and she’d followed him around everywhere. He hadn’t known what to do with an adoring little girl with stars in her eyes. But his basal instincts had kicked in, and even when he was a lost little shit, he’d been protective of Madigan.
“You’ll be fine,” Preacher said. “It’s only one night, Pops.”
“This is the safest place for you, Gramps. You know that,” Baz said.
“You’re a doctor. You could have sewn up my head,” Mike grumbled.
Baz chuckled. “I could also neuter you to get rid of some of that bullheadedness, but I try not to cross the human-canine lines if I can help it.”
“You’re no help,” Mike grumbled. “I just want to sleep in my own bed.” He squinted, eyeing his family members, and then leaned to the side, peering around them. “I thought this was a room full of men. Nobody’s going to break me out of here?” He swatted the air angrily and said, “Y’all are a bunch of pansies.”
“I ain’t no pansy,” Zander said. “But if I were you, I’d stick around, Gramps. There aren’t any hot nurses to take care of you back home.”
Zeke nodded in agreement. “He’s right, Grandpa. Soak up the attention from the pretty ladies while you can. Like Preach said, it’s only one night. You’ll walk out of here good as new tomorrow.”
“One night is a lot when you have as few left as I’ve got,” Mike complained.
Justin’s throat constricted. He’d missed out on knowing this incredible man for the first eleven years of his life. He didn’t want to imagine a world without him in it.
“What are you talking about?” Conroy patted his father’s leg and said, “You’re as strong as a mule and as stubborn as one, too. You’re not going anywhere. We’re going to be stuck with you for the next decade.”
“At least,” Preacher added.
“And we’re thrilled about it,” Ginger said from across the hospital bed, where she stood like a strawberry-blond beacon of light between Tank in his leather vest—arms crossed over his massive chest, dark eyes trained on Mike just as they had been since he’d arrived—and Blaine, a pillar of strength and the calm to everyone’s storm.
Blaine placed his hand over Ginger’s. She touched the side of her head to his shoulder and nudged her tortoiseshell glasses to the bridge of her nose. Ginger was like a second—third—mother to Justin. She helped Conroy run the Salty Hog, and like Reba, she was everything a biker’s wife had to be. She took no guff from anyone, and she treated the Dark Knights and their families as just that—family. But even with her tough resolve, Justin was always aware of the emptiness Ashley had left behind, in the same way his mother had left a gaping abyss in him. Ginger treated Madigan, Marly, and all of the girls who worked for her as if they were her children, or as she would say, Gifts from a world that had stolen her only daughter.
“I’m beginning to think you’ve all lost your minds, leaving me here overnight,” Mike complained. “Old people go into hospitals and they don’t come out.”
Gunner scoffed as he pushed through the crowd and said, “I’m more worried about those poor nurses than I am about you. The blonde just told me that when they were getting you settled in your room, you asked her for a sponge bath.”
Mike snickered. “It was worth a shot. She is a cutie.” He jiggled Justin’s hand and said, “If things don’t work out with that pretty little filly you’ve been chasing, you might think about breaking an arm or something.”
A rumble of chuckles rose around them as Reba breezed into the room and said, “Okay, gentlemen, listen up. Apparently the nurses have had enough eye candy for tonight.” She patted a few of the guys on their shoulders on her way to the foot of the bed. “We’ve used up all our favors, and they’ve given us the boot.”
“That’s probably for the best. Pop needs his rest,” Preacher said.
Mike curled his fingers around Justin’s, holding tight as the visiting Dark Knights bade him good night. Mike grumbled goodbyes and said Get out of here so many times, the last couple of men to leave said, We’re going, we’re going.
Justin could hear Preacher and Conroy in the hallway thanking the guys for coming.
Mike pulled Justin closer and said, “You remember when your father had those kidney stones? He hated the food here. You know they won’t give me any sugar. Sure you