrows drawing together in a frown. “When my boys responded to a report of a beating and gunshots out at the Teepee, I figured I'd hang around the hospital and see who showed up. Didn't expect to see one of you Eagles down here, though, or to hear you feeding some line of bullshit to the docs so they wouldn't call me. That hurts, Cain—knowing you'd try to keep things from me, after everything I've done for your club.”



“After everything we've paid you to do for us, you mean,” Cain said. “We didn't feel like taking the time to talk to you about this one, is all. We can handle it ourselves.”