Everybody moves out of the house except MadDog.
“I’ll stay with you until you’re cleared for sure,” he states. I nod as I take my phone out of my pocket and start placing phone calls.
IMOGEN
I moan, my body feeling heavy and my face pulsing with pain. I try to move my lips, but they don’t go anywhere. All I hear are other people’s voices in the room.
I can’t open my eyes, and I feel my heart starting to race in panic. I lift my hand and press it to my face, but it all feels funny—swollen, puffy, and not right at all.
“Genny—oh, honey, don’t do that,” Colleen’s voice whispers through the room.
I feel her grab my hand and I turn my head toward her, but I still can’t open my eyes.
“Wha Ha-en?” I gurgle, unable to form actual words.
“You were hurt pretty badly, honey. You’re in the hospital,” she coos gently. I can feel her hand on my hair. “We called your parents and they’re on their way, so is Soar’s mom,” she informs me. She doesn’t say anything about Sloane.
“Swoan?” I ask, but it hurts my face, my throat—my everything.
“He’ll be here as soon as he can, babe,” she whispers.
“Oh, my god,” I hear my mom’s voice.
She sounds completely horrified. I have a feeling it looks just as bad as it feels, and I don’t know if I ever want to look in the mirror again.
“Did that piece of shit do this to you?” my father asks.
I try to relax and think about the night. I hear Colleen in the background talking to my parents, and I’m grateful for that as I try to retrace the evening. I remember talking to Ivy about going to Mary-Anne’s.
I took brownies out of the oven and someone rang the bell. I thought it was Ivy. It was Graham. Then it all comes flooding back to me. Graham kicking and punching me until everything went black.
“I’ll kill Sloane,” my father roars. I choke out a laugh.
“Gwam,” I mumble.
“What?” my father asks.
I can feel him come closer. I can smell his expensive cologne, and I wish it were comforting, but it isn’t.
“No, Swoan. Gwam,” I mumble again.
“Are you trying to tell me that Graham did this to you?” I nod but my father scoffs. “Graham is refined, Imogen. He would never do this.”
“Sloane is a complete barbarian. Graham adores you,” my mother chimes in.
I hear Sloane’s harsh bark of laughter fill the room. I can do nothing but listen to my parents and Sloane talk.
“Graham already marked her once. I have never touched Imogen in anger before, not once,” he growls. “Besides, I was in Los Angeles visiting a friend.”
“What was her name?” my mother huffs.
“Not a woman. Not that it’s your fucking business. You two can fucking leave,” Sloane says.
I imagine he’s waving his hand around in annoyance. He’s always had a short temper where my parents are concerned. Not that I can blame him; they drive me insane as well.
“I will not leave my daughter, not in this sub-par hospital,” my father snorts.
“Then you can sit on the couch with your goddamn mouths closed,” Sloane barks.
I hear my father sputter, but I’m getting tired and fading quickly.
“Go back to sleep, sunshine,” Sloane’s voice mutters.
I feel his lips on the back of my hand as he presses a kiss there, and then I do as he requests. Again, his blanket of safety wraps around me and I feel at peace. I go back to sleep
* * *
“Will there be any permanent damage? I can call my plastic surgeon,” I hear my mother’s voice say.
“I think we’ll know more once the swelling goes down, ma’am,” a stranger’s voice mutters. Then I feel him come closer.
“Can you try and open your eyes for me today, Mrs. Huntington?” he asks. I feel his warm touch on my ribs, my stomach, and then my face.
I try to open my eyes, relaxing my face as much as I can, and am surprised when I see light and then a shadow.
“There you go, let’s see those pretty brown eyes of yours,” he murmurs. “Can you make anything out, or are you just seeing shadows at this point?”
“Shaowes,” I rasp, unable to pronounce certain letters still.
“Good, good. Hopefully as your swelling decreases you’ll get your sharper vision back. Now, you’ve been monitored for twenty-four hours and everything is looking really good. I want to keep you here another twenty-four hours, maybe forty-eight, depending on how quickly your swelling reduces. Other than the pain in your face, how are you feeling?”
“O-aay,” I state.
“You’re on some pretty powerful pain meds and you’ve got a catheter in. But I’m going to have the nurse take that out and get you up and moving today. The more you move around, the sooner you’ll be able to get out of here,” he says soothingly. I nod. “Now, do I need to call the police so you can make a report? Your husband was here and he says that this wasn’t him. I have to ask these things,” he murmurs.
“Wa-n’t him,” I say with a shake of my head.
“Okay,” he says, sounding disappointed. Then I hear his footsteps and the door closes behind him.
The room is bathed in silence for a few minutes, and I let out a heavy sigh, knowing my mother has something to say.
“I know Sloane wouldn’t hurt you,” she finally whispers. I don’t speak, waiting for her to continue. “I know he’s liked his women, maybe done some drugs, and, with his little group, some questionable things. He’s not like his father, not like that. And even Sloane’s father never left Kalli as battered as you are.”
I make a noise in the back of my throat, wishing she would stop. She doesn’t.
