Fractured MC (The Nighthawks MC Book 9) Read online

  She laughed, then clutched her side. "Don't make me laugh, you idiot. Go!"

  He went up two floors to see his other wife. When did I start thinking of Sigrun as our wife? he asked himself. Wraith looked better, her color up, the shunt in her head removed. She was out of the induced coma, and could wiggle her fingers and move her eyes. They were all stunned to realize she wasn't paralyzed, but her spinal column would need time to heal.

  Wraith had both a tablet and an eyeboard if she needed to talk. She made "gah" sounds that raised and lowered in pitch. Vu was there, reading to her. Saber was startled to realize there was a tablet under the injured hand and a lighted keyboard under the other.

  Vu pointed at the new keyboard with her chin. "She's practicing. We'll get her hooked up to ‘Mavis Beatty Teaches Typing,’ tomorrow. "

  "Gah," said Wraith emphatically. Her hair had been washed and braided; probably Herja on night shift, who was most likely responsible for that.

  He smiled down at his wife. "Sigrun's got new coloring toys. She'll drive the nurses crazy, asking them for paper."

  Wraith smiled. "Go gah," she said.

  "Our wife," said Saber. Wraith's eyes filled with tears, and she nodded a fraction. Sudden movements hurt her neck, and she was in a brace, so her nods and head shakes were minimal, but easy to read. "She is," said Saber. He struggled not to cry. "By the time I get back, you'll be talking."

  "Gon go," said Wraith.

  "I called in favors," said Saber, tears standing out in his eyes. "I have to go. I swear I'll come back as soon as I play my part. This is strictly short-term. A real baddie to put down." He smiled. "We like taking them down, don't we?"

  "Go go mo," said Wraith, looking at her left hand, still in traction.

  "Not anymore maybe," said Saber. "You Valkyries are the strongest people around. Whatever you want to do, you'll do it, no matter how long it takes to get there."

  "Go guk," said Wraith.

  "Thank you. I'll need good luck to make this as short as possible." He kissed her with butterfly kisses, while he tried not to look at her left arm. It was in a spider's web of metal and white traction.

  "Go go gi," she said.

  "Or on it," he said, putting his forehead to hers. "Love you with everything."

  "Gov gu," said Wraith.

  Tears filled his eyes. "Love you too," said Saber. "Be back as soon as I can." He kissed her again, and she smiled, just a tiny bit. He smiled back, and left.

  Life returned to normal, except for rotating through sitting with Wraith and Sigrun. Wraith was finally downgraded enough to where they could be in the same room, with Sigrun almost ready to go home. That cut the rotating in half. So, Callie was happy to go to see the “ladies,” as she called them. She found markers that had ink that glowed in the dark, and others that were glittery. She bought black paper to go with them, and put them in a bag for Sigrun. She found a gel ball for Wraith that she could squeeze and pummel, and even throw if she got really mad. The old Wraith was there, just imprisoned in a body that needed time to heal. She also brought her laptop, loaded with programs designed for those in traction to get more movement, and to work on their language centers.

  She hugged Herja, who was showing Sigrun and Wraith a video of their latest open-field fighting session. Wraith slowly raised her right knee, and put it down.

  Sigrun put her hand over her mouth. "What the hell?"

  "Fiz zu kul ter a pee," said Wraith, slowly sounding out the word. The syllables sounded like marbles in her mouth, but were very recognizable."

  Callie pretended it was no big deal. "Physical therapy sucks. Got you in speech therapy, too?"

  "No," said Wraith. "Tal-king be-cause Vu may-kus me."

  Callie smiled. "Guess what we're going to do today?" She went over and gently hugged and kissed Sigrun, then took the ball out of the bag, and handed it to Sigrun. Sigrun eagerly pulled out the gel pens.

  "Wha?" asked Wraith. Callie went over and touched her good arm, then butterfly-kissed her cheek. She put the ball in Wraith's good hand. "You need to relearn how to squeeze a ball, and how to pitch something at someone's head if you're mad."

  Sigrun giggled. She was still on pain meds. "You'll get us kicked out when Wraith beans the physical therapist in the head." She laughed again. "Or the nutritionist. The food is horrific."

