Chapter 9
CHAPTER
NINE
ATOMIC
After gathering her shit, I stand beside the wheelchair as Ryan signs paperwork. There is a nurse standing behind her, and after the last document is signed, we begin to make our way out of the room.
Rose and Adam are waiting downstairs with a car, and I am on high fucking alert for that motherfucker pimp or her cunt of a sister. When we’re finally down in the front of the hospital, the doors automatically slide open, and I see the car waiting for us.
I get Ryan in the car, then hand her the prescriptions. “You’re going to get the meds and go straight home?” I ask, my gaze flicking from Ryan to Rose.
Rose gives me a grin and nods once. “That’s the plan.”
“Okay, I’ll meet you there.”
Closing the door, I watch as the car begins to roll out of the parking lot with Rim giving me a two-fingered wave as he brings up the rear. He sticks close behind them while I head for Ryan’s house.
I grab the food I ordered for pickup from a local burger place, then make my way toward her house and park in my newly claimed spot in her driveway. I am not going to get too comfortable here, considering we won’t stay long.
Throwing my leg over the bike, I carry the food down her walkway and slip into her house. Rim kept the door unlocked for me. The place is quiet, as it should be. There are sheets on the sofa where Rim has been sleeping during the day, but everything else seems undisturbed.
We’ve cleaned up what we can, thrown a lot of broken shit away, and I hope Ryan is ready because I’m ready for her to leave it all behind.
I’m still angry with her for the way she walked away from me, the sting of the betrayal in no way having left, but I can’t fight with her when she’s this weak.
I can’t angry-fuck her either. I’ll have to wait until she’s strong enough.
Because I plan on being inside of her again.
No way in hell am I letting her walk away from me without at least having her one last time.
A few moments later, the front door opens, and I watch as Rose, Adam, Ryan, and Rim walk inside. The women are chatting, but it’s Adam who is attempting to make his little voice heard by being the loudest of them all.
Smiling, I hold my hand out to show them the food on the counter as they get closer.
Ryan heads straight for the couch, her expression clearly pained as she sinks down with a whimper.
Fuck, she’s feeling the pain now. No longer lying still in a hospital bed, she’s completely worn out just from the short trip to the pharmacy on her way home.
“You need some water for your pain meds, legs?” I call out.
“I hate taking those things,” she grumbles.
I open the fridge, reach inside, and take out a bottle of water. Twisting the lid off, I carry it over to her and sit down beside her. Rose hands me a white bag before she moves toward the kitchen with Adam and Rim right behind her, the two of them completely focused on food.
“Ryan, it doesn’t make you brave to sit around in pain,” I scold.
Tears well up in her eyes. She holds out her hand, and I slip a pill in her palm. I watch as she takes it, but I can tell she doesn’t want to. Instead of letting it go, I ask her why she’s so upset about these pain meds.
Her eyes lift to mine, tears streaming down her swollen, bruised cheeks before she speaks. “I don’t want to become an addict.”
Fuck.
I hadn’t even thought about that. I cup her cheek as gently as possible, hopefully not hurting her bruising. Lowering my head, I rest my forehead against hers as softly as I can. I know her, though. For five years, she was mine every fucking day, and I know she needs physical reassurance right now.
“You’re not your sister. You’re not your parents,” I rasp. “You’re Ryan, and you are not going to become an addict.”
“How do you know that?”
Laughing, I search her gaze with mine. “Babe, known you since you were eighteen years old. I know you’re not into that shit. You’re above it all, above them. Above that. You’re aware, and that makes you smarter than the whole fucking bunch.”
Her eyelids grow heavy, and I help her lie down on the couch. “I’m not that perfect,” she sighs. “I’ve lied a lot, and I don’t know if I’m necessarily smarter. I think I’m one bad decision away from being Ellen.”
“No, legs. I think you’d need to make a lifetime of bad decisions to be anywhere near your sister.”
