Rory

by Jordan Marie

  I open my mouth around the tube, but no sound comes out. I can’t talk to my son. I can’t move.

  I can’t do anything.

  “Your dad is fine, Ryan. I promise. It’s just…he has just…” Rory stumbles and I try to focus on her words, the urge to fall back into the darkness is there, but I fucking fight it. “Your dad was really hurt, baby. His body had to kind of shut down so it could heal. The doctors weren’t sure he would be able to wake up, so they put him on a machine to help him breathe.”

  “But he’s okay now, Rory?”

  “He’s still sick, but he’s awake and he’ll get better,” Rory says and I can barely see them, but from my peripheral view I see them both turning to look at me.

  “You promise?” Ryan asks, and I hate that he’s crying, well I’m almost sure he is.

  Why is it so hard to focus?

  How long have I been out?

  How did Crusher get here?

  “Hey, look at me,” Rory whispers. “Have I ever once lied to you, Ryan?”

  “No,” he murmurs.

  “Your dad is going to pull out of this and it won’t be long he’ll be able to talk to you and hug you again. For now, though, he can hear you, so what do you say you go say hi to him and tell him to get better soon?”

  “You think that will help him?”

  “You telling him to get better will make all the difference in the world.”

  They get closer to me and it helps because I can see them more clearly. Rory bends down and picks Ryan up, bringing him closer where I can see him better. I see the fear on his face, but it’s just so damn good to see him again, that’s all I can concentrate on right now. Tears sting my eyes and slide out and I don’t give a damn.

  “Hi, Daddy,” Ryan says gently, his voice thick with a mixture of unshed tears and fear. “I… I’ve… I love you, Dad. Please get better. Please?”

  I try to move my hand again, but I can’t, it’s useless. I feel a hand against mine though and when I look down I see Rory’s placed over mine, trying to calm me. I stare at it and memorize this moment. It’s significant, but when Ryan puts his small hand over Rory’s and it is our three joined hands together… it’s everything.

  I struggle to keep my eyes from going closed, but I can’t. I do move my fingers so my son and Rory can feel me touching them. That’s as close as I can get to telling them that I will keep fighting.

  I will get better.

  27

  Diesel

  Two Weeks Later

  * * *

  “Where… in… the hell’s… Rory?” I growl as Crusher comes back into my room.

  “Aren’t you cheerful?” he laughs.

  I growl under my breath. I don’t feel like being cheerful. It’s been two weeks and I’m still pissing through a tube, got a line coming out of my nose they use to give me food. Needles are in my arms, used to give me fluids and blood whenever they feel like it, along with meds that they tell me will help me get stronger, but it doesn’t feel like it.

  I can’t even walk by myself. I’m like a fucking kid. Hell, I have to work to get words out of my mouth. The doctors keep saying I have to retrain my body, apparently that includes my brain. I know what I want to say, but how to say it seems to be all fucked up.

  “Rory,” I repeat, and despite the anger and frustration I’m feeling, my voice is weaker this time. They’ve started speech therapy with me, but I’m not doing great with that either. I’m a fucking child. I even have nurses wiping my ass. I don’t feel like a man anymore. I feel like a damn baby.

  “She’s at the hotel with Gunner and Rebel.”

  “Here,” I demand, my hand slapping against the table they have rolled to my bed. It’s a weak slap, but I still manage it—it’s not much, but at least it’s something.

  “Hoss… about that….”

  I don’t manage to say anything, but I huff out a deep breath and narrow my gaze on him.

  “She doesn’t want to come. I’ve tried. I’ve told her that you’re asking for her. She says you two don’t have anything to say to one another.”

  “Bull…shh…it,” I slur out. Words are harder to form when I’m upset.

  “I’m just the messenger.”

  “Ma..ke her,” I order.

  “You can talk to her when you get better. There’s been a lot of improvement in just a couple of weeks.”

  “Not e… nuff.”