  Wraith pulled out the bag that had been hidden inside the one with the pens and ball. "Orange chicken, two kinds of dim sum, egg drop soup. Fortune cookies," said Sigrun, aroused at the thought of yummy Chinese.

  "Damn you," said Herja. "Now I'll have to stop by Bao's mother's place and pick up Chinese on the way home." She put away her laptop, slid the bag on her shoulder, kissed everyone goodbye, and left.

  Sigrun fed herself, and Callie fed Wraith the soup, with tiny bites of the chicken, and the mini dim sum. Then, she helped Sigrun to the bathroom to clean up, disposed of the evidence in a trash can, and read to Wraith. She had Wraith read a line back to her, while also typing some of the words. They had switched to a Dvorak keyboard, and now she could type one-handed much faster. She put on Mavis Beatty Teaches Typing, and set it to a typing game to where a lizard gobbled typed letters.

  She heard Wraith's breathing get labored. "I hate Ma-vis Bea Tee," said Wraith. "Dat bitch."

  Sigrun laughed as she came out of the toilet. "I do too, but my typing is much faster. I'm able to finish up Asian Art Online. Getting caught up, even."

  "Good," said Callie. "We'll get you home and finishing off paintings for your other class. Did you get anything done for the other two classes?"

  "Had to drop them," said Sigrun. "I did ask if I could draw certain... medical things. 'The Art of Imperfection,' I'm calling it. They said if it is an entire small portfolio, it would work. So, I'm doing line drawings."

  "Of my ha und," said Wraith. "Ugh."

  "No," said Callie. "It's brilliant. People do drawings like that to design 3D printed devices that can help people in medical settings. If you can make the drawings as realistic as you can, you can help people design better things to help people."

  "3D art," said Sigrun. "Interesting."

  "It's actually a great field to go into," said Callie. "Now, let's finish with that bitch Mavis --and then you can tell me a story."

  "Bitch," said Wraith, clearly, as Sigrun toddled back to bed on Callie's arm.

  "Abso-fucking-lutely," said Callie.

  At home, Callie came in. Ivy was hyped up from a great night at work, and was now singing in the kitchen. The babies were asleep; Henry and David had worn them out playing baby games. Hu and Grace were with Bao.

  "Your ice cream sundae awaits," she said. Callie kissed her deeply. "What brought that on?" asked Ivy.

  "What happened to Wraith could happen to anyone, at any time. She's progressing as fast as she can. When Saber gets back, he's going to kick himself for missing Sigrun going home, and Wraith talking again. She moved her knee today." She sat down at the breakfast bar. Ivy kissed her again, and put a scoop of butter pecan ice cream in front of her, with caramel, whipped cream, and a cherry. Callie dug in.

  "They are good together, you know?" said Ivy, putting away the ice cream. "A three-person marriage. Works for me." She laughed.

  "Not us," said Callie, pointing a spoon at her. "We're too damn busy to date other people."

  Ivy laughed. "We are burning the candle at four ends, aren't we?"

  Callie licked caramel off her spoon. "I need... I need..."

  Ivy opened the door to the refrigerator, pulled out the box of Girl Scout Thin Mints, added two to the sundae, and put the cookies back in the refrigerator."

  "Bless you," said Callie, and took a mouthful of mint chocolate goodness. She swallowed and said, "How do you always know exactly what I need?"

  Ivy smiled. "Practice."

  "How did it go at the bar?"

  "I sang 'What A Girl Wants.' It was all about you, baby."

  "That's so sweet!" said Callie.

  She finished her ice
cream, cookies, and caramel, and handed the empty bowl back to Ivy. She licked the last of the caramel off the spoon, and handed that over, too. Ivy rinsed them and put them in the dishwasher.

  Ivy came over, and pulled off Callie's simple black tee. Callie pulled off Ivy's "Rock On" tee, and kissed her. They fondled each other's breasts. Ivy was the first to unclasp Callie's bra, letting the breasts spill out into her hand.

  "Mmmm," Ivy said, and sucked them one by one.

  It took Callie longer, but she got Ivy's bra off, and played with the tips while Ivy made her moan. She came, and returned the favor. Ivy came, and they stood, throwing off clothes, and ended up in the living room. The new couch had a double recliner. Ivy took one end, shoved Callie into it, pulled off her jeans, and spread her legs. She kissed her, hard, and pulled off her underwear. Callie tried to reach over to unbutton her jeans, but Ivy shoved her hands away.