She falls asleep almost instantly as if she can’t keep her eyes open no matter how hard she tries. I leave her there to rest, knowing she needs it before I turn toward the kitchen.
“Well,” I say, my eyes finding Rose’s. “You coming with us?”
Her lips part in awe, and she lets out a laugh, shaking her head a couple of times. “I’m too old for that. I’ve lived in this house, in this neighborhood, since these houses were built. Nobody is running me out of here. This is my home.”
“Are you sure?” I ask. “You’re important to Ryan, which makes you important to me. I want to make sure you’re safe. I could leave Rim here to watch after you until we get this asshole under control.”
She hums, but I can tell she’s a proud woman. She is comfortable here and doesn’t want change. I don’t know where I would put her, either. She definitely couldn’t sleep at the clubhouse, but then again, neither can Adam.
I haven’t thought this through. I could put them at my cabin, but they would be too far away from me or anyone else to protect.
I need to get them a place in Pineville, close enough and yet far enough away that Adam won’t see anything that happens down there.
I don’t think he’s old enough for that education yet.
While everyone except Ryan eats, I send King a text and ask him to look for a rental for two adults and a kid.
KING: A KID?
ABOUT FIVE.
KING: THE FUCK???
RYAN’S.
When my phone rings seconds later, I almost laugh. I would be calling him, too, if he’d sent me a message like that. Sliding my thumb across the screen of the phone, I move through the small house and into a bedroom, closing the door behind me before I say anything.
“Hey.”
“What the fuck?”
His words come out clipped and quick. “She can’t stay here. That guy beat the absolute shit out of her. No way can I leave her and her kid here. He’ll kill them next time.”
There is a moment of silence, then he clears his throat, and his voice deepens. He lets out a hushed hiss as he speaks.
“Not bringing her here. I knew you would do that shit. A kid? A kid that’s five. Think about that. Connect the fucking dots, brother.”
I know what he’s implying. I thought about it, too, but no way could it be true…
could it? I mean, she said it herself, that there hadn’t been anyone else.
But she could have just been saying that so she didn’t look like a slut or something.
Fuck if I know. It could be a Nomad King’s kid. She did leave with them.
RYAN
My body is lifted, and I let out a heavy sigh as the pain consumes me from being jostled, but then I feel someone laying me down on feathers. My bed. I don’t have much in the way of furniture, but I did make sure that Adam and I had decent mattresses.
A warm hand cups my cheek, and I let out a sigh, opening my eyes as I look up dreamily at the man leaning over me. He doesn’t say anything right away, his gaze searching my own before he speaks.
“You’re coming home with me, but before you do that, wanna tell me who that kid belongs to?”
My breath hitches. I was expecting this question. Just maybe not yet. I thought it would happen when Adam did or said something that would make it undeniable. But I wasn’t anticipating it right now.
“Why?” I ask.
He smirks. “If he’s a Nomad King’s kid, I killed them all. But time line, legs, is he mine?”
I close my eyes, causing a tear to roll down my cheek.
I suck in a breath and hold it for a moment before I let it out slowly and open my eyes to focus on him.
I’m not sure how I am going to answer this.
I’ve thought about this moment a million times, but never was I in the predicament I am facing now when I did.
He arches a brow, his expression expectant as he waits for my answer.
I should lie.
I’ve gone this long without either of them knowing, so what’s another fifty, sixty years? I’m not sure I can confess to him who Adam belongs to. That he’s his. Not yet. This is a secret too big to unleash right now.
I’m selfish and cruel. I know I am, but I just can’t seem to do it.
“He’s not yours,” I whisper. It physically pains me to lie to him like this. I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t. I feel guilty and sick about it all. I hate myself.
He stands abruptly, then turns his back to me. I watch as he lifts his hand, sliding his fingers through his hair, tugging on the ends. Slowly, he turns to face me, and the anger that I expected is right there bubbling to the surface. I watch it consume him.
Holding my breath for a moment, I expect him to take that anger out on me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes a step backward.
“So, you lied when you said there was nobody else?” His voice is barely above a whisper.