“It’s no secret that I’ve never liked the boy. Not because of him, but because of the way you allowed him to treat you. You’re better than that; you’re better than a Huntington. You were always so starry eyed over him, and he was a handsome boy. He still is a very handsome man, so I understand. I just didn’t want you to fall in love with looks and settle,” she takes a deep breath. “I didn’t want you to settle like me. Settle for a pretty man who wouldn’t treat you well, because women love a pretty man with money.”
Tears fill my eyes and fall down my face at what my mother is implying about her relationship with my father. My mother and I don’t get along, we never have, but she’s also never really been involved in my life. She’s always been more concerned with herself, or maybe she was just lost inside of her own head, dealing with infidelity exactly like I always have.
“But you ended up exactly like me, didn’t you?” she asks. I can’t help but agree with her. “I’m sorry I didn’t teach you what kind of man you should have looked for.”
I start to open my mouth, but then I hear the door open.
“I’m just going to head out now,” my mother says.
I turn my head, opening my eyes as widely as I can, and I see a shadow standing in the doorway. It’s a shadow I recognize. It’s a shadow that I would know no matter where I was.
It’s Sloane.
“Fucking hell, sunshine,” he rasps. I hear him dragging a chair across the room to the side of the bed. He gathers my hand in his and he lets out a breath. “Sorry I wasn’t here. I had to get some shit handled. Not leaving you now, though.”
“Go home tomorrow,” I say slowly, trying to enunciate every word.
“Yeah? Can’t wait. How are you feeling?” he asks.
I shrug.
“You never have to worry about Graham again, sunshine,” he whispers.
I wait for him to continue, and I’m surprised when he does. “I took care of him. He’ll never hurt you again, baby,” he whispers. “I want you out of here. I want you better and home with me.”
“Home,” I say, my lips trembling.
“Yeah, sunshine. I want to help you get better.”
I shake my head, thinking of my mother’s words, wonder
ing if staying with him is where I should be. Maybe I should just leave California, leave the country, go far away and start over. Find a man who isn’t sexy and attractive; find a man who loves and adores me and sees no other woman in the world but me.
Then I think about the way Sloane told me he loves me. I think about all the stuff we’ve been through the past few weeks, and I know that I would endure everything all over again to have him. I love him, and time or distance couldn’t make that love dissipate, let alone disappear.
It’s him for me, and nobody else can compare. I’m willing to let him keep my heart, in the hopes that he won’t break it into a million pieces again. Foolishly, I’m pretty confident right now that he won’t.
I love this man.
This beautiful man.
This rich man.
This rough man.
Chapter Twenty-One
SOAR
I watch her sleep. Her face isn’t as bad today as it was yesterday. The swelling has receded a bit, but she’s still got a long road to recovery ahead of her.
I close my eyes tightly and curse to myself.
This was all me.
Me and nobody else.
If I had better protection over her when I left for LA, then Graham wouldn’t have been able to get to her.
Fuck, if I hadn’t let her into this life, then she’d probably be married to some strait-laced fucker right now, in a mansion with three kids.
Graham wouldn’t have ever been on her radar, and I wouldn’t have pissed him off enough to take his anger out on her. None of this would have happened and she’d probably have a much better life.
No matter how you look at it, this is all my fault.
“This isn’t your fault,” a familiar voice says from the doorway. I turn around to see my mother standing there.
She’s wearing designer, as per usual, her bleached hair styled to perfection and her makeup impeccable. She looks like the society bitch she is, but I’ve always just called her mom.
“You finally get sober enough to drive over here?” I ask, feeling the heat of my resentment at the woman rise.
“I knew her parents would be here, and I knew they didn’t want to see me, so I waited,” she shrugs as she takes a few more steps into the room. “Goddammit, that man is a fucking monster,” she gasps, abandoning her perfect language for curse words, which I prefer.
“Something like that,” I state, not wishing to look over at Genny again. Staring at her will not make her better. It will not make the damage disappear.
“I hope you took care of him,” my mother states as she walks over to the sofa and slowly sits down.
“I did,” I say, but lift my brow in surprise that she’d even direct me to do so. My mother hates the club, hates my life, and hasn’t hidden that fact—ever.
“If you’re going to be in a group like that, I’m glad that it’s good for something,” she huffs.
“Yeah, well, he’s no longer an issue.”
“I’m all moved in to my new place, your brother is gone, and now this. Everything’s just falling to pieces, Sloaney,” my mom whispers, using a little nickname she had for me when I was a kid.
“You upset about dad being gone?” I ask curiously.
“Hell, no. That man was wretched. I did contact the mothers of his children. There are three,” she says quietly. “I’m meeting with them next week. I know their children are now financially taken care of, but I guess I just wanted to know the women he preferred over me, and maybe get some closure.”
“That could do more harm than good, mom,” I warn.
“I know,” she nods. “Kipling has been a mess. Thank you for getting him gone sooner rather than later. He’s taking it all very hard.”
“I offered to pay for his schooling after this first semester,” I state. She shakes her head.
“There’s no reason to. I have plenty of money,” she says with a wave of her hand.
“As long as the business does well.”
