Broken Songbird (Vicious Games #2)

3. Chapter 3

I ’m having a really shit day.

More like a shit year, but today really takes the fucking cake. I adjust for the hundredth time in the hard waiting room chair, the slice in my arm throbbing like a bitch any time I move.

I knew this meeting was going to go to shit. When I saw Del so shaken up at Raph’s, and that Adrian was in that alley with one of his men, I just fucking knew . I raced to the Navarro meeting as soon as I left Del at Luxuria and was barely off my bike when the first shot flew, killing Smiley, a patched member of my club. The next one sliced through my arm, and then the next…

I adjust again, this time hissing at the pain pounding through my arm.

“Can you please go get checked out?”

I sit back, turning slightly to meet tired, chocolate-brown eyes. Scarlett is heart-stopping when she’s all done up and dressed in finery, but like this, all fresh-faced in sweatpants and a camisole, using Lucas’ jacket as a blanket—she’s fucking soul-snatching.

Her long, honey-blonde hair is piled high in a haphazard bun away from her face, revealing a scattering of pale freckles across her nose and cheeks that I’ve never seen. She even has a beauty spot on her bottom lip I didn’t notice last time. I want to trace it with my tongue.

I shuffle again in my seat, my efforts to cover my growing erection make another wave of pain shoot up my arm.

“ Fuck ,” I groan under my breath and turn back to Scar. “The doc will give me meds, right?”

Scar immediately scrambles from her seat, sticking her arms through the jacket sleeves, and then holds out a hand to me. Her offering of assistance makes me snort out a soft laugh as I stand on my own and tower over her, remembering just how tiny she is without heels on.

Memories of her surprisingly strong legs wrapped around me as I had her pinned to the hotel shower wall flash through my mind. The way her body gripped me while I fucked her into the tile. Fuck, the shit I would do to have her again.

I force my attention away from plotting just that and look over to Phantom in the corner. He’s already looking at me expectantly. Even after being in my club for the last five months, I still know little about him, but he follows directives without question and that’s all I need right now.

“Text me if anything changes before I get back,” I tell him, and he nods, returning his attention back to the book in his hand. Despite his placid demeanour, I’ve seen Phantom take down three guys with a flick of the wrist.

Scar steps up to my uninjured side as we walk out of the waiting area, getting instructions from the nurse at the ICU entrance about how to get back to the emergency room. When we get down to the right place, Scar approaches the nurse’s station and one of the nurses seems to recognise her.

They talk softly for a few moments before I’m escorted to a small, curtained area, and instructed to lie on a stretcher as the nurse inserts an I.V. drip into my hand. To my surprise, he doesn’t ask about how I got the injury as he peels off the dressings and inspects the wound. He doesn’t really acknowledge my club cut, either.

“You cleaned this out really well,” he says to Scar behind him.

“Thanks.” She’s been standing at the end of the bed watching the nurse intently through the whole interaction like she’s studying the movements.

He covers the wound again, steps to the mobile computer station and types quickly, tells me he’ll be back with supplies to stitch me up and then wheels his computer station away.

“Is your actual name Creed?” Scar asks when he’s out of earshot.

I smile. “I’m pretty sure reading medical files is a breach of some kind of law.”

“Good thing your admittance file says ‘Scarlett Sakura’ ,” she quips back.

I frown, confused. “I’m fairly certain that nurse can tell the difference between my six-foot-four good looks and your five-foot beauty.”

She narrows her eyes at me as she swats my biker boot with the back of her hand. “I’m five-foot-three, thank you very much. And be grateful that he usually works over at the children’s hospital with my dad, so I know him and he’s doing me a favour.”

I give her a smile I know shows my dimples. “Then let me show you my gratitude.”

She gives me a withering look. “You have a hole in your arm.”

I laugh, the sound throaty. “I only need one good hand when you’re sitting on my face.”

She swats my boot again, this time a little harder. “We’re in public.”

I shrug. “I don’t mind being watched.”

She twists to lean against the wall with a huff, looking away from me and at the opposite wall. The pink splotches on her neck give away the fact that she’s definitely thinking about it.

“My birth certificate says Creed.” I finally answer her question. She doesn’t turn back to me, but I can tell the confirmation has piqued her interest. “Creed Vasek.”

The additional information of my last name draws her attention back to me. “No middle name?”

I shake my head. “What about you?”

“Farren.”

“Is it a name of a distant relative or…”

Scar shrugs. “I don’t know. I was adopted when I was seven.”

I nod. “And your birth parents are out of the picture?”

“They’re both dead.”

“Condolences.”

“More like good riddance,” she mutters.

Before I can dissect that response, Scar pulls her phone from her pants pocket and brings it to her ear.

