by L. Grubb
“Such a sweet talker.” She shakes her head and stands up, walking toward me with a roguish smile, mischief dancing in her eyes.
“What are you up to, princess?” I ask, backing away slightly.
“I just want a hug, big boy.” She laughs, wrapping her arms around my waist and laying her head against my chest.
My heart skips a beat and warmth flows through me at the contact. I rest my head on top of hers, my arms encircling her waist and squeeze her tightly.
“Prez said we can go see your mother,” I say softly into her vanilla smelling hair.
“Really? That’s great. We have to wait for Lauren though,” she replies, pulling away and peering up at me.
“Why do we have to wait for Lauren?” I ask with eyebrows raised. She never said shit about Lauren coming with us.
“Because she always comes with me. She knows how hard it is for me after visiting her.” She looks at me, trying to gouge my reaction.
I sigh. “Fine.” I pull her out of the bedroom and toward the bar area for a quick water before we leave and to wait for Lauren to finish doing whatever it is she’s doing.
Finally, twenty minutes later, Lauren emerges, looking around the room before finding us sitting at the bar.
“Sorry, Champ distracted me,” Lauren says, beaming a smile at us both.
“Don’t want to know, thank you. Shall we go?” I cringe at the image of a butt naked Champ and shiver. Gross.
We walk out the doors behind two prospects that escort us to the bulletproof Range Rover to the side of the courtyard. I help the girls in before rounding the shiny black SUV to the driver’s side, hopping up into the cab.
“Impressive,” Alexis says, rubbing a hand over the dashboard.
“It’s the club’s, so it’s not mine specifically,” I answer, smiling at her.
I pull my shades on to fight the blinding sun and start the car. The prospects on guard open the gates, and I fly out, heading to the community care home.
Alexis
We roll up to the care home and park close to the entrance. Safety reasons, Cobra said.
We all get out and head in together, and I take a few steady breaths before going to reception. It’s always hard visiting mom in this place. Alzheimer’s is kicking her ass, and it isn’t easy watching her weaken. Last week, she struggled to remember what she ate for breakfast that morning when it was only a few hours prior to me turning up. I don’t suppose this visit will be any better, but I have to keep visiting her. She’s all I have left, and I love her a million times over.
“Hello, Miss Newman. You can go on through.” The receptionist looks up and smiles at us. I quickly sign us in and walk in the direction of her room, slowing slightly the closer we get.
Lauren wraps an arm around my shoulders. She knows first hand how hard this is for me. It’s hard on her too, my mom is like her mom.
Growing up, Lauren was always over at our house for slumber parties and study days. She hated her home life, and my mom welcomed her with open arms.
Lauren loves her like her own but keeps her emotions bottled inside her, not letting one single emotion pour out after a visit because she’s always there to pick up my shattered pieces.
I take a few shallow breaths before knocking on her room door. She never answers, but I was brought up with manners.
“Mom?” I say, walking into her room. There she lay, tucked into her clinically white bed with her patchwork quilt over her, watching the television at the end of her bed.
“Alexis!” she squeals in delight. “I’ve missed you, sweet girl. It’s been too many years. Come give this old girl a hug.”
My stomach plummets. She doesn’t remember me visiting last week, and any week prior to that in fact. I walk over and give her a light hug, being careful with her fragile body.
“Lauren is here too,” I whisper in her ear before letting her go.
“Lauren! Sweet girl, come here!” she exclaims. Lauren rushes over and hugs her briefly before sitting on the bed next to her.
“How are you feeling, Judy?” Lauren asks, smiling at mom in a love filled way. “I’ve missed you this last week.”
“I feel okay, thank you. My thoughts are a little jumbled, and I’m feeling more confused. I don’t remember a lot of things and it’s frustrating.” She frowns as she says this.
“You don’t need to remember, Mom, you just need to keep fighting,” I tell her, giving her a tight smile. “Probably not a lot of eventful things to remember being cooped up in here every day anyway.”
