“Raine, honey, are you okay?” Indie sets a box of toiletries on the bathroom floor and I turn and face her.
“Yeah, I’m ... I’m just overwhelmed, that’s all.”
Indie smiles. “It’s weird, isn’t it? Life before the MC, versus life after? One minute you’re locked in a warehouse being tortured, and the next you have an instant family who would all go to ground to protect you because you fell in love with one of their brothers.”
“Well, things are a little different for you. Being an old lady and being the help are really not the same.”
“Oh, honey. You are so delusional. Do you think any of us are here right now because we think of you as the help?” Indie sits on the closed toilet seat and fluffs up her hair. “We’re family. And Jett? He’s in love with you.”
I shake my head. “He and I are—”
“Let me guess, complicated?” She smiles and shrugs her narrow shoulders. “No shit. You’re in love with the president of an MC.”
“I’m married,” I blurt, and then take a deep breath as my tears finally fall over my lashes.
Indie’s brows practically reach the roof of my en suite. “What?”
“He’s ... he’s sick.” My phone vibrates in the pocket of my jeans and I pull it out. Shady Acres. Shit. “It’s the nursing home where he lives. I have to take this.”
“Nursing home?” Indie demands as I step out of the room and answer my phone.
“Hello?”
“Mrs Cole?”
“This is she.”
“It’s Helen from Shady Acres.”
“Is everything all right?”
“Joshua seems to be a little distressed. His vitals are fine, but he has pneumonia—”
“Oh, God. Is he okay?”
“We have him on antibiotics and he’s been steadily improving, but the discomfort is making him unusually difficult. He’s refusing to eat. I checked the logs and noticed it’s been some time since you’ve been in.”
Oh, Josh. God. Not only am I a home-wrecking whore, but while I was busy fucking a man who didn’t belong to me, I neglected my mentally disabled husband. Guilt worms its way through my belly, making me nauseous. “Yeah. I ... er ... I had to go away for work.”
Somehow, I don’t think telling Helen that I was almost raped, held at gunpoint, nearly blown up, and forced into lockdown with a motorcycle club would go over well.
“Well, as you know, patients like Joshua benefit from routine. Is there any chance you could come by now and see him before visiting hours are over?”
I glance at the ceiling and nod. “Sure. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
I hang up and turn to find Grim in the doorway of my new bedroom holding several boxes I don’t remember owning. “Hey, can I talk to you ... shit, are you okay?”
I shake my head. “I need to go see Josh.”
“Wait, he knows about this husband?” Indie leans against the en suite door with her arms folded across her chest.
Grim cants his head. “You told her?”
“Clearly, I’m the last to know anything.”
I press my fingertips to my eye sockets to ward away the headache I’m getting. “Can we just take a rain check on this conversation?”
“Sure,” Indie says, but her full lips are pulled into a pout.
“You want me to drive you?” Grim asks.
“Would you? I’m just not feeling up to driving myself.”
“Of course.”
“Hey, you know who else can drive? Me.”
“Indie, please ...”
“Fine. I’ll just stay here in the dark, unpacking your belongings.”
“I don’t ... I don’t have any belongings,” I murmur, and even I can hear the sadness in my voice. “I lost almost everything with my apartment.”
“Yeah, well. Ivy and I went shopping with Jett’s credit card. So, now you do. No offence, but the biker-whore look just wasn’t for you.”
I sigh and shake my head. The last thing I want is Jett spending more money on me, but I don’t have time to debate this.
“Go,” Indie says. “Be with this mysterious husband of yours—who I knew nothing about—but you and I are going to have a conversation. And soon.”
“Can’t wait,” I mutter as I pull my hair into a ponytail and smooth my hands over my face. Just once, I would like to get through the day without crying.
“Take your key with you. We’ll lock up when we leave.”
I give her a tight smile and pull on the leather jacket I borrowed from Ivy as I head for the door. “Thanks.”
“Raine?”
I turn and glance at my friend.
