She was perfect. Fucking perfect. And during the maelstrom going on around me, I was just grateful she was there to temper the storm.
She stirred and slowly blinked awake. “I didn’t hear you come in. Are you okay?”
I nodded, and despite my heavy heart, smiled. “I will be.”
“Is Chance okay?”
Christ, I hope so.
“He’s on his way back to the US now. They’re taking him to a naval hospital in Maryland. Mom is flying out tomorrow, but they won’t let anyone else in to see him.”
She sat up and leaned back into the pillow, looking crumpled and sleepy. And adorable. She reached for my hand and pulled it into hers. “How bad are his injuries?”
“He suffered some burns and shrapnel injuries. We’ll know more tomorrow once Mom has been to see him. But he’s alive and we have to hold onto that thought.”
Fuck.
Now I felt like fucking crying.
Feeling emotional, I rubbed my eyes.
Honey squeezed my hand. “You look tired.”
“I’m fucking exhausted.”
She glanced out the window. It was still dark out, but in an hour it would be light. “You should try and get some sleep.”
She was right, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep. There was too much going on in my head. “I don’t think I can.”
She ran a tender hand up my back and I closed my eyes at the comfort funneling through me. It was like the anniversary of my father’s murder when she’d come to the clubhouse and soothed me into a deep and peaceful sleep.
“Just lie down for a bit,” she whispered, gently coaxing me down onto the bed. She wrapped her arms around me, and I got lost in the warmth of her holding me against her body. I got lost in the happiness of feeling her round belly pressing into my back and in the comfort of her soft breaths against the back of my neck. Before I realized it, sleep overcame me and the agony of my brother’s tragedy was momentarily lost in a heavy and dreamless slumber.
CALEB
I awoke with a start several hours later. Looking at the clock, I was surprised to see it was almost lunchtime. Next to me, Honey was still sound asleep, on her back with her arm limp over her swollen belly.
Careful not to wake her, I slipped from her bed and went to the bathroom for a shower. The noise was back in my head, and the fear and anxiety of my brother’s injuries flooded every cell in my body. I needed an escape and knew the perfect place.
After a shower, I packed an overnight bag, and after leaving Honey a note, left our apartment and took off on my bike. I dropped into my mom’s to check if there was any more news about Chance. He was still en route to the US and there had been no change in his condition. However, one of the other two survivors had passed away from his injuries. The news was gut wrenching. Another family was going to receive the news we were praying we never heard. It was also a sober reminder that Chance was still critically wounded, and until he was home on US soil and given the necessary time his body needed to heal, he wasn’t out of the woods.
Cade and Indy arrived and Indy filled us in on some of the realities of burn injuries. He might have survived the initial injuries, but infection was a real concern. He would have to recuperate in a sterile hospital room and the recovery would be long and often painful.
“We’ll bring him home,” Mom said, barely holding back her tears. “And we will look after him.”
When she said we, she meant the whole club.
Indy slid her hand over hers. “It will be a while before he is released. I want you to be prepared for it. What it is. What it means. How he looks. It’s going to be difficult.”
Mom looked at her through her unshed tears, her eyes as bright as sapphires.
“Baby girl, my whole life was built on difficult. Why the hell would this be any different?”
There was nothing left to do but wait.
But I needed to get away. I needed to stop the noise in my head. Mom was fine, soothed by some of Sybil’s stash and a shot of Patrón. It was time to head out to my granddaddy’s cabin for the night and spend some quiet time on the porch overlooking the water. I climbed on my bike and took my time riding through the golden light of the afternoon, arriving at the cabin just as the sun began to set.
Inside, I dumped my overnight bag by the bedroom door but didn’t switch on the light. Dusky light from a dying sun streamed in through the kitchen window, breaking the shadows in the room.