“Very true, darling. So, who’s the fine specimen of a man that’s standing by the door behind you, Alexis? Where are your manners?” she asks, giving me a stern look.
“His name’s Cobra. He’s my boyfriend, Mom,” I say sheepishly.
She only ever met one boyfriend of mine before and hated him as much as I do now. Though she didn’t know the full extent of the shit he put me through, she had a mother’s intuition about him. She once called him a slimy slug and frogs spawn. She didn’t trust him nor did she care to get to know him. I’m glad of that now. I’m glad she never fell for the charming bullshit he spewed a lot.
She raised her eyebrows. “I thought you were with that boy, what’s his name…Oh yes, Riley. What about him?” she asks, her brows knitted in confusion.
“Mom, that was five years ago. You never liked him anyway.” I don’t repeat all the nasty shit he’s said to us all those years ago, there’s no point in letting her remember now.
“Oh.” She purses her lips together, deep in thought. “He was an asshole anyway.”
Yup. That’s where I get the no filter and potty mouth from. My mother just says shit how it is and doesn’t give a fuck what people think of her.
I laugh and agree wholeheartedly with her. “That’s right, he was.”
We fall into easy conversation. Well, Lauren and I talk about what we’ve been up to and all that jazz while she listens intently, piping up to give advice.
All too soon, she’s fast asleep, snoring lightly. I give her one last kiss before I turn to leave. When I reach reception, I ask if I can speak to the specialist in charge of her care for an update, and she calls him.
“He’ll be down in just a second, Miss Newman. Please take a seat,” she says, smiling brightly at me.
I take a seat in one of the plastic chairs by the front door, my knee bouncing with nervous energy.
“Miss Newman?” a male, baritone voice calls across the front hall not five minutes later.
I stand to greet him with a warm smile, striding across the floor to shake his outstretched hand. “Good morning, Dr. Pentergast.”
“What can I do for you today?” he asks. “I’m just going on my rounds so I only have a few minutes to spare.”
“Just an update on mom’s condition? She seems a little more frail then she did last week,” I ask timidly, not sure I really want to know the answers.
“I’m going to the ladies’ room, where will you be?” Lauren says, crossing her legs and bouncing on the spot. Ah, if only I had a camera, she looks ridiculous.
“We’ll be just down that hall, second door on the left,” Dr. Pentergast replies, pointing down the hallway.
“Thank you!” She runs off in the direction of the toilet at breakneck speed, and I just shake my head and laugh at her retreating back.
Cobra and I make our way to Dr. Pentergast’s downstairs office and take a seat in front of his mahogany desk.
“Your mother’s health is deteriorating rapidly. During the night, she gets agitated and leaves her room, bangs on the locked front doors trying to get out. During the day, she freaks out if any of the other patients approach her, and she lashes out at them. But when she’s in her room with nurses or myself, she’s calm, collected and fine. Her appetite has decreased and is now only managing to eat one meal a day, even then it’s only a sub or half a sub. She’s refusing to drink anything other than coffee which is worrying so we now keep her fluids up by drip
as you probably noticed. The last few days she’s found it increasingly difficult to get out of bed and is seeming to get weaker and weaker,” he tells us in a clinical, professional manner.
“Is there any way she will get better? Or, if not, how long does she have left? Just so I can prepare myself.” I don’t know much about the disease that is ripping my mother from me right before my very eyes, I never researched it because I didn’t want to be faced with reality. I feel Cobra’s hand slipping into mine, squeezing gently in silent support.
“She won’t get any better, she will only get worse. Unfortunately, there is no cure for Alzheimer’s. We’re thinking she has maybe two to three weeks left. I’m really sorry to have to tell you this, Miss Newman. I can imagine this is hard for you to take in.” His eyes crinkle with compassion.
I have known this man since my mother came to stay here two years ago, and I have grown very fond of him. He’s always professional, but is also great to chat with, kind of like a grandfatherly figure if you wish.
“Okay,” I reply, tears filling the corners of my eyes. Not long left at all.