“I know it doesn’t seem like it, but it’s all gonna be okay.”
“I hope you’re right.”
JETT
AFTER TANK AND I GET done tying up a deal with the president of The Diablo’s Devils—an ex-rival MC and our newest allies, seeing as an Arian sect wants us all dead after taking their shipment of guns from the Russians—I head over to Raine’s apartment. But before I even make it there, I spot Raine and Grim on the highway heading north, and turn the bike around so I can tail them. Grim’s no idiot. By the way he checks his mirrors every three fucking seconds, I know he’s aware that I’m following them. So I give up the pretence and ride alongside them until Grim pulls into the parking lot of a nursing home.
I slide into the space right beside his and shut off the engine.
“What the fuck is this?” I yank off my helmet, and Raine stares at me in wide-eyed surprise as she and Grim climb off his Harley.
“What are you doing here?” Raine asks.
“I could ask you two the same thing.” I rake a hand through my hair, not at all fond of the smug smile Grim is giving me. “This what happens now, darlin’? You lettin’ all the brothers between your sweet little thighs, starting with this sorry bastard?”
Grim laughs, but Raine’s jaw drops and tears well in her eyes. Shit.
“What’s so fuckin’ funny, arsehole? I warned you to stay away from her.”
“What’s funny, Prez, is how fucking clueless you are. Did you even read the sign on the way in?”
“The fuck you talkin’ about?”
“This is a nursing home.”
“And you’re making a scene.” Raine’s cheeks flush pink as she looks toward the front doors of the old folks’ home.
I glance between them. “Why the fuck are we at a nursing home? You got family inside?”
“I do,” she says, and ... is that a fucking resigned sigh?
“I thought you had no one.”
Grim wets his lips. I bet he’s just loving every goddamn second of this. “I’m gonna go—you can catch a ride back with Jett, right?”
“No, Grim.” Raine shakes her head. “Please don’t go.”
“This is ... it’s something you two need to talk about alone.”
“Someone better start fuckin’ talkin’.”
“Watch your language,” she says, and I feel my brows shoot skyward. Did she just tell me to shut the fuck up?
“You need to tell him,” Grim says.
“Tell me what?” I ask through my teeth.
“If you can keep your temper under wraps, I can show you.”
“I’ll see you back at the clubhouse, Prez. Raine, you call me if you need me.”
“You don’t have to leave.”
“Yeah, I do.”
She wraps her arms around his middle and hugs him close. Jealousy twists my gut like a fucking knife, but I shove it down and attempt to keep my temper under control like she ordered me to. Grim presses a kiss to the top of her hair and shoots me a long look. I don’t know what the fuck he’s trying to say without words, but I ain’t a goddamn psychic. He stalks back to his bike and revs the engine, and then he drives slowly past and hands Raine a helmet before driving off.
“What the hell is going on, Raine?”
She sets the helmet on my handlebars and smooths down her hair. �
�There’s someone I want you to meet, and maybe then you’ll understand why I can’t trust myself around you.”
I wanna ask her what the fuck she means by that, but she walks away, and I have no choice but to follow.
We’re made to sign in with a visitor’s book. I glance at the page, and the surname Raine has written there in her neat handwriting. “Cole? I thought your name was Levick? Is there something you need to tell me, darlin’?”
The name change isn’t the only thing I notice. On the page before me, Raine and a ‘Grim Cole’ have been signed in and out of this shithole.
“What the fuck is going on here?” I whisper, but she’s already halfway down the hall. I stalk along behind her, ignoring the reproving glances of the orderlies and other residents of this retirement home.
Raine comes to a stop in front of an open door. Inside, a man with wasted limbs and a gaunt face lays on the bed. He has an oxygen tube under his nose and he shakes his head when a female nurse tries to offer him some mushy baby shit on a spoon. I don’t blame the poor bastard. Get him a fucking Big Mac and then he might eat. He glances our way and his whole fucking demeanour changes when he sees Raine.
