by Carmen Faye
Speed wasn’t going anywhere. Leaving Darcy’s side was not an option in his mind. If something happened, he’d be there to make sure those doctors did everything in their power to make it all right. Besides, he’d really missed her while she’d been unconscious. And spending the whole time wondering if she was actually going to wake up had made it even more difficult to bear. On the outside he was total steel, resolved and quick to make decisions. On the inside, though, he often had a fire burning that was barely kept under control. The pain of that would get too much sometimes, like when there were things going on he couldn't control outside of himself. Darcy being in a coma was one of those things. The doctors couldn't even do anything to get her to snap out of it, so there was fuck all he could have done.
Nobody likes being helpless. Bikers are no different. A lot of them go into that lifestyle because they want to feel like they're in command, able to push people around and take what they want. Just like everyone else, even the hardest of them is secretly scared about what is going to happen to them that they will not be able to control. Speed was one of the best and worst of the bikers in the country. There were meaner, and there were smarter, but he held his own in each of those regards.
Some people thought that what made Speed an exceptional MC president was his ability to slip seamlessly between being bad, and being good. He knew when it was time to put down the baseball bat or gun, and use his fucking head to sort things out for a change. What no one realized was that Speed's soft heart was the real reason he'd been such a passionate and able leader. He knew how to connect with people without making himself vulnerable. Keeping people from ever guessing what he was thinking and feeling had become such an integral asset in his daily life; Speed wasn't even aware he was such an emotional person.
Hatred, anger, hurting. Those were the only emotions he thought that were worth keeping in check. Usually he would make sure they didn't get out of control. When the time came, though, he needed to unleash them so things could get done. It kept people from walking all over him, and it made sure he was feared by people who might otherwise try to cross him.
Compassion, empathy, love. These other emotions were just as powerful in Speed as the negative ones. They weren't as developed or refined because he hadn't been exercising them. But they were strong. Darcy had helped him to see what the world could be like, and he had to admit to himself that he enjoyed it. Speed would share this with Darcy, too, once she was recovered. It was a difficult thing for him to acknowledge consciously, let alone talk about with another person. But he figured she was definitely the one to discuss it all with. One day…
It had all been a bit much for him to handle, with his newly found emotional side. In fact, the only person who could make him feel normal now was Darcy. Just being beside her and knowing she was going to be awake later made him feel like a million bucks, relatively speaking. If only he could get all this other crap out of his head and be normal for a while, it'd be great. That would all work out soon enough. It wasn't going to happen automatically, but equilibrium would come back eventually. He wondered if he'd still be an MC president in the future. Any other sort of life was hard to imagine, and they needed to money right now more than ever.
Darcy would need help to get back on her feet. If they were going to recover her cycling career, that went double. It was funny how this person both weakened and strengthened him at the same time. It made him laugh, though, how only a woman could do two things that were directly opposite, at the exact same time.
The hospital only allowed one family member to stay, and only as long as they didn’t sleep there. Since he wasn’t family, he’d been left with no choice but to grease the wheels a little, help things work in his way. He’d quietly slipped the night nurse a crisp bill to look the other way if he stayed the night. Was that in line with turning legit? He didn’t think there was any crime in helping out a hard working nurse with extra money, so he could bend a rule that didn’t seem to matter. No, Speed planned to stay at the hospital until Darcy was able to leave.
"Fuck…" he mumbled with a breath. All of that thinking and nothing to do but sit and wait. It was liable to turn his brain to mush. It was best to find something to take his mind off things. Darcy made a noise in her sleep and rolled over a bit. Maybe she would wake up soon.
Then she started to snore a little. It was cute and kind of funny. But it didn't look like she was going to wake up any time soon. Speed went for a walk around the hospital.
Walking around the hospital at night was like being a very strange ghost town. There were still a lot of people there, even though they weren't usually out and about in the halls and common areas. The odd doctor or nurse was going about their business. At least that's what they appeared to be in their uniforms with nametags and clipboards. What a different world they were living in. Speed didn't think much about the other side of humanity. That is, the people who did "normal" things to make a living, instead of being in an outlaw gang of motorcycle riding thugs.
There were some vending machines by one of the entrances. People were out there away from the automatic doors with their cigarettes, or talking on mobile phones. The air wasn't cold but it wasn't warm either inside the hospital. Stagnant might have been a better word to describe it. The idea that Darcy might not wake up kept haunting him, not matter how much Speed told himself he wasn't worried. She'd come out of the coma and everything was going to be just fine. That was the only possible outcome.
By the vending machines there was a light coming out of an open set of double doors. Upon closer inspection, he saw that it was a gift store that hadn't closed up for the evening yet. "Brighter Tomorrow Gifts and Flowers" read the sign painted on the glass. Speed walked inside and immediately felt kind of silly for being there. People who didn't really care about who they were buying for went to gift stores right inside the hospital like that. All they had were greeting cards with fake sentiments and lame jokes. There were also bright flowers that were already dying before you even handed over way too much money for them. "Shit," he said.