  She explored her wife, stroked her with her hands, then her tongue. Ivy bit her neck, licked the tips of her breasts, and made her moan and cry out. She put her fingers inside, making Callie come up to reach her, bow her back, and scream out in pleasure. She made Callie come, again and again --and again, using her fingers, her tongue, licking and sucking and putting her fingers deep inside. She came when Callie did, hard and rough, and felt something inside of herself unwind. As if it kind of snapped back into place. Her magic wife; loving and healing, and just for her.

  She picked up the dirty clothes and left her wife there, naked and gasping, legs like rubber. She put their clothes in the wash in the laundry room, and she put the load that was in the washer into the dryer. It was made up of baby things that were waiting to be spun. She came back, and helped her wife up to bed. They put on underwear, yoga pants, and camisoles, and held each other in the dark.

  Ivy couldn't sleep. She was sick with heartbreak and rage. She couldn't fathom it. Yes, Wraith and Saber went after dangerous people. Yes, Sigrun knew this. She also knew that Sigrun put herself in the line of fire by loving them. But, the cost was so high. Wraith had a long recovery from a brain injury, with months of learning to speak, move, walk again, and with possible memory problems. Callie and Vu were miracle workers, pushing Wraith far past where the doctors expected her to be. Sigrun had gunshot recovery, and had to scramble to catch up on her art classes. Art school was expensive; she couldn't drop what she was doing. She was clever, and finding ways around the problem. But, their lives now revolved around hospitals, doctors, prognoses, and fighting against them. Or taking care of the kitten, who treated Skuld's kitchen as a place to mount an assault, knocking spices and utensils to the ground and pouncing on them. And they'd need money, wouldn't they? The Valkyries had two of their own in the hospital, with Wraith still critical, and Sigrun who was expected to fully recover. Sigrun had measly student insurance, and couldn't cover the cost of her own care, much at all.

  They needed a rally, a bike rally; one all three clubs could participate in. She brought out her maps on her tablet and laptop, and plotted a route. California looked great, and the Iron Knights and Valkyries were there as well. So, she settled on San Diego, texted Herja, and planned out the route there and back. She got a text back, and although it was nearly three in the morning, Herja said Hrist in San Diego wanted an oval trip. From San Diego to Olympia in Washington, then on small highways, to Reno, then back to Vegas. Herja also sent a route map, and Ivy loved it. She texted it to Ace, and, despite the late hour, got a “Do it!” text back. Ivy sent the info to Sigrun with the route map, and asked for some artwork. She then went to bed.

  "Why the fuck aren't you asleep?" asked Callie, with one eye open.

  "Needed a plan. Made one. We're going on a ride." Ivy kissed her.

  "Mmmf," said Callie.

  The Iron Knights loved the plan, and started getting their bikes ready to go. The Soldier Pack scrambled to get bikes ready for both themselves and any Wolfpack members who still needed a bike and wanted to go. Once every weld was checked, they were all pronounced "graduated" from the program, and the Valkyries, Iron Knights, and Nighthawks told them to talk it over and, after the trip, they would determine if they wanted to set up shop at home with some seed money. Alternatively, they could set up shop in small towns near Las Vegas. The apartments needed to be vacated for the next group. The clubs scrambled to help Tito and Nico find apartments and garages that could be bought at auction in several small towns nearby, like Mesquite, Nevada, and Hemet, and California, for those who wanted to choose that location.

  Valkyries from all over the country came, and signed up their Iron Knight brethren from as far away as Maine and Fort Lauderdale. The Nighthawks came, loaded down with donated sandwiches and homemade chips made from produce from their vast, vertical garden. Mike and Nantan had started experimenting with ginger ale and apple ciders --and sodas they bottled in reusable containers, which were definitely a huge hit.

  Kieran and Pavel came down, with dogs in boxes on their bikes that they had bought from the Soldier Pack. They were introduced all around.

  "How do you train those dogs?" asked Mike, while passing out ginger ale.

  Pavel said, "It takes about a year to train dogs. We train dogs that recognize epileptic attacks, or soothe autistic kids. We have dogs kids read to, that will sit still and listen, and dogs that help with depression and anxiety disorders."

