Chapter Two
“Oh, for shits and giggles,” I muttered, tossing the TV remote onto the breakfast tray, eying the gray oatmeal and mushy strawberries.
I was starving.
Since Cain’s little drop in, I hadn’t moved from the bed. My nurses instructed me not to walk until the doctor came in…whenever that would be. I couldn’t call anyone, because my phone was destroyed in the crash. For the last few hours, I’d tried my hardest to remember what happened, but everything was fuzzy. I remember the explosion, but I didn’t know what caused it. I remembered the blazing heat of the flames. I remembered getting out of the seat harness and dropping down onto the roof of the upside-down car.
Wasn’t it?
A loud laugh that came from the hallway drew me back into the now, and I focused on the breakfast a nurse had brought in for me about twenty minutes ago. Patients didn’t get a choice; they were given the food that was on the menu.
Which sucked. I mean really, really fucking sucked.
I needed to eat something, and staring at the possibly disgusting food wasn’t going to get me anywhere. Taking a deep breath, I picked up the cheap plastic spoon and scooped up some of the mush. I cringed on the inside, my tongue revolting at the idea of something this…slimy touching it. My stomach growled, not caring about my sensory issues.
“For shits and giggles,” I repeated, opening my mouth and shoving the food inside. Pulling the spoon out, I tried not to gag as it landed on my tongue, chewing and breaking up the oatmeal as quickly as I could before swallowing. With greedy hands, I reached for the huge cup of ice water and sucked down three big gulps, cleansing my tongue.
I repeated this process until the bowl was nearly empty and the pain in my stomach diminished. When I was done, I pushed the tray away, refusing to look at what I’d just consumed, and focused on downing the rest of the ice water as my eyes focused on the small TV on the wall across from me.
Soap operas.
“A girl like me could use more drama in her life,” I mumbled, leaning back against the uncomfortable pillows. After a few minutes of watching two women argue over the male lead, I looked to the cracked door.
Cain hadn’t returned after I threw his command back in his face. I expected him to fight back, but he only glared, leaving a few seconds later. That was over four hours ago. Sighing I looked back to the TV, wondering when the doctor was going to get here.
I wanted to get back to the loft.
During my short time here, I’d grown comfortable in that loft above Sullie’s bar. It was just what I needed: large windows, a nice kitchen, a walk-in shower, and a bed. I loved it, and Sullie, despite his huge, threatening exterior, was a really kind man. He checked on me daily, asked me to join him and everyone for dinner on Sundays, and even brought me breakfast on occasion. He reminded me of my dad, always the caretaker. My eyes dropped away from the TV to the rough blankets covering me, and I picked at the stringing sticking out from the edge.
I pulled on it, unraveling a section, the image reminding me of how my little family had fallen apart over the last few years. My parents were still married, but the love was gone. If I was being completely honest, I think the love died when my father lost his dream job and we moved to Detroit. I think that was something my mother never expected to happen, not in her perfect life. She was born and raised in a wealthy upper-class family, and went to college with the only ambition of finding a husband. My dad attended the same university, coming from the lower middle-class, determined to build a life for himself and his future family as a marketing director.
Dad told me once that the second he laid eyes on Mom, he was a goner. He would do anything to have her. She wanted what her parents had—wealth. He promised to give it to her, and when they got married, they were on the right path. They’d purchased a nice home in the suburbs of Charlotte, North Carolina and then had me. Things were wonderful. We were the picture-perfect family, cut right out of the American Dream.
Then, it all went to shit.
Very, very slowly.
Compared to Cain and his older brother, Xander, my childhood had been bliss.
Still, no one ever talked about how hard it was to watch your parents slowly fall out of love, replacing it with toxicity that they couldn’t hide from you, even if they tried. They did, but the house Dad moved us into was old, with thin walls…and windows. At night, when I tried to sleep, I heard every foul word they tossed to each other. My mom’s words were far more cruel than my father’s. When the fights began, he would just apologize and take the verbal beating. Then, somewhere along the way, he got tired of taking it. So, he gave it right back to her.
Every. Single. Night.
On the outside, we looked happy, and they loved me—that never changed. Though, looking back on it, I’m pretty certain that in some cases, my mom resented me and the bond that Dad and I shared. I didn’t realize or care what social class we were in, I had a home, food, and two parents who loved me.
What more did a kid need?
A knock at the door jolted me out of my memories, and my head snapped up as I released the string I’d been yanking. Standing in the doorway was a young female doctor with a beautiful lilac hijab covering her head. She smiled at me, her beauty like a breath of fresh air.
