Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Fury
I stare up at the bedroom ceiling, feeling more frustrated than ever. When the door opens and Xanthe walks in, I almost yell at her to leave, but the words don’t seem to come, so instead, I mumble some kind of sound and give up, looking like a complete idiot.
“I bet you’re glad to be home,” she says, but there’s caution to her movements, almost like she expects me to kick her out. When I still say nothing, she picks up the box of medication I’ve been sent home with and places it on the nearby bedside table. “It’s normal to feel tired, and I’m sure being back here is taking it out of you, so feel free to get some rest. I’ll just quietly monitor you.” She can’t be serious thinking she’s sitting here watching me sleep, but she lowers into the recliner.
“No,” I manage, and she sits straighter.
“Sorry?”
“No.”
She pushes to her feet and moves closer. “Erm, no, you don’t want to sleep?” I growl angrily, and she arches a brow. “I don’t understand caveman.” I almost smirk at her smart mouth, and she feels the mood lighten, taking it as a sign to sit on the edge of my bed. “I imagine you’re feeling frustrated,” she says, and I give a nod. “You never had any patience,” she adds with a small smile. “The doctor said not to bombard you with information, that filling your head with memories might set you back and confuse you more.”
I think over her words. It’s the most anyone’s told me so far, and it makes sense, so I force out, “Facts.”
She looks pleased with this and nods. “Yes, I can tell you facts.” She thinks for a minute then says, “Okay, you have serious head trauma from the fight you had. Your brain swelled so much that the doctors had to perform an emergency operation to remove some of your skull just to give it room.” I nod, remembering some of this from the nurse telling me when I woke up. “The swelling went down, but there’s some temporary damage. That’s normal, and hopefully, your memory will return along with your words.” I nod again, still staring at her expectantly. She thinks some more.
“We met again because of a previous fight,” she explains with a laugh, and I find myself smiling too, like her happiness is infectious. “I was on shift, and the nurses were all whispering about a fit biker who showed up in emergency.” She rolls her eyes in amusement. “I could hardly believe it when you walked into my room.” Her eyes lower to where her hands rest in her lap, and she knots her fingers together, something I remember her doing as a teenager when she was upset. I place my hand over hers, and she looks up again, our eyes meeting for the briefest second before she forces an uncomfortable smile and pushes to her feet. She begins fussing with the sheets. “Of course, you insisted we have a coffee after my shift. You were hurt,” she adds in a lower voice. “I didn’t expect that.”
“Hurt?” I repeat.
“You told me my parents were the reason you got sent away.” My heart twists. I’d been angry, mainly with her parents but partly with Xanthe for making me love her in the first place. I never truly got over her, and now, as she stands before me looking upset and vulnerable, I feel that familiar urge to hold her. “I took you to dinner with my mum.” I frown, hating that it’s another thing I don’t remember. “She explained what happened, and you forgave her, I think.”
“Dianna,” I say, and she smiles, nodding.
“Yes. And that’s why she visited you at the hospital. I couldn’t be with you because of the danger, so she went and let me talk to you on the phone whilst you were out of it.”
I close my eyes. I remember dreaming about a woman speaking to me, telling me she loved me. When I open them again, Xanthe is back in the chair. “Fight?” I ask.
She looks hesitant before replying, “Yes, you went to a fight that was organised by Donnie.” When I frown, she says, “You owed him money, and the fight was to cancel the debt.” I don’t like the sound of that, but she continues regardless. “Axel was supposed to come and support you to make sure Donnie didn’t screw you over, but when he got there, he wasn’t allowed in.”
“I . . . I lost.”
“Yes, you lost, which surprised us all. Apparently, you never lose.” I grin, and she rolls her eyes, laughing. “Anyway, I found you out front. You were in a bad way.”
“Here?”
“They must’ve dumped you here for Axel to deal with. I’m pretty sure they hoped you were dead.”
“Why?”
She groans. “Fury, if I tell you everything, it won’t do you any good, and Axel will kick me out of here.”
“Please,” I whisper, and she sighs.