  "You train the bomb sniffing and drug dogs?" asked Spear.

  "Bomb sniffing and drug dogs we leave to the police to train. Not exactly a good idea for people still in college to try to collect bomb and drug residue the dogs can train to sniff," said Kieran. "Homeland Security may get nervous."

  "We adopt them from shelters or rescue societies for specific breeds, like golden retrievers, or shih-tzus or pugs," said Pavel. "Then, they get the basic commands, by voice and by sign." He called over the pug named Mabel, and told her to come. He did it by holding his hand down and moving it toward himself by pointing down, and to lay down --by making his hand flat and lowering it.

  Soon, a group from the Soldier Pack were around the dog trainers, learning the commands by practicing on Mabel and a happy little shih-tzu named Onyx, named for his black fur. There was a lot of talking and laughing. They practiced on Henry's Bess, and Ivy's pug, called Jake. She'd left the dachshund (Daisy) at home with the infants, and with Callie, Bao, and the Wolfpack who didn't want to go, or who had face-to-face classes.

  Henry explained about how the dog boxes and harnesses for the backs of bikes or the sidecars worked. Ghost proudly informed them the boxes they'd made got their straps on the reservation, then went to people all over the world. They loaded up the dogs when Herja and her soldiers came up behind her. Some of the soldiers practiced the commands on each other as they loaded themselves onto their bikes, provoking laughter, and they were off to San Diego. Off, with Ivy and Skuld in the lead.

  The Iron Knights met them at Boulder City; they had camped at Lake Mead overnight, along with some of the Soldier Pack and the Vegas Valkyries. They racked up the songs, including Truckin' by the Grateful Dead, Springsteen's Born to Run, and Whitesnake's classic, Here I Go Again. As they rode, they accumulated more and more bike clubs. The Gearheads argued bike building and maintenance with Bonnie, Ghost, Killa, and any of the Soldier Pack who would listen. The Soul Brothers caught up when they ate lunch on the other side of the Mojave National Reserve, and with some teenagers who had never left Las Vegas before. They took the scenic route through Joshua Tree National Park, and avoided Los Angeles by taking the California 62. They took a series of smaller roadways, enjoying the scenery, stopping to use the restroom, walk dogs, or eat and catch up with the long train of riders. They took over a series of hotels just north of San Diego on the Pacific Coast Highway, and set up tents on the beach as well, and at a campsite on the bay. They changed into swim shorts, shirts, and casual tops, and went swimming. They lazed in the sun, had a massive cookout, and Ivy and Herja had them up singing, well into the night.

  They hit up La Jolla for breakfas
t, taking over several diners. They stopped off at Santa Monica Pier, and played volleyball on Venice Beach. They all shopped. They ate lunch in various Venice and Santa Monica restaurants, then headed back out onto the highway. They collected more members from various groups, including two very tall Valkyries, and a lot of Iron Knights; most of them cops and firefighters taking time off before wildfire season started, in earnest.

  They headed up to Santa Barbara, and had fun in the museums and bought some chocolate. Then they went to Santa Cruz and stopped by the boardwalk. Some went to Wilder Ranch State Park for hiking. They met up at the wharf for dinner and dancing, then headed to a beach campsite for the night. They sang, they danced, drank sodas and beer, roasted marshmallows to make s'mores, and generally had a disgusting amount of fun.

  David encircled Henry with his arms. "What do you think?"

  "I think we needed to get away from the farm, said Henry. "I was getting so exhausted that I couldn't remember who I talked to about what, or why. I had people on my schedule I talked to, because the call was logged, but I had no idea what we discussed."

  "Mental fog," said David. "I love the babies, and the kids, and the Wolfpack, and every single horse and pony. But, I'm thinking we need some alone time."

  "No one seems to be paying attention to us," said Henry. "Let's sneak away."

  They turned, and David led Henry to their tent. They kicked off their sandals, unrolled the sleeping bags, then zipped them together. They zipped shut the tent, turned off the lantern, and held hands for a long time. David kissed Henry so slowly, so very gently. Then, they moved together, pulling off T-shirts and board shorts, and they slid into the sleeping bag.

  David caressed Henry's face. "Love," he said.

  "Quiet," said Henry, putting his fingers on David's lips. "We don't want anyone stopping by with questions, or concerns, or handing out drinks..."