I lower my head and stare at my hands wringing in my lap. I knew this day would come at some point, but I never knew how hard it was going to be. I never prepared myself because I always hoped they’d find some sort of miracle to help her. Now I know there isn’t, now it’s just a waiting game. “Thank you for letting me know.”
“You’re welcome, Miss Newman. If you need someone to talk to, my door is always open,” he says, giving me a slight smile of compassion.
We get up and shake his hand, thanking him again before making our way back to the front of the building. I snuggle in closer to Cobra as he holds me to him.
I look around and notice there’s still no sign of Lauren. I glance at my watch and see we were in Dr. Pentergast’s office for almost twenty minutes, but Lauren never returned.
“I’m going to go see if Lauren’s okay. She still hasn’t come back from the ladies’ room,” I say to Cobra, leaning up and placing a kiss on his lips.
“I’ll follow behind you, I can’t chance anything, princess,” he replies.
I smile at him and walk down the passage to the ladies’ room, hoping Lauren hasn’t caught a bug or something. I reach the room and swing open the door. The smell of disinfectant assaults my nose and I scrunch my nose in distaste. “Lauren?”
Silence. Absolute silence. “Lauren?” I say again but this time a little louder.
I go to each stall and open them, banging the door against the inside wall as I get more frantic. Nothing. She isn’t in here.
I rush back out to Cobra who’s waiting against the opposite wall, foot resting against it and arms crossed over his chest. Yummy. No time for sex thoughts, Alexis! I scream at myself in my head.
“Lauren isn’t in there, Cobra,” I say as I rush passed him, back to the reception desk.
“Sorry to disturb you again, but have you seen the woman that was with us before we went to talk to Dr. Pentergast?” I ask the receptionist, clinging to the top and making my knuckles go white.
“No, sorry. I assumed she went down to the room with you.” She crinkles her brows in confusion. Probably at the slightly panicked look on my face.
“Thank you.” I turn to Cobra, my eyes searching his frantically as to what to do next.
“Is there any chance to speak to security about viewing the tape down the corridor?” Cobra asks.
“I’ll call them,” she replies, a nervous look spreading across her features.
Five minutes later, a man comes toward us in a crisp white shirt and dress pants, with patches on the shoulder, a beer gut protruding from his belly and a comb-over on his head.
“Can I help you, Miss?” he asks, looking directly at me but flicking a nervous glance toward Cobra.
“My friend. She went to the bathroom and never came back. I’ve already checked and no she isn’t in there, before you ask,” I rush out, getting more and more anxious about Lauren.
“How long ago was this?” He grabs his pen and notepad, scribbling notes down.
“Around half an hour ago,” Cobra interjects, putting a reassuring arm across my shoulders.
“Okay. Come with me and I’ll check the cameras.” He turns on his heel and walks down the same hallway that we had just been down with the doctor.
We enter a dark room, cold biting my skin and banks of monitors displaying all the cameras in the building.
He sits in a wing back chair, and furiously types at his keyboard, bringing up the camera for the bathroom corridor. He rewinds thirty-five minutes and presses play via his mouse.
We stand there, stock still, my stomach somersaulting and an involuntary sob escapes from my mouth. No, no, no, this can’t be happening.
On the screen, we see a tall, dark figure in leather pants, worn lace up boots and a Hell Riders’ cut covering his back while a hood covers his head. He walks to the ladies’ room, checking the hallway to make sure no one is looking before walking straight in.
Ten minutes later, the offending figure comes back out, carrying what seems to be an unconscious Lauren in his arms. He moves further down the hall to the emergency exit and disappears.
My body is shaking, tears are streaming down my face, and I feel sick to my stomach. Why Lauren? Why my best friend?
I turn my face into Cobra’s chest and sob unattractively, clutching to him like he’s my lifeline. Maybe he is.
“Come on, let’s get back to the clubhouse. Now,” he whispers to me before directing his attention to the security guard. “We’ll handle this, sir. Thank you for taking time to show us this.”