“I was dating Donnie. You didn’t approve and advised me to break up with him. He didn’t take no for an answer and became obsessed. You brought me here to the clubhouse to keep me safe.”
It sounds like something I’d do. After all, I spent a long time loving Xanthe. “And with you owing money, you’d spent some time working for him, so you knew he was looking for me. You were coming up with a plan to keep me safe forever.”
The door opens, and Axel enters with Jo behind him. She’s been crying, and I immediately push to sit up, wincing through the pain in my head. I hold out my hand, and she rushes to me, allowing me to tug her against me. Xanthe stares at the ground while Axel rolls his eyes. “Xanthe, give us a minute, would you?” She doesn’t need asking twice, rushing from the room.
Axel waits for the door to close before glaring at Jo. “Say what you need to. Make it quick.”
Jo wipes her eyes even though there’re no tears. “I terminated the baby,” she announces, not meeting my eyes. I knew that. Fuck knows how. Maybe the fact she isn’t showing and she’s yet to mention it. “Ripper made me.”
Axel steps forward again, and my attention goes to him. “Brother, I don’t wanna set you back, but it’s shit you gotta hear.” I nod, and he looks relieved before motioning to Jo to continue.
“You fought Ripper in the ring,” she mutters. “Donnie contacted him and told him you owed money. Ripper offered to put on a good show.” Donnie. There’s that name again. It proves that so far, Xanthe is the only one who’s been upfront and willing to tell me shit.
“He . . . he found . . .” I sigh impatiently.
“Yes, he found out,” she mutters. “He was angry, beat the crap out of us both,” she says bitterly.
“And you decided to stay with him,” Axel cuts in. “Get to the fucking point.”
“He’s my old man,” she says, her eyes pleading with me to forgive her. And as I look at her, I realise that I feel nothing. I’m relieved she isn’t having my baby, especially if she chose Ripper. I release her hand, and she begins to cry again.
“Jo is going home, back to Nottingham,” Axel tells me.
“Ripper?” I ask.
Axel smirks. “She’s getting the train back . . . alone.”
There’s a knock on the door, and Grizz enters. “You ready?” he asks Jo, and she nods, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on my cheek. “I’m sorry.” A searing pain shoots through my skull, and I growl, gripping my head. I squeeze my eyes closed , and I see her . . . Jo, she’s ringside, begging me to stop. And there beneath me is Ripper, bloodied and battered. My fists are throbbing.
“Fury?” Axel’s voice brings me back to the present, and my eyes shoot open. They’re all staring at me with concern.
Xanthe
It hurts way too much to watch the way he cares for her. How the fuck does he remember that but not us? It makes me question if any of it was real.
I crash into a hard chest, and strong hands steady me. Coop grins. “You lost in thought?”
Tears spring to my eyes, and he immediately holds me, allowing me to sob against his chest. “It’s just temporary,” he soothes. “All of this hurt and upset isn’t forever.”
“What if he never remembers?”
“How could he not?” he asks, sounding amused. “You two were meant for each other.”
“Jo mentioned a tattoo.” I sniffle, wiping my eyes and taking a step back. “She asked to see my tattoo to prove I was Fury’s old lady. What did she mean?”
“It’s standard that when a guy claims his old lady, they each get a tattoo of the other’s name.”
“Oh. Can I get that done?”
He nods. “I guess so. Run it by Axel or Grizz.” He looks around the room. “They’re probably busy,” he mutters. “Take it to Fletch.”
I spot him at the bar, and Coop leads me over. “Hey, brother, the Pres and VP are busy, but Xanthe wants her tattoo.”
Fletch eyes me. “What if he doesn’t remember?”
Coop groans. “Shit, brother, have some tact,” he snaps.
“It’s fine,” I cut in before they can argue. “I want it anyway to prove I’m serious.”
“There’s a chance he’ll make you cover it up if he decides not to pursue things,” says Fletch gently. “Wouldn’t you rather wait until he’s feeling more like himself?”
I shake my head. “I feel so lost and alone right now. I need this to remind me what it’s all for.”