"Excuse me?" said the old man behind the counter. It didn't look like he'd actually heard what Speed said. "Did you need some help with anything, son?"
"I don't know if you've got what I need help with."
"Were you looking for a bouquet of flowers? Or are you here seeing a young’un? There are stuffed animals and coloring books over there on that rack, or plenty of toys to choose from."
"No, I'm not seeing a kid." Things could be worse, like having a child in the hospital. "I guess I'll get a bunch of flowers. What's the nicest you've got?"
"Well, that would be this, but it costs fifty bucks," said the old man. He was gesturing over to a huge bunch of flowers, purples, reds, whites, some yellow for accents. And the ribbons on it were in a fancy pattern.
"That looks like she'd love it," said Speed.
"Is this for your lady?" asked the old man with a little smile now on the edges of his lips.
"Yeah. She's been in a coma for a week. She just woke up today. Now she's taking a nap." Speed didn't know why he was telling the old guy these details like they knew each other or something.
"That's got to have been hard on you. From the looks of you, I'd say maybe you're worried she might not wake up again? If you don't mind my saying."
"You can say whatever you like. It's a free country," Speed answered, getting his wallet out of his pocket and shuffling out a crisp hundred-dollar bill. "You are right, though. I'm worried that when I go back into that room, she's not going to wake up again."
"She'll wake up," said the old man, taking the money and walking over to the cash register. "Don't you worry about it."
"I wish I had that kind of optimism. I would usually agree with you on something I was trying to achieve. This is different."
"How so?" The man keyed in the purchase of the flowers and the register chimed. He slid the money in and removed Speed's change. The receipt printed out with a jarring noise.
&
nbsp; "I have confidence in things that need to get done. When I'm in charge, I know I can make things happen. This waiting around, wondering, it's a lot harder."
"You feel helpless. I understand that, believe me. When you get to be my age, you lose control of a lot of things that happen in your life. It's not going to change as time goes on. But you have to assume she's going to wake up and everything is going to work out fine. Otherwise you'll spend your whole life worried sick; if things do work out, you'll have wasted your life anyway.
"I'll have to think on that. Thanks anyway." He paid his money and took the flowers. "Thanks," he said.
A small group of young adults were standing around in the hallway when he left the gift store. He watched them laughing as they chose what to buy from the vending machines. They still had their whole lives to look forward to. Speed felt old, much older than he was. Life had been moving on without him and he didn't even realize it was happening. This might have been the first time he'd felt like a real person for years, but it was bizarre and numbing.
On the other side of his brain, all he could do was wish he had not picked up the biggest bunch of flowers they had, packed with all sorts of colors and smells. It felt fruity walking around with the thing, but he didn’t think anyone would look the wrong way at him in his Wild Cards jacket. That emblem on the back helped to keep a barrier between himself and the world, and that was just how Speed liked things. Sure enough, not one of those kids even glanced at him as he walked by. Speed was untouchable.
He’d only let in the people who were worth his time, like his boys, and Darcy. When he went back to her room, she was awake, awake and beaming with her pearly whites. What a gorgeous smile. He wanted to shout with joy. "I think it's even better to see you awake now than it was today."
"What are you talking about? You weren't worrying yourself while I was having my nap, were you?"
"Maybe just a little. You better not do anything stupid like not wake up. The doctor said you'd be okay, so that's what you need to be."
"Well if something does happen to me, you can kick his ass for me, okay?"
"I don't know if I'd go that far. Might make me feel better about it, though. Oh, I bought you these flowers,” he said, figuring she was smiling because she saw her gift. “I love you, Darcy, and I want you to get well fast.”
“Thank you, baby. Yes, I’m smiling at the flowers. You’re sweet. But I'm also happy because I wrote something for you, when I woke up and realized you weren’t here. Figured I should use the time productively, right?”
“What’s that?” He pulled up a chair next to her and crouched in over the laptop that was resting on her lap. It was her blog, the section about his club that she updated regularly.
“I thought the public should know about the heroic biker president who not only saved my life from a sadistic and jealous ex-coach, who drugged me and went out of his way to ensure I’d never race again, but also the good natured hero who’s also paying Aubrey’s bills for the finest psychiatric center in Denver.”
“Shit, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever written, or even said, about me. I haven't done much to deserve it, I know. Still, it means a lot. Thanks, sweetheart…” He didn’t know what else to say. If he had said much more, he was worried that he’d start crying like a little girl, and that wasn’t about to happen. No fucking way.
“And look,” Darcy continued, “see all these comments below my new post? A lot of them are people who want your club to sponsor them, too." She slid the laptop over so he could pick it up and have a closer look.
