Jewell (Biker Bitches 7) - Page 53

“—there but for the grace of God, go I.”

The woman quoting the proverb had Jewell looking at her questioningly.

“My ma told me that proverb when she reminded me that one of my neighbors had lost all five of her children in a fire. Someone else is always dealing with something harder than you.”

Jewell felt as if she was being gutted. “I lost my child because of my stupidity, and because I wasn’t strong enough to fight for him.”

“I know that’s not true.”

“It is. I was stupid to get pregnant in high school when the father didn’t want anything to do with me or the baby. I decided to raise him on my own, despite my parents telling me I wasn’t ready to be a mother and wanted me to give Michael up for adoption. I wouldn’t listen to any of their pleas, and they kicked me out.

“Reaper found me, and he and Viper convinced me to move in with Ton. I finished high school, worked, and went to college part-time. Another single mother agreed to share the babysitting duties.

“The day I was finishing my clinicals, my two younger brothers were visiting me and offered to keep Michael for me. I let them. An hour before I clocked out, I called and told them it was sleeting and not to come and get me, that I would take the bus home. They didn’t listen. I was so angry at them when I came out the door and saw them, but I was even angrier at myself. I knew the sleet had been forecasted, but I wanted to say goodbye to the children on my floor.”

Mag raised her head. “You were going to be a nurse?”

“A pediatric nurse.” Jewell nodded. “When I came out, Brandon and Trevor couldn’t wait to brag about how they had made it safe and sound. I wanted to be the one to drive home, but Michael was begging for me to sit in the back seat with him. I gave in to him. Brandon was two years younger than me. I had more experience on snowy roads, but I let him drive …”

Slow tears poured out of the corner of her eyes as she continued describing the last day of true happiness for her and how it had ended in such devasting tragedy. “We were only a block away from my apartment when a truck, going too fast for the road conditions, broadsided my car. The car was split in two. The front part, where Brandon and Trevor were, caught on fire. I later learned they had been killed instantly … before the fire started. Where I was, I could see Michael was badly hurt. People were trying to get me out. I was covered in blood. I wouldn’t let them touch me until they got Michael out. Once they did, they had to use the Jaws of Life to get me out. By then, Michael had been life-flighted out, and I was taken to the hospital in an ambulance.

“When I got there, they wouldn’t tell me anything until they checked me out. All I had was a bump, a concussion, and needed six stitches.” Jewell’s fingers unconsciously went to the spot on her scalp where no hair grew. “That’s when a doctor came in to tell me about Michael. They were still running tests. What tests they had taken so far showed that he had received a traumatic brain injury. I made them release me so I could be with Michael.

“The next day, his doctor told me that my baby was brain dead. I wouldn’t listen to anything else they said and refused to let them take Michael off the machine that was keeping him alive. I never left his side, other than to go to the morgue when my parents came to the hospital to claim my brothers’ bodies. They refused to even speak to me. They blamed me. Told me if I had stayed home, like I was supposed to do, then nothing would have happened, and their sons would still be alive. My parents didn’t even ask to see Michael before they left.

“For a month, I refused to let them turn off Michael’s machine. It was when one of my patients’ mothers came to see me that I agreed. She came to ask me to give her son Michael’s heart.”

“The fucking bitch. She shouldn’t have been allowed to see you,” Mag snorted.

“She was fighting for her son’s life.” Jewell’s face twisted in grief as she tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to overwhelm her. “As soon as Michael was wheeled into the operating room, I regretted my decision. What if Michael was one of those patients who came out of a coma after years … I should have waited … I didn’t fight for him like Tristan’s mother had. I should never had … I saved Tristan and Ema, but I couldn’t save my own child. What kind of mother am I?” she asked brokenly, bending over to clutch her stomach as the emptiness within became agonizing.

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