“Good morning, Ms. Wells,” she greeted, closing the door.
“Good morning,” I replied, giving her a smile, ignoring the pain around my temple.
“I’m Dr. Raza. I’ll be going over your injuries with you today.”
My eyes immediately went to my right foot; I’d been too chicken to lift the damn blanket and feel what was on my ankle. Swallowing, I asked the tough question, “How bad is it?”
Dr. Raza had been looking at my chart in her hands, her eyes scanning over everything. She looked up at me, and the expression she wore made my stomach twist. “I’m going to be honest with you, Ms. Wells. Based on the information I was given, you’re very lucky to be here.”
Nodding, I agreed with her. I should’ve died last night, but I didn’t.
“Your injuries are minor, given the circumstances. The laceration on your right temple, four cracked ribs.” She moved, walking to the foot of my hospital bed, and gently lifted the blanket from my ankle.
A soft breath left me as tears stung my eyes.
It wasn’t in a cast. It was just wrapped. “You’ve sprained your ankle in three places,” she told me, setting the chart down on the bed. Her hands went to my foot, lifting it slightly. “Does that hurt?”
“No.”
She twisted it outwards and inwards. I winced, hissing. That hurt. Her eyes met mine. “I’m going to have you keep your weight off it for at least a week. There’s nothing that can be done about a sprain, except letting your body heal. So keep your weight off it, elevate it, and keep it wrapped. Okay?”
I nodded again, a wave of gratitude crashing into me. I looked to the ceiling, silently thanking the Big Man upstairs. When I looked back to her, she was picking up her chart again, moving up to my right side. She set the chart on top of my breakfast tray, her eyes going to my heart monitor. “Do you have any questions for me?”
Oh yeah.
“Could you tell me what happened?” I asked, but when she looked at me, I couldn’t hold her eyes. I looked down, my fingers messing with the string again. “It”s just a little fuzzy for me.”
“Ms. Wells, the accident you were in was serious,” she told me, her tone firm. “The vehicle you were driving in exploded from underneath, flipping in the air. According to your chart, the vehicle landed upside down on the pavement.”
Her words triggered the memories. The loud bang, my scream as I held onto the steering wheel as I went airborne. The feeling in my stomach when I was upside down. The sharp pain in my ribs as the car slammed into the pavement, jerking me in the harness. The rest was a blur…
My gut twisted into knots, and I had the sudden urge to throw up. I reached for the water, taking a sip as I looked up at her. “How did I get out of the car?”
She stared at me.
Unease drifted over my shoulders like a cold wind on a winter’s morning. “Was I thrown from it or something?” My voice was shaky, and another memory came forth. Pale hair, its cool color warmed by the glow of the flames.
“Dr. Raza, please. How did it get out of the car?”
Just then, Leon Torrance appeared in the doorway, his frame taking up most of the space. The man was a machine, built for destruction, and yet, he was the kindest out of all the leaders of Oasis. At least to me. The rest of the guys were cool, but Leon was like Sullie, always checking in on me.
“Cain pulled you from the car, Nikki,” he said, his low voice stretching across the room, going straight for that stupid thing inside my chest.
I stopped breathing as I tried to remember, but I couldn’t.
“I helped him,” Leon continued.
Dontell appeared then, coming in the room and walking to the window. “I carried you,” he said, turning and looking at me, leaning his shoulder against the wall.
“It’s good to see you again, Mr. Michaelson,” Dr. Raza greeted. Her eyes went to Leon. “You as well, Mr. Torrance.”
They both nodded to her before Leon asked, “Is she good to go?”
Dr. Raza looked at me as she answered. “Yes. I’ll get the discharge paperwork ready, and she should be out within the hour.”
I muttered a thanks to her.
When she left the room, I eyed both of the street racers. Even before I came to St. Louis, I knew what Oasis was and who ran it. These men were legends in the car and racing community, though Leon more so than Jer and Dontell. My eyes lingered on him, taking in his broad shoulders and thick arms covered by a black Nike hoodie that matched his sweats. He was always dressed like that; I’d never seen him in anything else besides jeans or sweats. Dontell, on the other hand, dressed well. Today, he was in a navy suit with a dark purple tie.
