The Gritty Truth (The Whiskeys Dark Knights at Peaceful Harbor #7) - Melissa Foster Page 0,112

hold on. “No. He needs me!”

“Step back or he’ll die,” Diesel barked.

Roni fell back on her hands, tears flooding down her cheeks. Gemma and Penny crouched between her and Quincy, sirens blaring in the distance.

“Let Diesel check him out,” Gemma said. “He’s going to be okay, but you need to give Diesel space.”

“What’d he take?” Diesel demanded.

“I don’t know. Don’t let him die! Please help him!” Roni pleaded, pushing to her feet as motorcycles and trucks roared into the driveway.

Tires screeched, and Truman, Bullet, Bones, Bear, Scott, and Jed bolted toward them.

“Babies in the truck!” Bones shouted to Sarah on his way to Quincy.

There was shouting and cursing. The girls tried to console Roni, but she fought them, needing to get to him, unable to think past the prayers and Please don’t dies running through her head.

“He’s not breathing! Starting compressions!” Bones hollered as he started CPR.

“No!” Roni’s knees gave out, and she crumpled to the ground, sobbing.

“Goddamn it!” Truman turned with fire and fear in his eyes and shouted, “When did he start using again?”

“He didn’t! He wouldn’t!” Roni insisted. “I know he wouldn’t.”

“He’s breathing again!” someone hollered as the ambulance arrived, and then there was a flurry of activity and Quincy was loaded onto a stretcher and into the ambulance.

“Can I go with him? I want to go with him,” Roni pleaded frantically, but she was ignored.

As the ambulance doors were closed, she heard an EMT say, “He’s not breathing.”

Roni grabbed ahold of Penny, a crushing sensation making it hard to drag air into her own lungs. Penny embraced her, and then other arms circled them, everyone talking all at once. “He’ll be okay.” “Let’s get to the hospital.” “Everything’s going to be all right.”

As Truman and Gemma helped her into their truck, all Roni could think about was the EMT’s last words. If Quincy didn’t make it, she didn’t know how anything would ever be okay again.

Chapter Twenty-Four

QUINCY WAS LYING in a bed in the emergency room with two broken ribs—and a broken heart that hurt worse than any broken bone ever could—wondering how the hell his life got so fucked up, when Truman strode through the curtain, jaw tight, eyes blazing with anger and disappointment, cutting Quincy to his core.

Truman’s eyes narrowed as he hulked over the bed, getting right in Quincy’s face, teeth gritted, as he said, “How many times, Quincy? How many times are you going to try to off yourself and put us through this? Thank God for fucking Narcan.” Narcan was the medication the EMTs gave Quincy to counteract the life-threatening effects of the overdose. “Do you have any idea what Roni is going through right now?” Truman thrust his arm out, pointing in the direction he’d come. “She’s out there bawling her eyes out, trying to convince everyone that you didn’t do this. I love you, man, but what the hell? You nearly died.”

Narcan had not only saved his life, it had also left him clearheaded enough to know that while Roni might be championing for him now, that would soon change. “I didn’t fucking do it,” Quincy seethed.

Truman cocked his head.

“Did you notice my truck wasn’t there? Do you really think I’d fuck up Roni’s life? I love her, man. Do you think I’d do that to you again? To Gemma? To the kids? To everyone in our fucking lives?” He pushed up to a sitting position, wincing with pain, and grabbed his ribs.

“I didn’t want to believe it, but we’ve been here before. You still had the fucking rubber around your arm.” Truman’s eyes filled with tears.

“I didn’t do it, Tru. Puck and five of his goons dragged my ass out of my truck at a stoplight when I was on my way to see Simone. Puck did this. He tried to make me look like just another junkie who overdosed so he wouldn’t get caught. He was sending a message to the Dark Knights saying back off or Simone is next. I swear to God. I love you, man, and the last thing I would ever do is put you through this again.” His eyes filled with tears, and he didn’t care, because he was so fucking sad and mad, he was going to lose his mind. “They drove me to some god-awful place and knocked me around. Then they threw me in the car, shot me up with heroin, and tossed me out the door in front of Whiskey Bro’s. The police told me I made it