“Hey Dad… I’m fine… No, you don’t have to come… I promise I’m fine… I know they didn’t call you, which means you’re snooping. Go home… I love you, bye .” She ends the call and pockets the phone.

I pull my own phone out as the curtains draw back and the nurse from earlier wheels in a tray filled with medical paraphernalia. As he rattles on about what he’s about to do, I check my messages. Nothing from Phantom, which is good, but also nothing from Hawk or Ink.

Ink and Hawk joined the founding chapter of Savage Wings in Brisbane a decade ago. I’ve met both of them a handful of times over the years on runs, was already thinking about offering Ink VP when the Herrington warehouse was attacked five months ago, taking out two of my guys.

Rambo, the mother chapter’s President, agreed almost immediately when I asked to present the transfer. To my advantage, Ink and Hawk are Melbourne-born and were eager to come home, but only if I also took Phantom. I never asked the specifics on why Phantom wanted to leave.

My club brothers had no objections given the circumstances, and that we’ve been a small club for a while; it was time for some new blood.

“I’m going to numb the area now, so this might pinch,” the nurse says.

I grunt out an affirmative sound and look at Scar instead of the needle in my periphery. She’s watching the nurse again with singular focus.

“Do you want to be a doctor like your dad?” I ask her, ignoring the prick of the needle in my arm.

Her eyes flick to me. “I’m going into nursing. And then midwifery.”

“You always wanted to do that?”

She hums an agreement.

“Any particular reason?”

“A few,” she says cryptically. She’s not making it easy to get to know her.

And I want to know her. Since the moment we met there was something about her that called to me. I know she’s young, too young if I’m honest, but there’s weariness behind her chocolate-brown eyes that tells me she’s lived more than she should have already. That kind of weariness I know all too well.

Like calls to like.

“Have you picked a school yet?” I ask, trying to get something .

She nods, withholding again, and turns her attention back to the nurse. Half my arm is numb now, but I can feel the tugging of the nurse stitching me up. Scar asks him stitch technique and other medical questions as I drop my head back and stare at the roof.

My phone buzzes in my hand, and my heart jumps as I lift it.

INK

Everything all sorted here. Hawk’s taking over so the guys can get some rest. I’ll be back at the hospital soon.

“Was that Phantom?” Scar asks. I look up, worry creasing her expression.

“It was Ink.”

Relief softens her face. “Is everything…okay?”

I nod. “All sorted.”

“Good,” she says absently, watching the nurse covering my wound.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

That gets her attention. “I’m… Uh.”

“No news is good news.”

The nurse stands, cleaning up quickly, takes my I.V. out and gives Scar a prescription for antibiotics and painkillers before he leaves. Scar leans against the wall, playing with the sleeves of Lucas’ jacket as I stand and stretch, careful with my arm.

“We weren’t…” Scar trails off. “We weren’t even anything, not really, but it feels like I’m losing that something.”

I turn to big brown eyes brimming with heartbreak. “He’s in good hands. Enzo wouldn’t entrust him with any less.”

“But what if he goes?” she whispers, a tear slipping down her cheek.

I cross to her, cupping her face, swiping away the tear. Her lip trembles as more tears fall. “And you? What will you do?”

I sigh, pulling her into a hug. “You live. We both do. He would hate for either of us to check out just because he’s not here.”

She wraps her arms around me tightly, burying her face in my chest, taking shaky breaths. My heart aches with hers at the possibility of a life without Teo.

“The first time we met, Matteo tried to kill me,” I say, trying to distract the both of us.

“You probably deserved it,” she mumbles.

I chuckle. “I was doing business on Herrington territory before we joined forces.”

Scar pulls back and swipes at her face. “Let’s not reminisce like he’s already gone.” She steps out of my arms and gives me a watery smile. “The pharmacy won’t be open for another three hours, so we’ll get the medication later.”

I nod, stepping back and pulling open the curtains. “Let’s get back.”

We find our way back to the ICU easier this time, the new nurse buzzing us through the doors into the waiting area. Scar pauses in front of me as she watches Phantom walking toward us with his phone in his hand. He stops when he sees us.

That look.

Fuck.

“No,” Scar whispers without Phantom saying a word, stepping back into me. “No, no, no .”

A choked sob echoes in the quiet space. Scar rushes forward toward the sound. Behind Phantom, I see Del crumpled on the floor at Enzo’s feet, a male doctor speaking to Enzo with a solemn look on his face.

Scar drops to the floor in front of Del, dragging her into an embrace, looking back at me. So many things pass across her face—disbelief, heartbreak, betrayal.

He’s gone.

Matteo’s gone.