He makes some kind of guttural sound and attempts to point to the woman who’s been cleaning my clubhouse and serving my drinks for the past two years. A woman I apparently don’t even know.
“Hey, Joshy,” Raine says as she enters the room. The nurse attempting to feed him moves out the way and Raine leans in to give Joshy a gentle hug. Her blonde hair falls in a silken curtain around her, and the smile on her face is part joy, part anguish. “Hi. How are you feeling today?”
She pushes the hair out of his eyes and rests the back of her hand against his forehead, as if checking for a temperature.
“He’s doing great now. Aren’t you, Joshua?” the nurse says, smiling at her resident.
Another gruff sound slips from his throat and he attempts to put up his thumb. He winces as if the effort caused him pain. Raine laughs and eases his hand back on the bed, resting it by his side.
The nurse turns to Raine and lowers her voice, “His breathing is still a little concerning with the pneumonia, but the doctor assures me he’s on the mend and should be back to his old self soon enough.” Raine’s face falls, and the nurse gives her a sympathetic smile. “I mean ... his usual self.”
“It’s okay.”
I clear my throat, feeling like I don’t belong. I don’t know what the hell this is about, but I shouldn’t be here. Joshua’s stare finally lands on me, as if he’s only just registered my presence.
“Josh, I want you to meet a friend of mine. This is Jett.” Raine smiles at me, but her eyes are filled with unshed tears. I want to go to her, but I can’t. My feet are glued to the fucking floor like a pussy. “Well, don’t just stand there, Prez. Come say hello to my husband.” She barely gets the last word out before the tears slide over her cheeks.
“Husband?”
“I’m gonna give you guys a minute,” the nurse says, looking cautiously between Raine and me.
“Thanks, Celia. I’ll see if I can’t get him to eat something.” Raine sits in the seat the woman just vacated and takes the spoon from the bowl of mashed baby-shit.
Joshy raises a shaking hand and points a finger at me.
“Sit down,” Raine commands with an unfriendly glance in my direction. “You’re making him nervous.”
“Sorry.” I shuffle into the room and take a seat on the opposite side of the bed from Raine. “I didn’t know.”
“I know. I wanted it that way.” She doesn’t look at me as she says this. Instead, she lifts the spoon to his lips. He closes his mouth and moves his head in a jerky drawn-out gesture. “You need to keep your strength up, Joshy. Please? For me?” She smiles at him and I see in that look how tired she is. How fucking done she is. He opens his mouth, and she grins. “Good.”
“You wanted it what way? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that I wasn’t sure who I was working for. Josh is the only family I have. I needed to make sure he was protected.”
“From me?”
She nods. “And your club.”
“So Grim was trustworthy, but not me?”
“Grim found out the morning after I was almost shot.”
Josh makes another sound and Raine shakes her head. “Not shot. I had some trouble at work, but Grim fixed it. You remember Grim, right, Joshy?”
His head bobs in what I imagine is a nod. Raine picks up more of the pureed slush and spoons it into his mouth. He swallows, but half of the contents end up on his chin along with a shitload of drool. She grabs the edge of the bib around his neck and wipes his face clean—the way a mother would.
It’s fucking heartbreaking.
I don’t know how to watch this shit, and I want to stand and leave, but everything in her gaze dares me to do just that, and I can’t. I’ve already given her enough reason to believe I’m not worthy of her. Sitting here with her crippled husband who she provides for and protects makes me know I’m not worthy. She’s a fucking warrior, and I’m a pathetic piece-of-shit biker who’s treated her no better than one of my club whores.
“Stop watching me like that,” she says, spooning more food into her husband’s mouth.
“Like what?”
“Like you pity me.”
“I’m not lookin’ at you like that, darlin’. I’m thinkin’ you might just be the strongest woman I ever met. Definitely stronger than any one of my club brothers.”
“Now I know you’re lying.”
“I ain’t lyin’. I’m a lot of things, but I ain’t ever been a liar.”