  “Diesel, man, you’re lucky that you remained breathing on your own for as long as you did. You only began fading before I came. If Rory hadn’t called me when she did—”

  “Wa… Want her…” I want to add the word here, but it’s too much effort. The truth is…I just want her.

  “You’re going to have to cool your jets. She’s had a hard time of it, and she needs her rest. She has to have time to recover too.”

  “Pregnant,” I murmur, managing to get the word out with one try. It feels like I won a war with that feat.

  I need to get the doctor to check me out. Rory swore the child is mine. I need to know if somehow my damn vasectomy was botched or what’s going on. I’ve been lied to by women who made a career of spinning tales. Rory… she’s different and no woman who was lying and using you would protect your child like she did, not when they were convinced I was dead. I don’t know much of anything anymore, but I know that. I also know that whatever the outcome, I’m keeping Rory. She’s mine and if I can ever get the chance to talk to her and be a man who can wipe his own ass again… I’ll tell her that.

  “Hoss…” Crusher says, his voice changing for some reason.

  I don’t know why he’s taken to calling me Hoss. If I could talk, I’d tell him to stop. It’s not worth the effort to tell him that right now, however. When he doesn’t say anything else, I look up at him to see what the problem is. I don’t like what I see on his face.

  “What?”

  “Rory lost the baby. I don’t know the details, Rory won’t talk about it, but apparently, she broke down around Nicole. Dragon said she was a mess. Doesn’t matter how hard he presses her though—and he admits he hasn’t tried much because he didn’t want to make things worse—she won’t tell him.”

  Crusher’s words rip through me, leaving destruction in their place. Frustration, anger, pain… it’s all there. I grab the cup of ice chips off the table and sling them.

  “I wish you could talk more, man. There’s a lot we need to discuss,” Crusher says.

  I ignore him. I hold my head down as anger and grief war inside of me. A plan forms in my mind. I need to find a way to get the doctor to understand me enough to get a fucking test ran and then I need to be able to talk. Rory and I have a lot of things to discuss and I’ve got a lot of shit to make up to her. My priorities have changed. Ryan and Rory come first, and once I have that squared away and Rory back with me—I’m going to hunt down the ones responsible for all of this.

  Which leads me to look at Crusher, take a breath and force my next words out.

  “Tell me a…bout… King.”

  28

  Rory

  I look around the hospital room, feeling more than a little uncomfortable. I don’t want to be here. If it wasn’t for the need to be wherever Ryan is, I wouldn’t be. They need to get him out of Montana, but no one is listening to me. They don’t take King as a serious enough threat, but they’ll learn. I just have to make sure Ryan doesn’t pay for them being stupid.

  “Rory?” Diesel asks. He doesn’t talk plain, but somehow when he says my name, it never fails to send chills running down my spine. I squash down the memories that threaten to bubble to the surface with that thought.

  “I’m sorry?” I ask, having no idea what Diesel just said. I’ve spent my time in this room ignoring the fact that he’s here. It hasn’t worked great, but it’s better than the alternative.

  “Thank… you… for com…coming,” Diesel says.

  It’s been almost three weeks since he woke up. This is the first day I’ve been back. Always be
fore, Crusher takes Ryan to see his dad and I stay with Gunner or Rebel at the hotel. They stay all day, but I’ve never asked what they did. Diesel is on regulated visiting hours and he’s only truly allowed two visitors an hour at a time, three times a day. Being here today it’s clear that they’re not following the rules—which is annoying, because I don’t truly want to be here. I had been hoping a nurse would make me leave. It’s disappointing that it hasn’t happened. I think Gavin arranged it so Crusher and the others can be here longer. I can’t be sure—mostly because, like I said, I haven’t been here.

  “I didn’t exactly have a choice. I hear you ordered I show up,” I grumble. “Besides I wanted to stay close to Ryan. You really need to get him out of Montana, Diesel. It wouldn’t pay to take my brother lightly.”

  “We need… talk.”

  I look over at a sleeping Ryan who is curled up against his father. His face is totally relaxed and he manages to look happy in his sleep—something he hasn’t been since the day King tried to kill Diesel.