“I’d seen you with that clubwhore. My sister was in trouble, and I was hurt. I was stupid and young. I ran with her, with them, and I didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late.”
His eyes narrow as he looks at me, watching me in disbelief for a moment, then something clicks inside of his head. “You sayin’ he violated you like that?”
“Manipulated is more like it.” And that is not a lie.
They all manipulated me—my sister, those bikers, all of them. I just didn’t sleep with one at the time I conceived Adam. It was when I was already four months pregnant. And I hated myself for it. I felt like I was cheating on Atomic even though I knew he was out doing what and whoever he wanted.
Atomic turns and walks out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him softly, and as he does, I know I’ve just fucked up, huge. It’s better this way. He should hate me. Half of my cards are on the table. I’m still keeping the biggest secret of all from him, and I can’t seem to tell him the truth.
But truthfully, I believe it’s because I don’t trust him. This is huge. Adam is my son, and while I’m doing something wrong by not telling Atomic, I’m also protecting him and myself. There’s no reason he should ever forgive me for what I’ve done.
What I’ve taken from him.
What I’m not giving him when he’s so clearly giving me the option.
Tears flow as I wear myself out until I eventually pass out again.
I’m not sure how much sleep I get. It isn’t restful, I know that much. When my eyes open, I feel something heavy against my belly. Dipping my chin down carefully, I look at my stomach and find an arm there.
A heavy arm.
A heavily tattooed arm.
Reaching down, I try to take said arm off me, but it tightens around me, gently hauling me against him. I don’t know how he can be asleep and be so damn gentle. He doesn’t hurt me, not even a little, and that’s pretty amazing for someone whose body is one gigantic bruise.
Atomic grunts, then touches his lips to the side of my neck. “Mornin’, legs.”
“Atomic?” I exhale. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m not sleeping on the floor. Couch is taken, and honestly, where you are, I am.”
There is silence for a moment as, again, a tear slides down my cheek. I don’t know how I can cry any more tears. I don’t know how I have any left inside of me. I haven’t eaten. I haven’t had anything to drink. I’m sure I’m dehydrated as hell.
“You don’t hate me?” I ask on a whimper.
“Hate? No. Pissed as fuck? Yes. Do you have years to make up for what you did? Sure.”
“I don’t think I can make up for it, Atomic.” And I’m speaking about the truth and the lie all at once.
He hums, his lips touching my forehead before he speaks, his mouth staying there as he does. “You can, Ryan. You will.”
I’m not sure I want him, that I want this.
But I don’t say that. He is protecting me, protecting our son.
Ours. It feels weird to think of Adam as ours.
I’ve always known that’s who he is, that he is Atomic’s son, but I’ve never allowed myself to truly believe we could share him.
And I’m not really letting him share in this either, am I…
not when I’m keeping the truth from him.
“Grover.”
I don’t understand what he’s said. “What?”
“My name,” he murmurs. “Grover Hughes.”
Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I try not to bite down too hard as I stare at him. “Grover Hughes,” I murmur. “I like it so much. Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
I’m hurt that he didn’t trust me with his name. That he wouldn’t tell me the many times I asked. But what a hypocrite. Because I don’t trust him enough to give him my son now. He wanted me to be his woman, but he didn’t want to give me even that simple part of him. And I want to know why.
But I can’t ask him right now.
Selfishly, stupidly, I’m enjoying this with him. It’s been a long time since I shared a bed with this man—any man, really—and it feels amazing. Comfortable. Perfect.
Absolutely everything.
I knew I missed it, but I didn’t realize that I missed it this much. I feel like the missing pieces of my puzzled heart have been repaired. Too bad it won’t last because once I’m better, I know his anger is going to take over and he’ll never want anything to do with me again.
That guilt grows inside of me, curling and sliding up my throat, threatening to choke me. I should tell him the truth right now. I should tell him about Adam. The festering lie is just going to grow and consume me from the inside out.
But I can’t tell him.
Not yet.