"These people want my boys to work on their cars. How did they even know we do that kind of thing?"
"The blog. You haven't read it all, have you? I don't blame you with everything that's been going on. I stopped showing you every post a few weeks back. There was just too much and I didn't want to bother you."
"I would have taken the time, but fair enough. Hey, look at this one. These companies want us to take care of security jobs. Hell, I know some of the boys would love doing that kind of thing. They'd probably even do it for free, not that we're going to."
"And I've been getting emails from people where they've mentioned the prices they'd be willing to pay. I guess having bikers work for you is chic or something, now? I never thought I'd see the day. But Speed, this is all legitimate business. Isn't this what you've been hoping for?"
“You're right. Wow,” Speed said, catching his breath and steeling his macho resolve. He cleared his throat and smiled. “This could very well set The Wild Cards up for life as a legit club. I’ve had my suspicions for a while now, I guess you really are the best thing that’s ever happened to me; I know you are. Come here.” He got down on his knees beside her and held Darcy in his arms, pulling himself into her with care, tenderly kissing her right about where her heart was. "I love you, Darcy," he said into her chest.
"I love you, too."
Chapter Twenty Seven
It only took a week for Darcy to recover enough to go riding. That had been a tough week, even more so for Speed. Darcy didn't think the lug had it in him to show so much tenderness and support. Brute strength and protection? Sure, he had that in spades. But actually bringing himself down to the level of caregiver and giving up the egotistical tropes that came along with being a "real man" was impressive.
"You sure this is a good idea?" he asked her yet again. They were back on the road, where Darcy had spent so many hours pushing herself to the physical and mental limits of her very being. It was a sacred place to her, one she delighted in sharing with him.
"You spoke to the specialists yourself, many, many times. They must be sick of the sight of you and the sound of your voice. You were lucky they didn't block your phone number by the time I got out of there." Darcy spun the pedal around on her bicycle. It was a new bike, a nicer one, too. The other one had been totaled in the crash and no one wanted to see the thing again anyway. They'd raffled it off to some fan who thought that kind of thing was cool to have around, and given the proceeds to charity.
Speed smirked. "I would have only gone in there in person if they'd done that. Hey, I paid top dollar for that private health insurance, so we should get our money's worth."
"They wouldn't have put up with that kind of thing in private. Believe me, I know."
"I didn't always have this much cash either. I know how they treat you there. But you're too good for that kind of half-ass treatment. You deserve better than the best." He patted her on the ass like she was a prize horse.
Darcy loved it when Speed acted like that. She always thought she'd hate being with a man who could dominate her, and take whatever he wanted. There just weren't a lot of guys who acted like that, unless they were still scared little boys on the inside.
Yeah, Speed was a sensitive guy under all those muscles and tats. He just wasn't a boy. He was a modern man. Darcy was worried she'd lose interest in him if he ever stopped being such a bastard, but that is not how things turned out at all. "Okay, then," she said, taking him in with her eyes. "You ready to see your injured baby leave the nest?"
"If you were still hurt, I wouldn't let you."
"Do you really think anything would stop me from riding again?"
"You're not just going to ride, sweetheart. You're going to win that fucking frog race.
Speed had rushed out and bought the best bike he could find. He'd actually bought several of them so Darcy would have a choice when she got out of hospital. He had so much faith in her to win the Tour de France that she felt guilty about doubting herself.
She smiled as she rode along, not pushing herself again to the outer limit. While she did want to see if she had lost anything after being in the hospital, Darcy wasn't going to do anything stupid. The anxious looks Speed had been throwing after her as she rode away were enough to make her mind up. But being silly and falling or injuring something now would be disastrous.
Just riding again was good enough. That wind flowing around her like a cocoon of r
ushing energy, the way it wrapped her up but allowed her to be completely free at the same time. There was more to riding than most people would ever realize. Even a lot of the hottest competition didn't seem to grasp what they had in their lives. This was more than just some sport. And the contest of trying to be the best was more like icing on the cake. It wasn't the whole cake, though, not the most essential part of it.
The recent events had given her a new appreciation for her skills and talents, the opportunity that was ahead of her. Riding was absolutely important in her life, and nothing should ever mess that up – she knew this now more than ever. Things had gotten bad quickly. Luck helped to keep them from getting even worse. She could have easily died instead of just going to the hospital for a relatively short time. Where luck had failed to do its thing, Speed had been there to sweep her away and protect her.
That the qualifying race for the Tour de France had been rescheduled due to the turmoil that had gone on was nothing less than a blessing. Darcy didn't believe in a higher power. Her religion was cycling and treating her body as a temple. It was hard to deny that something at least as powerful as a divine presence had taken her to this point. Again, luck was the only force Darcy could chalk it up to without feeling superstitious. And again, it was luck and Speed that were to thank.