  “We’ve nothing to say to each other, Diesel.”

  “No-ah,” he growls. He doesn’t like me calling him Diesel and that’s been another change. I’ve forced myself to stop thinking of him as Noah, but as Diesel. I refuse to allow myself to call him Noah—even in my thoughts. He recognized the change at once, but I’ve held strong and I’ll keep doing it... I have to.

  “Diesel.”

  I don’t give an inch. I think if I gave him an inch, he’d demand even more. He huffs out a breath, but doesn’t respond. He does however stare at me as if he’s waiting for me to capitulate to his will.

  He’ll be waiting until hell freezes over.

  I cross my arms at my chest and I hold his stare. He sighs.

  “We need… talk.”

  “We need to get Ryan out of Montana,” I argue. “We need him safe.”

  “Talk.”

  He’s like a damn dog with a bone.

  “Maybe your memory is affected by the coma, so I’ll try and catch you up. Everything we had to say to each other was said. There’s nothing more to discuss.”

  “Bullshit,” he says, and it’s really annoying that he gets that one word out without a problem and you can hear the disbelief in his voice.

  He stares at me and I know he has more to say, but suddenly I’m thankful he has trouble talking.

  “I—”

  “Ryan will… go home tomorrow,” he says and he stumbles over the words, but he’s definitely getting better at them and that means bad things for me. I only worry about that for a second, before what he says registers. Tomorrow. I wanted him out of Montana, but Ryan going home, surrounded by Diesel’s men and his family… I won’t be needed.

  “I’ll say goodbye to him tonight,” I whisper, my voice trembling, even though I try to keep my emotion out of it. This is what’s best for Ryan and that’s all that matters. I need to try and figure out a way to stop my brother. It’d be safer that I do that without Ryan close to me.

  “You,” he growls and my eyes jerk up to his face. There’s an intensity there that scares me and only part of it is anger…. “are going… too.”

  “No, I—”

  “Yes,” he says and the alarm on his monitor begins sounding. A glance at it confirms his heart-rate has spiked. I frown looking back at him, but the words stop when Ryan wakes up.

  “Rory! When did you get here? Did Dad tell you the good news? Uncle Crusher said they’re taking him to a hospital in Tennessee to help him to walk and talk again! He’s going home and we are too! We’re all going back home! Isn’t that great?” he cries, excitedly. He slides from the bed and comes running to me. “I can’t wait! And you’ll love it there, Rory. I can’t wait for you to meet Dakota and all of my friends, and you have to meet Aunt Dani!”

  “I don’t think I can go, Ryan. I don’t belong there, baby—”

  “Yes,” Diesel growls. Both Ryan and I jerk and turn to look at him. His face is a picture of classic stubborn man. He’s not going to accept no for an answer.

  He’s in for a surprise.

  “Keep you both, safe.”

  I hold my head down. He wants to make sure we’re both safe. That’s a good feeling, even if it’s not what I want. Ultimately, it’s not him that holds my tongue. No, he’s not the reason I agree at all.

  “Don’t you want to go home with me, Rory? You told me you’d take care of me. You told me you loved me,” Ryan says, pulling at my heart strings like only an innocent, small child could. When I look down at his face, tears are shining in his eyes.

  “Your Dad and Uncle Crusher are here to take care of you now, baby,” I try, feeling like I can’t breathe.

  “I want you,” he says, proving he can be just as stubborn as his father.

  My biggest problem is that I want him too. The thought of letting Ryan go, kills me, but I’ve resigned myself to that. He’s not mine, I don’t get to keep him.

  “Ryan, baby—”

  “Don’t you love me anymore, Rory?” he asks, and he might not be crying but there are tears and they’re sliding quietly down his face… and mine… I can feel the wetness against my cheeks.

  “I love you more than anything in the world,” I tell him, honestly.

  “You could come stay with us, at least until Diesel gets out of the rehabilitation facility. Ryan will need you, at least until his Dad can be there.”