Cobra puts his arm around my shoulder and takes us out to the car, keeping a firm grip on my shoulder to keep me upright. I’m numb. Completely and utterly numb. Where have they taken my best friend? Why do they want her?
I go through the motions of getting in and strapping myself up, staring blankly out of the front window.
I don’t remember any of the journey, but Cobra is soon dragging me out of the car and carrying me into the clubhouse, taking me straight to the medical room, where he was only a matter of weeks ago.
“I’m going to get the doc to look you over because you’re freaking me the fuck out,” he tells me, stroking my hair from my face before placing a gentle kiss to my forehead.
He heads out the room, turning back once to give me a comforting smile and closes the door.
Just what I don’t need. Silence. Silence that can bring on horrible thoughts and to let my imagination run wild.
The door opens, but I don’t turn to look at who’s entered. To be honest, I don’t care. I just want my best friend back here with us.
I feel something cold against my arm but continue staring at the ceiling, completely mute. I can’t talk. The tears have stopped, but only because there are no more. I need Lauren.
A sharp stab in my arm makes me wince slightly and soon the room is spinning and my eyes flutter closed. Mm…Sleep, just what I need. I can’t form a thought before blackness takes me under.
Chapter 20
Alexis
I wake in a daze. The room is dark, not a slither of light to tell me where I am or what time it is. I look around desperately in hope that some inane shadowed object will give me a clue. A light snoring can be heard from the far corner of the room, and I squint my eyes to try and see. Where the hell am I?
A split second later, I remember. Lauren. The Hell Riders’ man who took her from the bathroom at the community care home. My breakdown.
A loud sob escapes me, and I tremble uncontrollably. I wrap my arms around my waist in a vain attempt to stop the pain.
“Alexis?” The snoring has stopped, and I look up to see the silhouette of Cobra walking toward me.
I don’t reply, I just stare at him. Have they found Lauren? Is she safe? Is she okay?
“Alexis, princess. Calm down, you’re okay,” he soothingly tells me, cupping a hand to my face. I lean into his hand, t
aking comfort in his warmth. “How do you feel?”
“Groggy. Need water,” I croak out through a dry throat.
“I’ll go grab you a cold bottle. I’ll be right back,” he says, standing from my bed. He opens the door and the hallway light shines in, painful against my eyes, and I squeeze them shut. The soft click of the door tells me he’s left, and I once again try and take stock of the room I’m in.
Vivid images of what could be happening to Lauren spring in my mind. Blood, gore and rape flash through my thoughts at lightning speed. I feel the bile rise at the back of my throat but swallow it down, wincing at the burn.
The door creaks open, and I cower into the corner. Jesus, I’m jumpy. But, it seems it doesn’t matter where you are or how safe you feel, anything can happen.
“It’s okay, princess. It’s just me.”
Cobra. It’s just Cobra. I take in a few steady breaths to calm my erratic heart and unfold myself from the corner of the bed.
He leaves the door open a crack to let in some light before walking over to me, slowly. Holding out the bottle of water, he says, “Here you go, babe.”
I take the water in my shaking hands, trying, and failing, to take the cap off. “I’m useless,” I murmur.
“Let me.” He smiles timidly at me. A small smile that shows his sympathy at my pain.
He hands me back the water, and I gratefully down the whole bottle, sighing in pleasure when it’s finished.
“Better?” he asks.
“Much.” I give him a slight smile to show my appreciation. “I don’t know why I’m in such a state. Lauren’s the one that has been taken, yet, here I am drowning in self-pity while she’s going through God knows what, at fuck knows where.”
I feel the anger overriding the pain, and I allow it to course through my entire being.
“She’s you’re best friend, Alexis. It’s understandable,” he says to me, looking at my eyes.
I must look like a crazy loon, flying off the band wagon like this because my best friend was taken. I should be the strong one. I should be out there looking for her, but instead I’m sitting in this tiny room feeling damn sorry for myself.