“No, Sloaney, I have plenty of money. My family had money, too, you know. Not as much as your father was worth, but I have more than most of the people in this world, and I’m going to put my boy through Harvard. I also plan on spoiling your children, if you’ll ever have any,” she says.
“Okay, mom,” I say, shaking my head. “But I’m taking care of his second semester. You want to pony up for the rest that’s cool, but I have some funds that I want to use on it.”
She nods and doesn’t argue, which I’m grateful for. “I love Imogen. I always have. I wasn’t always nice to her because she reminded me so much of myself. I wanted more for her than I had,” she murmurs. “I saw the way you were, it reminded me so much of your father. You aren’t him, are you, son?”
I think about her question. Three years ago, I was more like the man I despised than I care to admit, especially when it came to women and the way I treated my wife.
Though I never physically hurt Imogen, emotionally? I completely broke her, shattered her into pieces. I didn’t give a single fuck when I did it, either.
I was chasing a high, always chasing that fucking high. I never looked back at the damage, or pain, I was inflicting on this woman who only wanted my love. This woman, who wanted to love and wanted to be loved. I fucked her over time and time again.
“No, mom, I’m not him. Not anymore,” I whisper.
“Good. Be better than your father. My only hope in this life is that you and Kipling show the world that the Huntington name still stands for something good,” she says as she stands up and smooths down her pants.
“I’m not sure I’m the man for that task, mom.”
I watch in silence as my mom walks directly over to me, cupping my cheeks in her hands as she looks down into my eyes, watching me for a breath before she speaks.
“You’re a better man than your father. You left and have never asked for a single thing from us, from him. That pissed him off to no end. He wanted you to fail and come crawling back to him, but I knew. I knew that my Sloaney was smart and he would take care of himself without incident. Love Imogen the way she deserves. You only get one life. Please, Sloane, be the best man you can be for her, but most importantly, for you.”
I stare at my mom in shock as she drops her hands and bends over to place her lips on my forehead. Then she takes a step back and turns to walk toward the door. I watch her, still totally speechless.
“I’ll see you both at the summer party,” she says as she opens the door and walks out, leaving Genny and me alone again.
“You know she’s right,” Genny mutters from next to me. I look up in surprise to see she’s awake. “You’re better than him.”
I close my eyes and let out a long heavy sigh.
“Get some sleep, sunshine.”
IMOGEN
Home.
I never thought I would want to step foot inside of this place again. Let alone call it home. But it is. This is my home, and today I’m back. I’m thankful for the other Old Ladies who cleaned up the evidence of my attack.
It doesn’t look as though it’s even been touched, let alone that a woman had been beaten here. I talked to a grief counselor before I left the hospital and she warned me about all types of things like flashbacks and such. I should be worried about that, but I’m just far too happy to be back.
“Do you need to get into bed and rest?” Sloane asks.
Sloane is another reason I’m not more of a mess. He’s been absolutely wonderful. I feel safe and completely at peace with him at home with me. It’s not a completely new experience, as I’ve been feeling this way lately, but it’s different to have him take care of me.
I like it.
I like it a lot.
Though my face hurts like hell, and the doctors still don’t know for sure if I’ll have permanent damage, I would consider doing it all over again just to have him care after me like this.
“Maybe just a bath,” I shrug.
“Yeah, sunshine, I can handle that,�
� he smiles.
He wraps his warm hand around mine and gently tugs me toward the bathroom. My ribs hurt like hell, so I can’t walk very fast. I’m excited to soak them in warm water to ease the aches and pains.
“I have some Epsom salt stuff under the sink,” I mumble.
I watch as he digs around and pulls out my Epsom salt soak and bubble bath. Then, with avid fascination, as he starts my bath and adds in the salts and bubbles, I watch him.
Without a word, he turns to me as the tub fills and gently starts to remove my clothes. I’ve still yet to look in the mirror, and I am avoiding it. I don’t know if I’ll ever want to look at myself again.
“Your poor fucking body, Imogen,” Sloane hisses as he strips me bare.
Thankfully, my eyes aren’t as swollen as they were just a day ago, and I can actually see again.
Unfortunately, I can see the complete pain etched on his face as he looks me over.
“I’ll be okay,” I say, trying to reassure him and myself.
Sloane’s fingers trail from the hollow of my throat, down the center of my chest to my belly, and then back up before he wraps them, gently, around the back of my neck. He drops his head but doesn’t touch my forehead with his own. I can feel his breath fanning my face, and I watch as he swallows heavily.
“Imogen,” he rasps. “I know you’ll be okay, sunshine. You shouldn’t have to be okay, but I know that you will be. You’re so strong, and you’re going to be just fine. It kills me that you’ve been hurt, baby. Absolutely fucking kills me.”
I place my hands on his waist and wait for him to open his eyes. Looking at the pain that’s deeply etched into his gaze, I give him a shaky smile.
“I will be okay, Sloane. We will be okay. He hurt me but he didn’t break me,” I whisper.
“No, he fucking didn’t. I sure broke him, though,” he growls.
“Did you?” I ask with a small smile.
The Notorious Devils MC: Complete Collection BoxSet Page 162