  I look up at Crusher standing at the door. For a brief second, I wish I could slap him all over again. I think he reads that intent in the narrowing of my eyes because the idiot smiles.

  I swallow, trying to remain strong and not give in—even if it’s secretly what I wish I could do.

  “Please, Rory?” Ryan asks me. My hand brushes the hair off the side of his face. His hair has gotten way too long and probably needs cut. When it’s like this it reminds me more of Diesel’s. My brother said Ryan was his, but I can’t see it—not really. I use my thumb to wipe away one of Ryan’s tears. My precious little boy has cried too many of these lately. He should be free and happy, even carefree. He shouldn’t have had to witness what he has, shouldn’t have had fear be a constant in his life this young. Children are meant to be protected, loved…sheltered from the harshness of real life.

  “Okay,” I whisper, and he cries this joyful noise, his arms going around me. I take the weight of him pulling him up into my arms, letting my eyes close as I hold him. When I open them back up, Ryan’s body still pressed deeply against mine, Diesel is staring directly at me. His gaze is so intense, so heated, that I’m sure it burns me. The intensity in his eyes scares me and I swallow against the fear. “Just until your Dad’s back on his feet again,” I caution, and Diesel’s mouth grows tight.

  There’s going to be a fight between us and soon, but then, that’s nothing new.

  It seems like I’ve been fighting with this man since the first moment I laid eyes on him. I guess that was a warning right from the beginning.

  Too bad I didn’t heed it.

  29

  Rory

  It’s strange how quick your life can turn. Ryan and I boarded a plane with Gunner and Rebel to head back to Tennessee. Dragon had gone back to Kentucky a few days after Diesel came out of the coma. He said he didn’t want to stay gone from Nicole that long. If I didn’t like her, that would be just another reason to hate her. As it is, I’m glad I don’t have to be around her. Dragon arranged for Diesel’s men to have their bikes and Diesel’s belongings sent back to Tennessee too. When these men get a plan in their head, it moves at the speed of light.

  I’ve never been in Tennessee, and to be honest I didn’t get to see much of it. Gunner brought us straight to Diesel’s compound. I don’t know what I expected. I thought he would live in a house with Ryan and maybe all these men had houses around him. I had no idea. I’ve never been exposed to the biker world. It became apparent immediately that Diesel’s world is definitely one hundred percent biker. He doesn’t live in a house separate from his men. They all liv
e in a giant brick building—which I’m almost sure used to be an elementary school. There’s a bar area that I swear looks like it used to be a gym. You can go through double doors to it, and there’s two side doors that lead to a really huge kitchen. There are doors on the far end that lead to the back of a stage. There’s constant music blaring and scantily clad women dancing on poles. There are steps up to the stage itself and several tables on the wide ledge—almost deck—at the top of the stairs. I’ve learned from the other women that those are officer tables. I guess Diesel likes to be closer to the naked women, or almost naked. There are two large halls one on each side of the main entrance and they all lead to rooms—which is another reason I’m sure it was a school. Diesel’s room is the largest by far and there’s a room inside of it that includes a walk-in shower and huge soaking tub. I’m almost certain that his room used to be a library and the bathroom was the librarian’s office.

  I only know what Diesel’s room looks like because it’s where I was put. Some guy named Fury had all of my belongings—which admittedly is not much—brought here and told me that this is where I’ll be staying. I would have argued the point, but it’s clearly the nicest room here and Diesel’s not going to be here anyway. I’ve spent the day with Ryan escorting me around and introducing me to everyone. It almost feels like he is showing me off, which can be a little embarrassing, but is also unbelievably sweet.

  Crusher hasn’t made it back yet, although I heard the others talking that he will be back really late tonight. Apparently, he rode on a medical transport flight with Diesel. I didn’t realize they did those to send someone to a rehab facility, but I suspect Gavin Lodge had something to do with that. He’s such a nice guy, why couldn’t I fall for a guy like that? He even called me to make sure I got here safe. I’m pretty sure that’s not in his normal job description.