by V. Theia
The pain blooming in her chest called her a liar.
Why weren’t they being told anything? That had to be a bad sign. A sign that Nathan was dead.
Preacher cleared his throat and really if he was about to go off on her again he was wasting his breath, she couldn’t hear anything but the sound of her own panic.
She mentally braced for it.
“My wife tells me I was too hard on you.”
“It’s okay. No need to apologize.” Her voice sounded far away, or maybe that was her ears ringing. She played with the cuff of the gray hoodie now ruined by blood. Nathan’s hoodie, the one she loved wearing after they’d had sex and he was making her food in his kitchen because it was so warm and soft and buried her in a foot of material.
The pain increased, almost caused her to fall to the floor, if not for the fact she’d steeled her knees to hold her the fuck up, to keep the swell of emotion in her throat and not to let it out in great bellowing sobs.
She had to hold on until they knew something.
“I wasn’t. But.” Preacher hauled in a breath and she looked up through her lashes, he looked as stressed as she felt and she felt a pang of apology he was going through this with his best friend. Nathan didn’t only belong to her, he belonged to these men first. “I had no right to talk to Grinder’s girl like that, he’ll give me hell for it once his ass is up and around.”
She’d like Nathan to be giving her hell. To be awake and teasing her at the stove in his kitchen while he made omelets with her vegetarian soy bits he hated. She’d like him to be awake and okay so he could nip at her mouth and tell her how much he enjoyed his thief teasing him.
His thief. She never realized how much she’d enjoyed being claimed in that basic way by him for all this time. Now maybe she wouldn’t hear it ever again.
Retreating to a corner, the waiting room filling up by the second, deep rowdy voices filling the void and Luxe didn’t hear a thing.
I love you, Luxe. I love you, remember I love you.
He’d been telling her goodbye.
******
"Couldn't do it, Rube. Couldn't pick up another rifle. I should have gotten him out there much sooner, he wouldn't need a transfusion right now if I had----I just fucking froze. I was shaking so goddamn much if I’d taken the shot I would have taken out more than just that cockfucker." Preacher’s sigh puffed out, the despair in her man's voice pulled at Ruby’s heart. Leaving her seat, she knelt on the floor in between his spread legs, his head hanging down in melancholy. His eyes dry, voice full of agony. She did the only thing she knew what to do, she pulled Preacher into her arms and held him tightly.
Her husband had once been a marksman sniper for the army, known to always get his target, but that kind of work had suffered on Preacher ever since. His PTSD attacks were few and far between now, but it always stayed with him and Ruby knew he would carry this, too, the fact he couldn't hold a rifle to stop the Russian's holding Grinder, to know Grinder had endured hours more worth of terrible beatings would torture Preacher. She held him even tighter feeling his big body sag with a hard exhale. She had her husband. Always would. Whatever he needed. "He's going to be fine, baby. He's going to be fine." She began praying right there on the hospital waiting room floor while she held onto her man and hoped she was right. Hey, God, It's Ruby Priest... we need your help.
******
Across the waiting room, Zara pulled her gaze away from Ruby comforting her hubby, the bigger man looked depleted of energy as if he'd only been holding on by a thread until his girl had arrived at the hospital. She turned and leaned into Rider's shoulder, her own biker-man was quiet. A pillar of strength for his brothers, but she knew the worry behind his blue eyes. He’d arrived long after everyone else had and she wondered why the delay. But now wasn’t the time to ask him. First, they needed to know about Grinder’s health. "Honey. Do you want anything to eat? I could run down to the cafeteria and pick something up for everyone." Waiting on news was worrying.
It wasn't looking good right now.
Rider's attention snapped down to her. She loved when he did that, become wholly focused on her. His hands reached out and he curved them around her nape drawing her in until her round belly pressed up against his hip. "You should be sittin’ down, Icy. Do you need anythin’? let me have one of the prospects drive you home."