“I don’t think of myself as strong. I just do what I have to do.”
“Yeah, I see that.”
We spend another half hour with her husband and for the most part, I put on a brave face, but inside I’m fucking fuming. I’m furious at the universe for creating someone as incredible as Raine, and giving her nothing but shit to wade through her whole life.
When we leave, she kisses him goodbye as if she were kissing him goodnight—a sweet peck to the forehead. “I’ll see you soon.”
He groans and raises his hand off the bed, patting her hand with his. She looks down at their hands and smiles, but the pain in her bright blue eyes is obvious. When we leave the nursing home, she hurries out the front door and throws her head back, tilting her face up to the afternoon sun. Her lids are closed, and tears leak from the corners of her eyes. “I just, I need a minute.”
“You and me both.”
She takes a deep breath and exhales in a rush. She said she needed space, but I can’t give it to her, not right now. I grab her arm and turn her to face me. Then I squeeze her so tight I don’t know how her ribs don’t break. She melts into me, quietly sobbing against my chest.
“I’m sorry.”
“You got nothin’ to be sorry about, babe.”
“I’ve ruined your shirt.”
“I have more.”
“Now you see why we can’t ever be.” Her words are muffled against my cut, but I hear them clear as a fucking bell. “Why I ran from your room after Mia died.”
“You mean after I forced you to make me come?”
“You didn’t—I should have stopped you, but I didn’t want to.”
I grasp the back of her head and exhale. “I was out of my mind, Raine. I wanted to touch you, to fuck you. Hell, I ain’t gonna lie. I still do want all those things, babe, but I never should have taken it that far—not then, and maybe not now.”
“I love my husband.”
“I know. You don’t have to convince me of that. I could see it clear as day, and I get why you’d want to keep it from me and the club. You had to take care of him. But who’s taking care of you?”
She pulls away a little and stares up at my face. “I am.”
“Come on. I’m gonna take you to dinner before I drive you home.”
“That would be nice.”
I lead her
over to my bike and hand her the helmet Grim had given her. She slips it on, and I help to buckle the straps beneath her chin. I’m not taking any risks with her safety. I climb on the bike and rev the engine. My heart gives a little lurch when she slides on behind me and wraps her arm around my waist, because I could get used to this. I wouldn’t just go to ground for this woman, I’d hand over my fucking gavel for her too. I’d walk away from the club I built from the ground up for just one shot at forever with her.
RAINE
JETT PARKS IN FRONT of my new apartment building and I slide off the bike and stumble. He reaches out and grabs my good arm, saving me from toppling. Yeesh. I’m such a lightweight. I only had two wines with dinner.
“Careful there, kitten.”
“Kitten?” I giggle. “I am not a kitten.”
“No, you’re more of an angel.”
“Says the man who beat up my old employer, gave me a job, and let me move into his big fancy apartment.”
He shrugs and flips the kickstand down before climbing off the bike. He slips his hand in mine, his big palm warm as it engulfs my own. I stare down at our joined hands and try to ignore the butterflies in my belly as we walk toward the building’s main entrance.
“Well, the place was just sitting here empty.”
“That doesn’t make you any less my guardian angel.” I extricate my hand from his as I fish in my purse for my keys. The second I locate them, Jett takes them from me—and thank God, because I did not relish the idea of making an even bigger fool of myself. Stumbling off a motorbike is one thing, but being so incapacitated that I can’t even get the door open? He’d never let me live it down.
He unlocks the door and opens it, gesturing for me to go first. We get in the elevator, and the doors are just about to close when the little old lady in the apartment beside mine slides her cane between them and halts our progress.
Earlier, she and her English Bulldog, Winston, brought a plate of cookies over as the boys were moving boxes. I didn’t even have time to set them on the kitchen counter before they were devoured.
“Hello, dear,” she says.
“Hello, Mrs Robinson. How is Winston doing?”
JETT (Savage Saints MC Book 3) Page 10