I pulled my phone from the pocket of my shirt and answered it quickly before the ringer started blaring.
“Yeah?”
There was silence on the end of the line, and I tensed as I waited.
“Patrick?”
“Amy?”
“Phoenix,” she gasped as if she was trying to catch her breath, and I immediately tucked the phone into the space between my neck and my shoulder so I could use both hands to slide Brenna’s head onto the couch. “They think someone beat him, Patrick. Someone hurt him bad.”
“Where are ye?” I barked, knowing that I should temper my voice, but unable to do it with the panic coursing through my veins.
“We’re at Emmanuel in Portland. They called me when they brought him in but—” she sniffled again. “They haven’t let me see him and no one is telling me anything.”
“Ye alone?”
“Ken’s here. Shit. Mat. Mat’s here.”
Ken?
“Nix’s Mat?”
“Yeah.”
“Can ye give him de phone?”
There was a shuffling noise for a couple of seconds, and while I waited I walked toward the boys standing around the pool table. As they noticed me, I motioned with my head and they all nodded, moving off to talk to their women.
“Trick?”
“Hey, Mat. What’s goin’ on, man?”
“I don’t know,” the poor kid said quietly.
“Ye haven’t heard anythin’?”
“I’ve got a friend, she works in the ER and she was supposed to text me, but she hasn’t.”
“Maybe she hasn’t got a chance yet. Gotta give them time to see what’s what. Everything’s probably fine—just gotta be patient, boyo. I need you to stay with Amy, okay? I’m on my way, but I won’t be there for hours yet—you stay with her even if you hear from your friend.”
“I will. I will. Do you want me to call you if we hear anything? God, Trick, I don’t understand why it’s taking so long.” He sniffed hard at the other end of the line, and my stomach clenched.
Amy’s tears I understood, that was her baby boy. But if Mat was upset enough to cry, I knew that things were not good.
“Yeah, mate. Call if you hear anythin’. I’ll be on the bike, so leave a message and I’ll check back in a bit.”
“Okay.”
“Stay with Amy.”
“I will. Patrick?”
“Yeah, kid?”
“I was supposed to go with him,” he whispered. “We had plans but I wanted to stay home because work’s been so crazy. I didn’t—fuck—I should have been with him.”
I stopped next to my bike and felt my stomach roll. A small part of me wanted to yell. I wanted to tell him that, yes, he should have fucking been there. As a parent, I wanted to blame the little fucker for not having Nix’s back.
But I would never say such a thing aloud. Because I knew with absolute certainty that whatever happened was not his fault… and the guilt was going to poison him from the inside out without a single word from me.
“Could have happened even if ye were there, Mat,” I said instead. “Could be ye in there with him, yeah? I’ll call ye soon.”
I hung up the phone, and had to brace myself on my bike for a moment.
That’s where Slider, Dragon, Grease and Casper found me a few minutes later.
“I need you boys with me,” I said, grabbing my helmet.
“What’s goin’ on, Poet?” Slider asked.
“Amy just called. Said Nix got jumped.”
“Motherfucker. He alright?”
“Not sure—Amy’s worried outta her mind and they’re not tellin’ her shite.”
“They in Portland?”
“Emmanuel.”
“You need me there?”
“No, brother. Not sure how well that would go over and I don’t want to add to her worry.”
“Yeah, I get it.” Slider ran his hand over his short goatee. “You’ll let me know when you hear somethin’?”
My life from before rarely mixed with the one in Eugene. I’d never wanted Brenna to question where she’d come from or the love I’d felt for her mother—especially after we’d lost her—but the boys at the club knew Nix. Slider had taken an interest in the boy from the very beginning, when he’d first come for a visit during his freshman year in college, probably because he was Amy’s. I knew the man would be worried as hell until I got to Portland and found out what the fuck was going on.
“I’ll keep ye posted,” I agreed, then turned to the lads. “Ye boys up for a ride to Portland?”
“Yup.”
“I’m down.”