So much concern he carried and still he was always caring for her needs. She smiled and leaned further into his touch knowing by now he had a need to take care of her and boy did she love him for it.
But even the strongest of men needed a helping hand at times and she tried to be that for her biker-man, even if it only meant listening to his club concerns.
No one expected this and yet Rider had been worried for an attack for months.
"I'm fine, honey. I'd rather stay here with you." His full palm slid across her growing belly. “The peanut doin’ okay?”
“He’s good. Active today. I think he’s got your heavy feet.” Wherever Rider was in the house she would hear him clomping around. Big feet. Big man.
“It’s a he today?” he flashed her a closed-lip smile.
Zara wrinkled her nose. “I’m hedging my bets. What if he’s a boy and knows we’ve been calling him a girl the entire nine month.”
“Could be one of each….”
Her head sprang up. “Shut your dirty mouth.” Her poor lady bits cringed in horror for that terrifying thought. She would never recover birthing two Rider sized babies.
He chuckled a little and buried his face in her neck, his thick voice a tired whisper, his palm under her shirt now cupping her belly. “I don’t know, Icy. I’m pretty potent.”
“The ego on you, biker-man.”
“I have enough to satisfy my little ice-blonde, don’t I?”
Mmm. He really did.
Turning in his arms, she leaned into his hard-protective chest. The room was a collective gathering of worry full to bursting with the RS members, old lady’s and prospects. Even several members of another crew who had helped Rider were here.
None of their own were going home until they knew Grinder was going to be okay, even then she suspected no one would leave him unguarded.
Just what did her biker-man have to do to get Grinder free? Her fear dissipated and replaced with surprise as heavy footsteps drew everyone’s attention towards the door. They expected Grinder’s family, no one expected Hawk to push through the double doors.
His glower just as she remembered.
Tall, unkempt long blonde hair touching his wide shoulders, Hawk was just as she remembered in his club leather. Heavy brows and wary eyes scanned everyone as they each noticed the club’s VP was back in town after a year of being away.
Another second for the noise levels to rise in reaction. Zara smiled.
Family went above and beyond for each other. These men, would the generous spirit ever stop surprising her? “Look who the fuck it is.” Grinned her biker-man. The two friends met in the middle and slapped hands and their bond was more than apparent to see, despite the time they’d spent apart. Hawk scowled, his trademark facial expression.
“Where else would I be?” that was explanation enough of why he was back suddenly. “Fucking plane was late getting in. How is he?”
Zara stayed quiet letting the boys catch up on Grinder’s condition. Truth be told she was tired and would love to lie down, the peanut was active on her spine, not that she was telling Rider, he’d rush her home.
A few minutes later, Jamie Steele and his VP walked over. “We’re taking off, Rider. Good to see you, Hawk.” The surly man just nodded.
Her man reached out and the two men shook hands. Amicable rivals in most everything they’d come together simply because Rider had asked Jamie for help in going in to get Grinder. Zara had only seen her biker-man meet several times over the last year with the other MC president, but she suspected they held a great deal of respect for one another. Rivals didn’t have to mean enemies. “Thanks for
comin’, man. ‘Preciate it.” Rider told him.
Jamie spoke briefly with Grinder’s woman standing over by the corner chewing on her thumb nail, she’d been so quiet it was as though she’d turned invisible. Zara’s brows dropped watching her so alone, so scared yet silently keeping it together. Zara knew that feeling all too well.
She watched the woman shake her head to whatever Jamie was asking her, he touched her cheek and the two men left.
Slipping out of Rider’s arm, Zara moved through the crowd smiling to her boys who murmured her name or Z-girl and gave her half-hugs.
“Hi. We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Zara. That big one in blue over there is mine.” She smiled pointing to Rider. “Is there anything I can get you? Coffee? Tea? A sandwich? It might be a long wait until we hear anything.”
