She’s mine.
Poseidon
We’ve been slowly getting to know one another over these past few days, and I discover that the more she shares with me, that she was born and meant for me. It’s as if God plucked the perfect woman from my mind and inserted her into my life when I needed her the most. Right now, she’s laying down on the bed, wrapped like a burrito in the comforter, as I bring in more firewood to keep the cabin warm. The snow hasn’t stopped coming down like sheets of white powder, it’s never ending, and there’s such a downfall of packed snow that I suspect we might be here longer than what I initially told her. Now that I’m back inside, I start to brew a pot of coffee and fix a mug for myself before I go check on her again. She looked a little flushed earlier and that concerns me considering how long she was exposed to the elements the day she arrived.
Leaning down, I notice that her cheeks are rosier than they were before, yet she’s violently shivering despite the heat in the room and the number of blankets on the bed. I can also hear a slight wheeze crackling from her chest every time she exhales. Reaching out, I place my hand over her forehead then instantly draw my hand back when I feel the blazing heat pouring off of her. Fuck. I’ve been worried about her getting sick and coming down with a fever, it seems that my previous concern and worry was just validated. She doesn’t wake up as I check her vitals, her pulse is faster than I’d like for it to be. Pain and illness can do that to an individual, so I go into the bathroom and grab the small first aid kit I keep up here. I don’t store anything in the cabinets that has an expiration date because I’m only here once a year; I bring those items with me when I come and put them in the kitchen, so I remember to take them back when I leave. The benefit of having a mom who is a traveling nurse is that I have more than a general knowledge of first aid. I need to know what all I’m dealing with before I give Trident a call for assistance. Grabbing the thermometer, I quickly clean it with an alcohol wipe then return to Lilli’s side. “Sweet girl, I need you to wake up for a minute, okay?”
It takes a few minutes for her to rouse and when she peeks up at me with those fever-glazed eyes, my heart clenches as my soul aches for her. “W-what’s going on, Poseidon?” Her voice is croaky sounding, almost as if it pains her to speak. I mentally remind myself to make her a cup of tea and add some honey to it in order to help soothe her throat.
“Need to take your temperature, you’re running a fever and I need to know how high it is,” I inform her, turning the thermometer on and placing it between her lips. “I think your outdoor shenanigans were too much for your body to deal with.” I watch as the number keeps climbing until it finally chimes. Fuck! “Lilli, I’m going to run you a tepid bath. We’ve got to get this fever down.” Yeah, we do because she’s running a temp of one hundred and two.
Not good.
Not good at all.
I had to help her into the tub. Despite my obvious physical attraction to her, based on my dick’s reaction, she’s definitely too sick to entertain any of the thoughts running around in my head. I need to give Trident a call and see if there’s any way he can get up here with any medical supplies, but it’ll have to wait until I have her out of the tub and back into the warmth of the bed. My mind is racing as I try to think of what I can make for her that might help other than the tea. Chicken noodle soup. It’s always made me feel better when I was hurt. Winnie’s voice filters through my thoughts and I smile. Hearing her voice in my mind always helps me settle down. Sometimes, when she was too injured to go right to sleep, my mom would make her some soup, saying it had healing properties. Lilli coughs, a deep, barking sound; it pulls me from my thoughts. “C’mon, pretty girl, let’s get you into something warm.”
Once I have her dried off and dressed again, I get her settled on the couch then head into the kitchen to start a pot of chicken noodle soup. Hearing her cough again, I fix her a mug of tea with some of the local honey I have and carry it back to her. “Thank you,” she says, taking it from me. Her eyes still look glassy, but I think her fever has come down a little just from the bath.
“Let’s get some Tylenol in you, too,” I state, handing her the two capsules I grabbed before coming back to where she’s laying on the couch, the fireplace crackling in the background. My heart clenches at how pitiful of a picture she portrays. I adamantly shake my head because I’ve never met anyone who’s gotten under my skin as quickly and succinctly as Lilli has. That’s because she’s the one for you, Winnie whispers.
“I don’t usually get sick,” she counters after swallowing what I gave her.
