Chapter 13 – Betsy #2
I nod. “Yeah,” I breathe as the nausea wears off. Nyx helps me to sit up, and Clare helps put a sling on me.
“You need to keep this on for a couple of weeks,” she instructs.
“I can’t,” I counter. “I need to ride.” I’ve never gone more than a couple of days without riding. The thought of going a couple of weeks sounds like torture.
Clare sighs. “Okay, can you at least go a week?” she counters.
I raise my brow. “No,” I answer honestly.
“Fine, five days,” she offers.
I open my mouth to protest, but Mor interrupts. “She will stay at her house well rested for five days,” Mor agrees on my behalf.
I glare at her. There is no way she would last that long without riding, and now she expects me to do just that. “Fine,” I grind out, “but I’m riding home tonight.”
Clare sighs and hands me a bottle of pills. “Fine, but you’ll need these for the pain when you get home. Take two before bed.”
Nyx helps me to my feet as I grit my teeth in pain; it's not just my shoulder hurting now as the adrenaline starts to wear off. “You can’t ride home,” Mor states.
“I can, and I will take it slow, and you can have a lap dog follow me just to make sure,” I remind her.
Her mouth sets to a grim line, not impressed by it, but she doesn’t continue to argue with me, as she knows I won’t back down. Nyx walks over with my helmet and holds it out for me, and I arch my brow at him.
“Dude, firstly, I ain’t going anywhere until I know Eden is awake and fine, and secondly, I can’t put it on with one hand,” I state.
Nyx opens his mouth to answer, but a groggy feminine voice interrupts. “What are you waiting for? I’m fucking fine.” We all turn towards Eden, watching as she pushes herself up into a sitting position. Mor and I rush over to her and help her sit up as best we can.
“Jesus, you scared the shit out of us,” I choke, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
“You know me, I love being dramatic,” she says, wincing, pressing her hand to her head.
“Well, I would like you to slow down on the drama. You know, just a little,” Mor jokes, holding her other hand.
Clare comes over and shines a light in her eyes.
Eden grumbles and complains, making Mor and me smile with relief that she’s okay.
I hang around for a little longer, for my own peace of mind that Eden is okay before I set off.
Josh is following behind me in the van. I can tell he wanted to stay with Eden, but duty calls.
As soon as I’m back home, I will order him to go back and be with her.
He cares for her a lot, and it gives me a little reassurance that he’s there with her.
Riding was painful. Each turn put a strain on my shoulder.
Turning down my street, I sigh with relief, but when I turn a little too quickly onto my drive, it causes my bike to wobble beneath me.
However, there is nothing I can do, and the bike and I go over.
The back wheel skids out, and I hit the ground hard as my bike crashes to the ground.
I groan and roll onto my back, clutching my arm to my chest.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I hiss in pain, squeezing my eyes shut. I hear the pounding of footsteps approach. “I’m okay, just turned too sharply. Just give me a second.” I wince, opening my eyes to see Archer crouched over me, his eyes trailing all over me with concern. “Oh, hey.” I grimace.
Josh comes running over. “Shit, are you okay, Betsy?” he asks, his voice full of concern.
“Why the fuck did you let her fall?!” Archer fumes.
“Fuck, I didn’t. She shouldn’t even be riding. They told her not to,” Josh rambles.
I glare at Josh to shut the fuck up, not wanting Archer to know our business. He takes the hint and closes his mouth before he can spill anything else.
“Help me up,” I grit out. Archer places his hands under my arms and tries to help me up.
“Ahhh, no. Not there,” I wail in pain. He freezes.
“I had an accident before and hurt my shoulder,” I elaborate.
He moves his hands down to my waist and helps me to sit up.
“It’s okay, Josh. Go back to the, er, club and stay with Eden.
She needs you more than I do right now,” I order him.
He shakes his head. “My orders are to keep watch over you and make sure you’re safe,” he argues.
I shake my head. “It’s a direct order. Go back and take care of Eden. I will be fine. If they have a problem with it, then tell them to call me,” I counter. I can see the war going on in his mind of what to do.
“I will stay with her,” Archer says from behind me, and it’s only then that I realise his hands are still on my waist. I shift forward, forcing him to drop his hands as I attempt to get to my feet.
I barely huff and suck in a sharp breath at the pain that radiates through my body.