“They know who did it?” Grease asked, crossing his arms across his chest.
“Not yet, but I sure as fuck will,” I said roughly.
We left immediately, and even riding well over the speed limit, it still took us hours before we were pulling into the emergency parking lot at the hospital. I hadn’t heard one word from Amy or Mat, and by the time we’d stowed our colors and walked in the sliding glass doors, I was strung tight as a bow.
“I’m lookin’ for Phoenix Gallagher,” I told the receptionist, making Dragon’s eyes snap to me in surprise.
“I’m sorry sir, we can’t give out information—”
“I’m his da,” I interrupted, slapping my driver’s license on the countertop. “Where’s me son?”
“It looks like he’s in surgery. Let me make you guys some nametags so you can get there without a problem.”
We were on the move again and riding the elevator to the surgery floor in minutes, but it felt like the woman had taken as long as she possibly could to write two words on a sticker with a fucking marker.
“Lucy, you got some 'splainin’ to do,” Dragon mumbled behind me.
“Shut it, Ricky,” I snapped back, the lights of the hospital giving me a headache after riding in the dark for so long. Where was my boy? Fuck, I was losing it.
I saw Amy the minute the elevator doors opened, and my first instinct was to go straight to her and pull her against me, but I held myself back. Instead, I walked slowly toward where she and Mat were sitting quietly, not saying a word until she looked up and caught sight of me.
“They took him into surgery,” she said, standing up to meet us. “His spleen was ruptured, so they had to take care of that first.” Her hands came up to cover her mouth and I moved without thought.
I pulled her tight against me and dropped my face to her shoulder, the lump in my throat threatening to choke me. She felt so small there, like she was shrinking into herself, and I tortured myself with the thought that she’d been where Nix was, but with no hospital and no support past my mum and Doc. It made me want to go back and slice Malcolm to pieces all over again.
“He’ll be alright,” I assured her, rubbing her back gently. “Best trauma hospital in de state—dey know what dey’re doin.’ ”
“His face, Patrick.” She sobbed, “It was so swollen.”
“Boy was too pretty to begin wit’, yeah? It’ll give his mug some character.”
“I can’t believe this is happening,” she whispered, pulling away from me. “Thank you for coming.”
“Wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
I glanced up to find the lads standing around uncomfortably, and Dragon watching the interaction closely with absolutely no expression.
“Boys,” I said, lightly grasping Amy’s arm to turn her toward them. “Dis is Amy, Phoenix’s mum. Amy, dis is Casper, Dragon and Grease.”
“Nice names,” she commented with a snort, making me grin.
“Call me Asa, ma’am.” Grease said, reaching out to grasp her hand.
“Cody,” Casper followed.
“Dragon.”
“Gonna stick with Dragon, huh?” Amy asked as she grasped his hand.
“Only name I answer to,” he replied with a twitch of his lips.
“You guys know my son?” she asked, stepping back to my side.
She didn’t touch
me, but my breath still sped up at her movement. If she knew what she’d done, she’d immediately step away again, and I wanted her there next to me. The fact that she’d instinctively moved to my side after staying as far away as she could for so long was… she may as well have kissed me.
“Yeah,” Grease answered her, “Known Nix for years.”
“He never said anything about a gorgeous mother, though,” Casper chimed in with a crooked smile.
“Watch it,” I warned, making the boys laugh.
“You can call me gorgeous all damn day,” Amy argued, before glancing over her shoulder. “You guys met Mat yet?”
We walked toward the man hunched over in his chair, and I couldn’t help but feel incredibly sorry for him. His eyes were bloodshot, his clothes were wrinkled as hell, and the mop of blonde hair on his head was literally standing on end.
“Hey, Mat,” I said, reaching out to shake his hand. “Good to see ye.”
“Hey, Trick.”
“The boyfriend?” Grease mouthed to Dragon.
My boys were standing silently, their chests puffed out like a bunch of roosters and theirs arms crossed over their chests.
Jesus Christ.