“Honestly, I think the stress that you’ve been under from your parents dying, plus, whatever the fuck those two assholes have been giving you, lowered your body’s immune system. Add to it your traipse through the blizzard and you had the makings for a perfect storm going on, sweetheart. I’m gonna call Trident and see if he can get up here to help.”
“What can he do?” she questions as she blows the steam from her mug.
“He’s an emergency room trauma nurse and was our medic when we served in the Navy together. He can get his hands on the stuff to help you get better quicker than if we just ride it out. You just try to relax and let me call him.”
“I’m sorry I’m such a burden, you weren’t anticipating playing nursemaid to a perfect stranger.” Her voice is small, something that I don’t like at all, because she’s definitely not a wallflower.
“You’re not a bother to me, Lilli, and you’ll never be a burden. This is part of me taking care of what’s mine,” I emphatically state. Her eyes draw up when I make that proclamation. She may be questioning my sanity right about now, but she’ll soon learn that I don’t spew words I don’t mean.
Even though there’s not much room in the cabin, I step over to the kitchen area and putter with the soup on the stove as I place the call to my right hand man, my enforcer.
“Yo,” Trident says as he answers my call.
“How hard would it be for you to get yourself up here with some medical shit?” I question, but really, my voice comes out as a demand for his help.
“What do you need? Wait, isn’t it still snowing, or blizzarding I should say?” I chuckle because it’s been snowing non-stop for such a long period of time, I wonder what the hell I was thinking coming up here in the first place.
“Lilli’s fucking sick as fuck, brother.” When he called me a few days ago to tell me what they found with her car, I filled him in on who she was and why she was here with me.
He immediately goes into a no-holds-barred tone of voice that’s what I refer to as his ‘medical mode’, asking, “What’s going on with her?”
“High fever, chills, nasty cough,” I reply, glancing over toward the couch. She’s still sitting up and I can see her sipping the tea I gave her. Her hands shake as the mug comes up to her mouth. I want to go and assist her, but I don’t want to overstep at the same time.
“How high are we talking about here?” I can hear him moving around and know that he’s probably gathering his go bag as we speak.
“It was one hundred and two a little while ago. Made her take a tepid bath and gave her some Tylenol. Making her some soup now, and she’s drinking that honey tea concoction you feed us when we’re sick.”
“Is she drinking enough fluids? Anything outside of the tea? Water, Gatorade, maybe some popsicles? You know, you have plenty of snow to make some homemade shit up there, brother.” I stop and think about what he’s asking. She’s fluctuated between hot chocolate, water, and now the tea, but she’s probably not drinking enough since the last day or two, she’s been so drowsy.
“I don’t think so now that you mention it,” I say. “I don’t have any Gatorade and I don’t know how to make homemade popsicles from snow, motherfucker.”
“Okay, I know my truck will make it up there. Gonna bring more liquids, some powdered Gatorade, plus, a bag or two of fluids and some broad-spectrum antibiotics that’ll treat pneumonia in case that’s where she’s headin
g. Also going to grab a nebulizer and some albuterol so she can do a few breathing treatments. It’s not ideal, but I know with the weather, your piece of shit truck won’t make it back, so I’ll come to you.” He needs to lay off the whole my shit’s better than yours bullshit he’s always spewing.
“Fucker,” I growl out. The only difference between our individual trucks is who the manufacturer is; we both have four wheel drives and because I was coming up here, and knew the weather might go sideways, I made sure to weigh mine down with bags of sand so I wouldn’t slide or fishtail.
“Whatever. Regardless, she probably shouldn’t get out right now anyhow, so this is just as good. Should be there in a few hours depending on the roads.” I should feel bad about asking him to come here during snowmageddon, but since his truck is ‘superior’ to mine, it shouldn’t be a problem.