It feels like every part of me is bruised.
Archer’s hands return to my waist, and he lifts me to my feet in one swift motion, steadying me as I wobble slightly.
I clear my throat. “Go,” I order Josh. He looks from me to Archer before giving a brief nod and jogging towards the van. I stand there with Archer until Josh has gone, and as I turn to face him, his eyes are fixated on me. “Okay, you can go now,” I tell him.
“I’m not going anywhere. Clearly whatever you’re involved with is fucking dangerous,” he says sternly.
I bite down on my bottom lip. He’s right, it is, but he isn’t part of the club. “I’m home, and I am fine. I can take care of myself,” I state adamantly. I can’t handle having him in my house again. I just want to go to bed and sleep and maybe have a really hot shower.
“I’m staying with you,” he argues.
“Absolutely not,” I counter, while trying to keep upright. My body is in pain, and I just want to crumble to the floor.
His eyes burn through mine as he bites down on his bottom lip, his jaw tensing at the action.
“Go inside. I will keep watch from here,” he relents.
I can’t help my shocked expression. I was expecting more of a fight, and if he had continued to fight me on it, then I probably would have caved, but I’m not about to tell him that.
“Let me help you inside with your bike,” he states.
I glance down at my bike and sigh. I can’t lift it, not even if I was feeling okay.
“Thanks,” I say softly. He bends down and lifts my bike up, the muscles in his arms tensing with the weight of it.
I slowly hobble to my garage and press the button on my fob to open the door as Archer wheels the bike in.
Once inside, he kicks out the stand. We stare at each other for a moment.
“Erm, I’m just going to go straight to bed, and um, thank you for the offer,” I mutter awkwardly.
“Go rest.” He nods his head in the direction of the door.
I give him a small smile and wince with each step I take, giving him a slight wave before I close the door behind me.
Exhaling a slow breath of pain, not having the energy to make it up the stairs, I shuffle to the couch.
I place the bottle of tablets on the coffee table before I head to the fridge for a bottle of water.
After ripping the cap off, I glug back half the bottle, my throat dry and sore from the smoke earlier.
I then sit on the couch and knock back two of the pain meds Clare told me to take.
I slowly and with difficulty manage to get out of my leathers, leaving me in just my bra and panties, sighing at the feel of air around my skin.
I notice bruising already coming up on my legs and hip.
Not bothering with the throw, I lie down, enjoying the coolness across my skin, and close my eyes, waiting for sleep to take me.
With the medication that Clare gave me, it doesn’t take long.
My eyelids become heavy as my body relaxes and the pain eases.
I hear movement, and slowly I blink my eyes open to see my curtains drawn, the sunlight piercing through the cracks. I go to sit up, but instantly my body protests at the action.
“Mother fucker,” I wince. I push my body to do it again, gritting my teeth in pain as I do.
My throw pools at my waist, and I frown, guessing I must have grabbed it in the night.
I push myself to my feet and make my way through the kitchen to put on the pot of fresh coffee, but as I get closer, the smell of fresh coffee invades my senses.
I frown as I spot Archer with an apron on cooking.
“What the fuck?” I screech. His head snaps in my direction, his green eyes turning molten as they swoop over me.
“What the hell are you doing in my house?!” I rant.
“I told you I would watch over you,” he states casually, like it’s normal that he’s stood in my kitchen with my apron on cooking eggs.
“Yeah, from your house, not here. You can’t just let yourself in. It’s fucking creepy.”
“Go get showered and dressed. Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes,” he orders.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” I counter.
“Go shower and get dressed,” he repeats, his eyes fixed on my chest.
I look down and realise that I’m standing in my underwear. “Fuck!” I screech, spinning on my heel and making my way up the stairs as quickly as my body will allow me. I run into my room and slam the door shut behind me.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! I mentally chastise myself.
I open my draw and chuck on the first thing I can lay my hands on, then grab a pair of shorts and put them on as quickly as I can with one hand.
I head back downstairs, pausing to take a deep breath before entering the kitchen.
I clear my throat at the kitchen entrance to get Archer’s attention, and as his gaze collides with mine, those damn green eyes swirl like a vortex and suck me in, just like they do every damn time.
His lips twitch with amusement. “You want a hand?” He nods in the direction of my T-shirt.