Hey, hope you liked the last chapter.
He had slept exactly five minutes that night. Five minutes of unconsciousness, in contrary to being bothered by his aching and pulsating hand.
He had slept at the club, not wanting to drive anywhere else…
Breakfast had been a cup of Joe, midnight black. Everything felt clumsy with his left hand, he had managed to spill coffee all over the bar-counter of theirs… Drinking the coffee had felt odd too, holding the cup with his left hand seemed plain wrong… But he hadn't even managed to lift an empty cup with his right, without yelping with pain.
All this lead him to where he was now. In the waiting room at the hospital, waiting to get some X-rays done…
He knew from experience how fractures felt, and he was pretty sure that both his wrist and his hand sported one or two brand new fractures… He had only hoped that it would have been small enough, that it wouldn't hurt as much, or whatever, that he wouldn't have to get a cast on it…
But every move hurt like crazy.
He looked down at his bruised hand and winced at how it looked. The swollen limb was painful to look at…
SOASOASOA
A few hours later, he sported a brand new, white cast. It was long on his thumb because of a fracture in his wrist, and it was longer on his index and middle finger, to give more support to the two metacarpals leading out to those two fingers.
Driving would be somewhere between difficult and impossible with that thing on his arm. And he knew driving with the painkillers they had prescribed him with would be an idiot move. Not that he had never done idiotic stuff like that before… Earlier this week even, when he thought about it…
He walked over to where he had managed to park his ride, he would make it back to the Sons' clubhouse… Even if he had to stop 20 times the six miles over there…
SOASOASOA
He somehow managed to find a way to speed without any grip in his hand. He felt all but comfortable driving towards the place where he could rest.
He parked out front of Teller-Morrow, leaned his Harley on the side-stand and unclipped his helmet. A task that proved to be a lot more difficult than he first expected.
"What happened to you?" Clay's voice boomed over the lot.
Jax pulled himself to his feet, and lifted his hand for Clay to see.
"Visited the good people up at St. Thomas hospital…" he paused and studied the new cast, "Seven fractures, can you believe it?"
Clay shook his head, his left hand shooting up to stroke down his face.
"Damn it, Jax! When did this happen?"
"Yesterday. When Opie, Chibs and I went after that Chryst guy…"
"You didn't crash? Did you?" Clay did him a quick once over, making sure there were no other injuries.
"No…" Jax shook his head, "No, no, no… I fractured my hand beating the guy…"
"Guess you won't be working today, then…"
"No… The cast makes that difficult…" he tried to stifle a yawn, failing. "Besides I didn't sleep tonight, and I've got a bottle of painkillers to make me sleep like a knocked out baby… Thought I just would head on in to my room and get some rest…"
"Yeah… I get it…" Clay's deep voice rolled over him, "Just heal up quick… You hear me? Got a shipment coming in in two weeks… Gonna need all men on deck by then…"
Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and that I didn't fail you all...
Do you enjoy hurt Jax?
