Page 101 of Shadow's Surrender
“I’m sure. I’m near your building.”
“I’m coming down now,” she said, worry coating her voice.
“You don’t have to. I can come up as soon as Smokey and some of the other brothers get here.”
“I’m already pushing the button on the elevator.”
“Turn to your right when you get outta the building—you’ll see me.”
“Okay. The connection is crapping out since I’m in the elevator. I’ll be …”
Scarlett sounded like she was talking underwater, so he hung up then cleared both her number and Smokey’s from the woman’s phone. He’d tell Scarlett some punks threw the tire iron because he didn’t want her to worry or talk him out of exacting vengeance.
The pain seared through him as he walked over to the woman.
“Thanks,” he said, handing it back to her.
“Did you call someone to come get you?” Lynn asked as she slipped the phone into her purse.
“Yeah. Do you have a piece of paper and a pen?”
Nodding she fished around in her purse.
“Do you have a way to get your motorcycle to a shop?” Jim asked.
“My buddies are coming and will help take care of things.” Shadow took the paper and pen from Lynn and wrote a quick note and then walked over to the car that his bike crashed into and left the folded paper under the windshield wiper.
“I still worry that you may be hurt. I used to be a nurse and there are different degrees of road rash. It looks like you have some debris in your arm, probably in your hands too. You have to get that cleaned out. You don’t want to get an infection. You really should go to the ER,” Lynn said.
“I’ve wiped out before so I know what to do. Anyway, I got a friend who’s a doctor and he’ll check me out.”
“We’ll stay with you until your friends get here,” Jim said.
“That’s not necessary. They’ll be—”
“Oh, baby.”
Shadow turned around and saw Scarlett running over to him. He noticed her face blanch after she looked at his motorcycle beside the parked car. She came up to him and threw her arms around his neck.
“Fuck,” he gritted.
Scarlett jumped back. “Did I hurt you?” She glanced at his arm and her lips trembled. “You’re injured!” Then her gaze fixed on his gloves. “There’s blood. Take your gloves off.” She reached out to help him, but he shook his head and unfurled the gloves from his throbbing hands.
“Jim, go get that towel in the back seat,” Lynn said.
“What happened?” Scarlett asked as she placed her hand on his shoulder. “How can I help you?”
“The guys will be here soon. I gotta go to the clubhouse to get cleaned up.”
“Two men threwthat”—Lynn pointed to the tire iron tucked into Shadow’s waistband—“at him. My husband and I saw them. We couldn’t believe anyone would do that. The world is getting crazier by the day.”
One of Scarlett’s hands flew to face, covering her mouth. “That’s horrible.” She cut her gaze to Shadow. “Did you know them?”
“No.”
“I wonder if Bruce Huntington had anything to do with this. Remember what I told you I overheard? I can’t believe he’d do it—that would be too terrible.”
“Probably just some punks who thought it was funny.” He stepped closer to her.