“Thanks, brother. See you when you get here. Don’t wreck your superb truck.” I chuckle, disconnecting the call before grabbing a bottle of water and walking back to the couch. She’s fallen into a peaceful slumber, so I quietly set the bottle of water on the side table, then drawing the quilt from the back of the couch and covering her with it, I move to sit in the chair across from her. As soon as I begin to contemplate closing my eyes for a short catnap, I hear the soft ping of my phone, looking down, I see that I’ve got an incoming email from Specks.
Sliding my finger over the touch screen, I open it up. I read through the pages of information he dug up on both Anson, the piece of shit, and her so-called best friend, Kassidy, my anger growing with each word I read in his report. He also attached a video of a news conference, announcing Lillianna as a ‘supposedly’ missing person, but I don’t want to wake her up, so I’ll wait to watch that until later. Deciding that that nap I tried for earlier is the perfect thing for this snowy day, I get up and lower the heat on the stove so that the soup will simmer, then gently pick Lilli up and carry her back to the bed. She never wakes and I can hear that her breathing sounds worse even though she’s a bit cooler since her bath and the fever-reducing medicine. With a featherlight touch, I kiss her forehead, then tuck her in and crawl in behind her, one thought pounding profusely in my head.
Mine.
Lillianna
I wake up feeling even worse than I did before, despite the bath Poseidon helped me take, the honey tea I drank and the Tylenol he gave me. My throat feels as if it’s on fire and I can hear the crackling in my chest with every breath I intake and exhale. As a matter of fact, it almost feels as though someone is sitting on it right now and ice is coating my lungs. “Poseidon?” I manage to weakly croak out.
“I’ve got you, Lilli, what’s wrong?” His voice is husky and despite how hideous I feel, it’s soothing and I feel the calm wash over my body. It feels as if the sky opened up and embraced me. I don’t know what it is about him, but he has an anchoring effect on my soul. Something I haven’t felt since the day my parents passed away.
“I feel worse,” I admit as a coughing fit ensues. Despite the number of blankets on the bed and the fact that he’s got a helluva fire going, I feel chilled down to the marrow of my bones. He pulls me in closer to him and places his hand on my forehead. It feels cool against my heated skin and I find myself burrowing into his hand. Right now, I miss my mom and I can feel the tears well up and fall down my face. I’ll never not want my mother’s comfort when times like this arise. Nothing is as settling as the love of a mother for her child.
“Shh, it’s okay, pretty girl,” he softly talks, wiping my tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “Trident’s on his way and we’ll have you feeling better in no time.” He believes I’m crying because of the aches and chills my body’s suffering.
Needing to share with him how I’m feeling, the loss I still suffer from, I can’t help the words that spill out of my mouth. “I wish my mom were still alive,” I chokingly whisper, the tears flowing faster than he can remove them. “Whenever I was sick, she’d make me chicken noodle soup to eat and give me ginger ale to drink. I got to watch whatever I wanted, and she’d make me comfortable on the couch.” The memories flood my mind, and my mind is full of sorrow from the loss of the two most profound people in my world.
“Well, I’ve got soup on the stove, and Trident has ginger ale on his list. It’s more comfortable on the bed if we’re gonna watch something, though,” he answers.
“Where’s the television?” I ask. He rolls away from me and goes over to what I thought was a clothes wardrobe and opens it to reveal a flat screen television and a DVD player. “Huh, I just figured your clothes were in there,” I express as he rummages through a stack of movies.
“The bottom drawers have my clothes,” he answers. “What are you in the mood for? The movies are older because I only come up maybe once a year.” My eyes travel to his ass that’s sticking up in the air as he’s bent over. I’m not feeling well enough for any hanky panky, but a girl can admire something so arousing even if she’s near death’s door.
“As long as it’s not a horror film, I’m good.” My body shivers in a different way, I’m a girly girl, and I’d be the dumb broad who watches over her shoulder and trips on every blade of grass. No thank you, I’d prefer not to have that visual stuck in my head while we’re out in the middle of nowhere.
“No slasher films for my woman, huh?” he teases.
“Hell no.” There’s no way in hell I’d ever get any sleep if we watched one. I’d have my head buried in his lap, and never allow him out of my line of sight.