And that was how Zara got herself a new girl-friend.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
“I fell in love with my kidnapper…slowly and then all at once.” - Luxe
It felt like hours before they knew anything. Luxe was going out of her mind. Her skin itched with impatience. A doctor in green scrubs came to talk to the growing crowd, looking at the mass of them dauntingly he let everyone know Grinder was fine and resting after being treated for multiple contusions, fractured ribs, a transfusion and was now receiving antibiotics and fluids until his levels were back to normal and then he could be released.
Her lungs deflated with relief. He was okay.
They allowed visitors four at a time to go and see him. Of course, the bikers didn’t listen to that ruling. They all piled into the room at once.
Luxe hung back but found herself ushered in first by Rider.
The man in charge had already handled the cops when they’d been contacted by the hospital about Nathan’s injuries. She had no idea what he told the sheriff, other than they made no noise to want to interview her.
Just seeing him lying in the bed, alive, sent a ribbon of love twirling in her stomach and so much relief she could have passed out. He was alive. He was okay.
The heart that had never loved anyone in a romantic way before sped up, hammering inside her ribcage until she had to suck in a breath to calm down.
Love so powerful filled her.
She’d say hello, and sorry about a million times and then she’d leave his friends to take care of him, that was her plan.
Through the bodies of wide shoulders, loud voices and the smell of too much leather alongside the disinfectant of hospitals it was a miracle that she met Nathan’s eyes.
He saw her through everyone. The look, and the slight upturn of his mouth, like he was so damn pleased to see her, too, had the same effect of a hallucinogen screaming through her bloodstream.
Luxe had the overwhelming need to kick everyone out and curl up with her boyfriend and take care of every place that hurt him. She didn’t quite believe all the emotions she had locked up tight for him, even as they roared and tried to pitch her forward, pushing at shoulders and hard men, to get at her own, to cup his rough cheeks and kiss his eyelids and to breathe his scent, only then when she felt his heat thumping under her palm would she accept it was over and he was going to be fine.
It was only the will of her grandmother running through her veins and sheer exhaustion and the strain of being out numbered that kept her rooted to the spot over by the door as men all flocked to do their manly bro thing with Nathan.
His voice, when it came out of his dry lips was rusty and paper thin. “Boys, gimme a minute with my girl.” Luxe’s empty stomach flexed, sloshing the acid in there around like it was on a rollercoaster. She never thought hearing that sound again would be the greatest noise of her life. Standing in that too small hospital room surrounded in big burly men Luxe closed her eyes for a second and inhaled, settling the nerves in her body, the roil of worry was still there but less now he was awake, he was talking, breathing … alive.
It had been so close to Nathan dying.
Too close.
The way his eyes never left hers. Sexual trappings that embroiled them all this time was just a short distance from the truth; they both held genuine, deep feelings for one another. His were right there for all to see.
Her heart went nuts. How was it a steady look from him had the same effect on her as a romantic gesture would of giving her the combination to a diamond safe, causing her to flush from the neck upwards.
The mere sight of him sparked a chain reaction of the things he did to the inside of her—the stomach drop, her heart sped up, the butterflies. Ah, the butterflies. Amid the worry, that extraordinary reaction was still there, every time, as if she hadn't seen him in weeks and not hours.
It was Rider who moved first. Long brown hair tucked behind his ears, he moved around two other guys to clasp the hand the bedridden wounded one held out. “Good to have you back, brother.”
“Couldn’t miss being the best uncle, now could I? And Prez … thanks.”
Rider nodded and walked out.
Next was Snake who had been somber the whole time, he moved to the head of the bed, leaned down and fisted some of Grinder’s thick unruly hair. He looked naked without his beanie hat, she wanted to find it and give him it back to make everything better, somehow. “Fucking jackass, stop trying to get dead.” There was no heat in his words, Luxe watched more exchanges with the men as they left one by one, there was more of them out in the waiting room, these men...brothers. Had all been worried about losing Grinder, none of them had moved an inch, even when hospital staff had tried to get them to leave.