Fletch exhales, shrugging. “Okay. I’ll get Ink to set up.”
We use Axel’s office, and I’m relieved when Lexi and Gemma join me. “Usually, it’s something you and your man do together,” says Lexi, squeezing my hand. “But seeing as he’s not here, we wanted to be here for you.”
I nod. “I’d really like that.” They settle on the couch, and I lie back in Ink’s chair. “What’s yours look like?” I ask, turning my head to the side to look at the girls.
The women exchange an amused look. “I didn’t go traditional,” says Lexi.
“What does that mean?” I ask. “Are there other ways to do this?”
She smirks. “Yes, but nothing you’d choose.”
“I want to see.”
She comes closer and lowers her top to show me the scarring on her chest. I wince, and she laughs. “Told yah.”
“How was that done?”
“Branding iron,” she says simply, and I gasp, horrified she’d do that to herself. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you another time.”
Ink sketches directly on my skin on the inside of my wrist. I smile, nodding in approval when he asks me to check. Then I close my eyes and leave him to get on with it. I think about Fury and everything we’ve been through. Our times together, both past and present, have been full of chaos and drama, and I find myself praying it’s all worth it in the end. Because if I have to walk away after all this, it’ll kill me.
The buzzing of the tattoo gun finally stops, and Ink wipes my skin. “All done,” he announces, and I stare at the intricate lettering.
“I love it,” I say with a smile. Even if I have to walk away, I’ll always have a piece of him with me.
“Xanthe?” yells Grizz from upstairs. I frown, climbing from the chair and heading towards the stairs. “Xanthe, get the fuck up here now,” he shouts, and I note the worry in his tone. I take the stairs two at a time until I’m standing in the doorway with everyone staring at Fury, who is holding his head like he’s in pain.
“What’s happened?” I ask, lingering in the doorway.
“You,” whispers Fury, and his eyes burn into mine. I see that vulnerable boy I once knew and realise he’s asking for me.
“Everyone out,” I say, ignoring my racing heart. Nobody questions me as they file out, leaving us alone. I go over to the curtains and close them, blocking out the daylight. When I turn back to Fury, he looks lost, so I move closer to his bedside. “What do you need?” I ask gently.
This time, when his eyes find mine, there are tears glistening, and it breaks my heart. I don’t speak because it’s not words he needs right now. Instead, I climb onto the bed beside him and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him against me. He doesn’t fight me, instead pressing his nose against the crook of my neck and inhaling deeply.
A few minutes pass before I feel him relax against me and his breathing evens out. It would be easier to slip away and let him rest, but there’s a selfish part of me that needs to feel him this close before he realises that he still doesn’t remember me and pushes me away again. So, I settle for the uncomfortable position, with his calm breaths tickling my neck, and I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.
I stir, groaning as my body aches in protest. My legs have gone dead because I stupidly tucked them under me, and my arm hurts from where it’s tucked around Fury. I open one eye and realise he’s awake. Feeling embarrassed, I try to sit up, only to realise he’s holding my wrist. The one with the tattoo. Fuck. I didn’t plan on letting him see it. At least, not yet.
“Sorry, it was a stupid idea,” I mumble, trying to pull my arm free, but he grips it tighter. “You told Axel?—”
“Mine,” he whispers, running his thumb over the fresh ink.
“I know you probably said it to keep me safe,” I continue, “but you told Chevy to tell Axel that I was yours.”
“Sorry,” he mutters.
I manage to sit up, freeing my arm and holding it protectively against my chest. Is he sorry that he told Chevy that? Or sorry he can’t remember?
I slide from the bed. “You must be getting hungry,” I say in a breezy tone. “I can fix you some food.”
He gives his head a slight shake before muttering, “Toilet.”
“Of course,” I say. He eases himself to the edge of the bed and waits a second before standing. I grip his arm to steady him, and we slowly walk towards the en suite. I wait just outside the door while he does what he needs to do, and then I walk him back to bed. Once he’s sitting down, he takes my wrist again and runs his thumb over the tattoo. “Mine,” he repeats.
“Food,” I mutter, stepping away.