“Where were you?” Grease said quietly, and I honestly thought Mat was going to shit himself right there in the middle of the hospital waiting room.
“Enough, Grease—”
“I was home asleep,” Mat replied, his eyes filling with tears. “I was just tired—I just didn’t want to go out and watch football at a fucking bar. I wanted to sit on my motherfucking couch and watch the game in my goddamn underwear.”
His words got stronger as he got angrier, and it was a relief when the broken man stood up and started pacing. The lads all watched closely as Mat ran his hand over his hair—showing us exactly how it had gotten so messy—and one by one, their bodies relaxed. Casper was new—and younger—but Grease and Dragon had been protective of Nix since the first time he’d shown up at the garage on a rusted old Honda. The fact that Nix had never brought Mat by the garage made them suspicious.
“Are you the family of Phoenix Gallagher?”
I spun around to catch sight of a man in light blue scrubs walking toward us.
“I’m his mother,” Amy stated, taking a couple steps forward.
“Hello. I’m Dr. Albright. We’ve just finished with Phoenix, and the surgery went beautifully—”
I didn’t hear the rest of the words as my legs began to tingle, and I wondered for a moment if I was going to hit the floor in a heap from the relief that made me dizzy.
“Steady, brother,” Dragon mumbled, gripping my shoulder until I caught my balance again.
By that time, the doctor was already walking back through the double doors he’d come out of and I’d missed almost everything he’d said.
“Thank God,” Amy murmured, a wide smile on her face. “Thank God. Thank God.” The last word was a sob, and she dropped her face into her hands, covering her entire face beneath her fingers.
My legs were instantly steady and in working order.
“Shhh,” I soothed, stepping forward to pull her against my chest as she moaned into her hands. “Come on now, love, ye’ve gotta calm a bit or ye’ll make yerself sick.”
Her fingers dug into my chest as she gripped my t-shirt, but she couldn’t seem to stop the sobs that wracked her body.
“Did dey say when we could see him?” I asked Casper, who was standing the closest to us.
“He’s in recovery now—an hour or so and they’ll let one or two people back.”
“Only an hour, sweetheart,” I murmured into Amy’s hair as her sobs calmed to hiccupping breaths. “Ye want some coffee, or a soda maybe?”
She shook her head but didn’t raise it as she continued clutching my shirt tightly, almost like she was afraid I was going to let her go. Christ, hadn’t she figured it out yet? I’d continue to hold her as long as she’d allow it.
***
Two hours passed before they allowed us back to see Nix. He’d had some sort of reaction to the anesthesia and they’d wanted to keep a close eye on things for a while longer than they’d told us in the beginning.
They’d only allow two people in the room at a time, and I’d clenched my jaw as Mat and Amy stood up to follow the nurse back, but within a few steps Amy had paused and rested her hand on Mat’s arm.
“I think it should be me and Patrick at first, okay, Mat?” She said it kindly, but it really wasn’t a question.
“Oh, sure,” he replied, glancing back to where I was getting to my feet. “I’ll just wait for one of you to come out.”
I took his place as we followed the dark haired nurse, and I glanced over at Amy’s face as we walked, curious about where her head was at. It didn’t take long before she started to speak.
“You’re his dad,” she said, focusing her eyes straight ahead. “I mean, as close as he’s ever had to one. You should be one of the first ones in there.”
I nodded, but I couldn’t answer her because, for the first time since I’d gotten her phone call, I felt tears burn at the backs of my eyes. His da. To say I was honored would have been a massive understatement.
Chapter 51
Amy
Every fear I’d had over the course of Nix’s life had coalesced into that single moment when I met his eyes after surgery.
He was groggy and his face was still really swollen. During the few hours we’d been apart, his skin had begun to bruise in shades varying from raspberry to almost black, and they’d set the broken bone in his wrist while he was out of it.
But none of those things were as bad as the look in his eyes. It was pure fear and confusion—like he couldn’t even understand what had happened.
“Mum,” he mumbled through swollen lips.