When finally, it was only Luxe and Preacher left, she watched their exchange more closely. The bigger, wider man hunched over the bed so he could rest his forehead against Grinder’s, his words were too low for her to hear but she saw Grinder nod and clasp Preacher’s shoulder. A minute went by, the deep friendship between the pair more than evident she wondered if she should give them space, but then Preacher straightened, approached her.
She braced for harsher, deserved words. Preacher had only been looking out for his boy.
Instead his intense green eyes focused fully on her, his head hung a little. An apology in the depths looking right at her, his face softer now.
And then he did something startling even after he’d left the room Luxe was speechless.
He reached out and cupped the side of her head. “Take care of our boy, darling.”
Then she was alone with his approval and with Nathan.
“Come here, love. These things have me harpooned to the bed. I need to hold you.” He gestured to the blood pressure tag on his finger, the oxygen pipe going to his nose and the drip by the side of the bed pumping regular fluids and medicine into him.
Water swam in her eyes finally allowing the tears to fall. “Come here, don’t cry, baby, I’m alright.”
For a realistic, logical person, Luxe was running on pure emotional fumes when she staggered over to the bed and gripped Nathan’s hand, unaware she was crying until she laid her cheek on his and felt the wetness, it opened the floodgates and out they poured.
Arms came around her. Held her tightly. “How are you feeling?” she asked into his chest.
“Better now for seeing you. Hey, now, you’ll make me start, let me wipe those tears, I’m okay, love.”
When she rose her head, eyes blazed now the worry was lessened. “I should punch you for sending me away. And for making me promise to tell Rider to leave you there.”
He laughed and she wanted to cry all over again when he winced. “Maybe you could stand on the oxygen pipe instead of punching me?” he offered like the sweet man she knew him to be. He appeared tired, fatigue weighing heavy on the one eye he could blink.
He was so battered and bruised, every part of skin she could see was purple.
Her heart did an acrobatic flip it hadn’t done in ...ever, his taped fingers played with hers, stroking down her thumb, across her forefinger. God. She really was in love with him.
Really, really in love.
She soothed his brow. “Maybe keep it on for a while, okay?” keep him warm. Take care of her man. It was a thunder inside her heart.
Emotion got busy in her throat so she buried her face in his neck and did some silent thanking again that he was here with her.
******
An ordinate of silence later, when he allowed his girl to burrow into his skin without getting into the bed with him, and he really wanted her there, but first he had to know. "Tell me they didn't hurt you." He croaked, hating the weakness in his voice. As soon as his body had enough fluids he was breaking out of this hard-as-nails bed, he wanted home and he wanted his girl more than he needed to lie there like limp fucking lettuce unable to protect the one thing he cared for.
"Nathan, shhh, I'm fine."
"Tell me. Please, Luxe. Don’t keep that shit from me. I don’t know how long they had you for. What they could have done. It's been driving me mad. I'll kill them all, I swear-----"
"It was less than an hour before they brought you. They didn't touch me, just threw me into an empty room and I had to wait."
"You swear it?"
" Sí. I promise. The room smelled like feet and I waited there until----" Until they’d brought him in. Until they’d beaten him enough into submission. "Imbecile men are so easy to distract with a pair of tits, they just stared at me a little and I told them to go fuck their moms." Grinder growled and buried his face in the tits in question, her fingers stroked into his hair, soothing his aching head. He was sore all over but the pain didn’t bother him so much when Luxe put her hands on him.
Her hand crept up, one finger at a time, crawling up his chest, and curled around the back of his neck. Man, they felt so good.
“I was so scared,” she shared in a small voice, her face hidden in his shoulder. He hated all the fucking wires sticking out of his body when it meant he couldn’t hold her as he wanted to. Using his unhindered hand, he cupped the back of her head. “I thought I wouldn’t ever see you again.”