The colors didn’t fool me; he was dangerous. His electric blue Porsche either excited you or put the fear of God in you. There was no in between. I’d heard the stories. He was the numbers guy for Oasis, the negotiator. Jer was the leader of Oasis and the Crew, a street organization created by Sullie years ago. Members of the Crew protected the streets of St. Louis…in their own way. Sullie had contacts all over the country, including some of the cities I’d raced in.
When Jer asked me to join Oasis, it’d been a dream come true.
That dream quickly turned into a nightmare when I saw Cain that night.
Shake it off, Nikki.
“Is everything okay at Oasis?” I asked, getting right down to business. I’d been there less than four months, but Oasis meant something to me. The people, this city…I finally felt like I belonged somewhere for the first time in my adult life.
Both men remained silent, and I looked back and forth between them, but when my eyes landed on Leon, I froze. There was an intensity in his eyes I’d never seen before. He wasn’t looking into my eyes—he was looking at my temple. I hadn’t had a chance to look in the mirror yet, but there wasn’t a single doubt in my mind that I looked like ass.
“Lee,” I called out softly, trying to get him to look at me, not the cut.
He moved then, coming towards the bed, a shadow lingering within the gold of his eyes. I remained frozen as he brought his hand up to my face, his fingers brushing some of my hair back. “I’m so fucking sorry, Nikki,” he murmured, guilt thick in his voice.
I shook my head as he sat on the edge of the bed. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry I totaled your car, Lee.”
He blinked, and then his eyes snapped over to Dontell. My eyes bounced back and forth again, my stomach dropping. I knew what this was. I was the driver. I was responsible. “I’ll work it off,” I whispered.
Lee’s gazed snapped back to mine, his brows furrowing. “What?” he clipped.
I tried not to flinch at the harshness in his voice. “The car. I’ll do whatever you need me to do, you know, to pay it off…” I trailed off, bracing myself for what was about to come out of my stupid mouth next. “I’ll give you mine in exchange.” I continued putting my foot into my mouth as I looked down, grabbing the faithful string again. “I know she isn’t much, but she’s gotten me through a lot. To me, she’s priceless, but I understand—”
“Nikki, what the fuck are you talking about?” Dontell asked, sounding closer than he was before.
I found him standing at the end of the bed, his hands braced on the railing. He looked confused—and pissed off. Avoiding Lee’s eyes, I focused on Dontell’s. “I was the driver,” I deadpanned.
“We know,” they said in unison.
“That means I’m responsible for the damages,” I said slowly, wondering why they were making me spell it out. “I don’t know what happened. Honestly.” I looked back to Leon, the shadows in his eyes now replaced with pity.
“Sweetheart, stop,” Dontell ordered, shaking his head.
“None of this—don’t look away from me—none of this is your fault,” Lee said firmly.
“But—”
“No,” they barked at me.
I pressed my lips together.
Dontell pushed off the bed and raised his arm to me. “Just fucking tell her, Lee.”
“Cain doesn’t want that,” Lee replied, as if I wasn’t there.
Anger sparked inside me. I was tired of that asshole trying to control me. “Cain doesn’t speak for me. Cain doesn’t get to decide what is best for me. I am a grown fucking woman,” I seethed, clenching the blankets in my fists.
“We know—”
I shook my head. “No,” I cut Dontell off. “I don’t know what Cain has told you, but none of it has to do with me being a part of Oasis. Jeremy chose me because he saw something in me, right?” I looked to Lee for confirmation.
He nodded. “I saw it too.”
“When you saw me win that race in Denver, did you know Cain knew me?” I pressed, pointing to my chest.
“No, and neither did Jer.”
“Exactly,” I spat. “You wanted me to be Oasis. Don’t let Cain shut me out.”
They remained quiet, and I felt a small wave a panic began to build inside me. “Please,” I begged. “Don’t let him—”
“He wants you out,” Lee said.
I stilled, my heart freezing mid-beat as all the pain that man had caused me came rushing back.
Dontell folded his arms over his chest. “Cain told us he wants you out of St. Louis.”
I shook my head, a spark of panic lighting inside me.
I wasn’t leaving.
This was my home.
I raised my chin. “No.”
Lee shocked the shit out of me by smirking. “You aren’t going anywhere, Nikki.”
“Cain is just going to get over it,” Dontell promised. “Or he’ll learn to fucking live with it.”
I sagged back into the pillow, grateful that part of the conversation was over. “So what happened to the car?”
The men looked at each other for some time, communicating silently. After a few moments, they looked at me, and my world was flipped upside down once more.
“The Bratva planted C-4 under it,” Leon stated.