“Hey, baby,” I replied gently, walking forward until I was standing next to the edge of his bed. “I’d kiss ya, but I’m afraid I’d hurt those Angelina Jolie lips you’ve got goin’ on.”
“Ma mouth tathteth like ath,” he said, his words so garbled I had a hard time understanding him. “An ma tongue hurth like a motha.”
“Ye probably bit de hell out of it,” Patrick spoke up, finally coming into the room.
“Twick!” Nix said in surprise, one side of his mouth pulling up a little before falling again. His eyes darkened in embarrassment as they jerked back and forth between us, and I saw him swallow painfully. “You doin’ hea?”
“Had to come see me boy,” Patrick replied softly, stopping on the other side of Nix’s bed. “Ye look like shite.”
“Ya thould thee the otha guy,” Nix joked with no change in expression.
“Only one?”
I bit the inside of my cheek as we waited for his answer. I knew. I knew that there was no way one guy did this much damage to my boy. My son was big, and he was incredibly strong, and after years of visiting Patrick at the club, I knew he could take care of himself. So the fact that he was in the hospital just out of surgery because he’d been beaten so badly? There had to have been more than one person involved.
“Fow o five, I thin,” Nix answered, dropping his head gingerly back onto the pillows. My stomach clenched in horror. He hadn’t stood a chance.
“Ye recognize any of dem?”
“Theen couple of vem awoun. At the bah prett offen.” Nix’s eyes closed, and two tears rolled down the sides of his face as his nostrils flared.
“Alright, son,” Patrick said gently, “Alright.”
He reached out to brush Nix’s wild hair gently off his forehead, and my throat felt so thick it was hard for me to breathe.
“Lads are here wit’ me, we’ll take care of dis—” Patrick promised.
“Don let em back heah,” Nix said quietly, defeat in every line of his body.
“Nix—” I began, but Patrick cut me off.
“Look at me,” he ordered quietly, leaning down into Nix’s face.
My son’s eyes opened, and the shame there nearly brought me to m
y knees.
“Ye—” Patrick stopped and cleared his throat, sniffing once before speaking again. “Ye get a few of yer own in?”
Nix nodded slightly, his eyes watering.
“Dat’s me boy,” Patrick said vehemently. “Ye have not one t’ing to be ashamed about, ye understand me?” His head lowered even farther until Nix had no option of looking away. “Dere is no shame in bein’ outnumbered.”
“Ith becauthe I’m gay,” Nix whispered as if that was important, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Ca me a faggot.”
Patrick reared back as if he’d been hit, and the fury on his face was overwhelming.
“Ye did not come from me body,” Patrick said fiercely, staring into Nix’s overflowing eyes and cupping his face so gently their skin was barely touching. “But ye are me son. And ye are exactly as God made ye. Dere is not one t’ing wrong wit’ ye, Phoenix Robert Gallagher, and I’ll kill any man who says ot'erwise.”
Nix chest lurched as he tried to hold back a sob, and I laid my hand over my eyes to hide my despair.
I remember being afraid of every sharp corner and uneven step when Nix was a baby. I’d seen danger everywhere, and I’d been riddled with anxiety any time he’d attempt to sit up or crawl or walk. There were so many things he could hurt himself on.
As he grew older, the focus changed. It was slow, but eventually I got more comfortable with his physical safety and I’d worried more about his emotional safety. There’s nothing quite like dropping your kindergartener off on the first day and forcing yourself to walk away from them. Was he scared? Was he crying? What if the other kids were mean? Did I put the right t-shirt on him or was that cartoon considered uncool? It didn’t stop; if anything, that feeling of fear grew as he got older.
I couldn’t protect him any more, not physically or emotionally, and now he’d been unbelievably hurt. That realization was like someone cutting out my heart.
“Mum, don’ cry,” Nix said, grabbing my loose shirt in his fingers. “I’m gon be fine.”
“I’m so sorry this happened to you,” I replied, pulling a few tissues from his nightstand to wipe my face. “Christ, Nix.”