His chuckles fill the open room, bouncing off the walls and despite how shitty I feel, I find myself smiling. When he turns the set on and I see the movie pop up, I squeal, which sets me off on another coughing spell. I’ve been wanting to see this movie but didn’t get a chance when it came out in the theater with everything else going on. I’m woefully behind, but something tells me he has every one. “You haven’t seen this one yet, have you?” he asks once I’ve stopped trying to remove my head from my body.
“No! I wanted to but life got in the way. Aren’t there a few more out now?” I don’t want to discuss how life got in the way, he already knows most of the dirty details, but there’s some specific memories I’d prefer to keep to myself.
“Yeah, but those are still at the clubhouse.” Drat, I’d love to binge on all of them, it’d be the perfect way to pass the time.
“Okay, then I’ll wait to see them.” I shrug since he’s already said I’ll be staying there once we leave the cabin. He climbs back into the bed and pulls me into the embrace of his arms. Despite only knowing him for a few days, I feel safe and secure and eventually find myself drifting off.
I wake up to someone pounding at the door and nudge Poseidon. “I think your friend is here,” I inform him once his eyes pop open.
“Most likely. No one else would be stupid enough to travel up here in this shit,” he replies, getting out of the bed and going to the door. My eyes widen when he pulls a gun out from under the mattress then yells, “Who the fuck is it?”
I don’t hear the response, but his chuckles lead me to believe that his friend reciprocated with a smartass come back. Poseidon opens the door and I watch as his friend enters the room, bags lined up his arms. I giggle because he’s barely inside and he’s shaking himself off like a dog after an unwanted bath. Of course, I start coughing again, and find two sets of eyes shift to me. Great. I hate being the center of attention!
“I’m Trident,” the other man says, walking over to the bed and dropping the bags. Trident’s dark and imposing, he’s huge, not as big as Poseidon, but intimidating enough to where I wouldn’t cross him in a dark alley. He’s got dark hair that’s styled with a fade, dark brown eyes and muscles coating his body. He’s nothing like I’d envision a trauma nurse looking like. As a matter of fact, he’s the perfect image of a personified biker. “Give me a second and I’ll get you sorted out, okay?” He turns to Poseidon and says, “Brother, I need a towel to dry off a little bit. Seems the caretaker forgot to shovel
.” I see his grin when he says that and I know he’s teasing Poseidon, who claps him on his shoulder and then turns to go grab some towels. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?” he asks me, and I can tell that he’s ‘switched his hats’ because he has taken my wrist in his hand and is checking my pulse while he gives me the once-over.
“I feel like shit,” I divulge. “Of course, if I hadn’t left, I’d probably be dead by now anyway. At least with this, I have a chance of getting better.”
“You didn’t tell me she was beautiful, witty and on top of that has a sense of humor to boot,” he remarks to Poseidon, who has returned.
“Watch it, brother.” Poseidon’s voice comes out as a low grumbled warning and I feel my eyebrows raise from its intensity.
“It’s gonna be like that, huh?” Trident questions, a smile breaching his face as he then starts reaching into a black bag and pulling out a stethoscope. “Gonna need you to take some deep breaths in for me and then slowly exhale,” he informs me with a smile that has dimples popping deep into his cheeks. As a woman, I can appreciate the good looks he has, but then I hear a gravelly growl and snap my attention away from Trident.
I try to do as he asks, but each time I breathe in, I go into a coughing fit. “I-I’m sorry,” I gasp out once I stop hacking up a lung. My lungs sound as if I’ve been a three pack or more a day smoker. Which I’ve never imbibed in a day of my life.
“Don’t worry about it. I think it’s safe to presume that you’ve got pneumonia setting in, at least on one side, you’re past the bronchitis stage at this point. Lucky for you, I came prepared for all scenarios,” he replies, grinning at me. Damn those dimples! If I wasn’t so attracted to Poseidon in all his silver fox glory, I’d be all over Trident like white on rice. As if he knows what I’m thinking, he chuckles, but doesn’t stop pulling shit out of his bag.
Poseidon's Lady (Poseidon's Warriors MC) Page 4