28. Myla
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Iwake with a start, flailing my arms out and kicking as hard as I can. I don’t remember why I’m scared, but there’s no question that I need to protect myself.
“Shh, Myla, you’re safe.” A hand rests on my shoulder and I rear back, throwing a punch in that direction. A minute too late, the voice registers. It’s Judge. He curses through a groan, and I settle my limbs as I look around. I’m in Judge’s room, in Judge’s bed. I’m so confused, and fuck me, my head hurts.
The curtains are drawn, and with only one lamp on, the room is dim and smells just like the biker I adore. I roll to my side, and he’s right there, lying on his side next to me. His hand is cupping his nose, and his eyes are squeezed tight. I know I should apologize, but I’m too happy to see him.
“Oh my god, what happened to your eye?”
“Just give me a sec.” He blinks and pinches the bridge of his nose.
I reach out to touch him, but my hand freezes mid-air at the sight of my bandaged fingers. “What the?—?”
“It’s okay. Bones said you might wake up confused, but the important thing to know is that you’re safe.”
“What—? Why—? I don’t understand.” Looking at my arm, I see there’s another bandage around my upper arm. “Jesus. Judge, what happened?”
“I know it doesn’t feel like it, but everything’s okay. What’s the last thing you remember?”
My eyes track side to side as I try to think back. “You got me a kitten.”
“I did. The next day, you said you had plans. Do you remember?”
I remember waking up with a warm and sleepy fur ball tucked up against my neck. After that, I had a chill day because I didn’t want to leave Ryder alone. That’s where it starts to get fuzzy. I remember showering and getting dressed. Then I got my suitcase out because I needed a gun and a knife. I was moving to the third name on my list.
Glancing over at Judge, I frown, my face pinching and tears threatening to fall as bits and pieces come back to me. “I was hiding in the closet. The girl was high, and I told her I was going to save her, but she ratted me out because she didn’t want her drugs to go away.”
Judge wipes away a few stray tears. “Do you remember what happened after that?”
“He pushed me down the stairs.” I carefully touch the back of my head, feeling a tender bump before moving to my arm, pulling up the sleeve of a T-shirt I didn’t put on to expose my rewrapped shoulder . “Then he shot me with my own gun.”
“Bones took a look and said it’ll heal. It’ll just take some time.”
“After that, I passed out, and when I woke up, it was dark. So fuckin’ dark.” My voice cracks, remembering how terrified I was. “I didn’t have any clothes on, and it was so cold. I was lying in a pool of blood from my shoulder, but I didn’t know how bad the wound was because I couldn’t see shit.”
“Jesus.” Judge rolls onto his back, his eyes cast up at the ceiling and his hand digging into his chest. “Myla, I?—”
“There’s more.”
“I know this isn’t about me, but sweetheart, I don’t know how much I can take. Fuck. I wish we would’ve found you sooner. I’m so fuckin’ sorry.” He rolls back onto his side, propping his head up with a hand. The pain I see in his eyes nearly breaks me, and to know I caused it only makes it worse. When my lower lip quivers, he rests a hand on the back of my neck and softly skims his thumb over my cheek. “What happened after that?”
He scoots closer and moves his hand down to my hip, holding me there like he’s afraid I’ll disappear. Wrinkles form between his brow, and I hate that I’ve made him this upset. Until now, he wasn’t part of the equation while I was checking off my list. I wanted to be selfish and do what I wanted, middle fingers in the air to anyone who tried to stop me, but now, I realize that my choices have had a domino effect, no matter how much I didn’t want them to.
I explain the rest, sifting through patchy memories up until David had me in that room. “After that, it’s all kind of a blur. I think he drugged me because I vaguely remember a prick at my neck.”
“We think it was ketamine and that he gave you too much, making you hallucinate.”
“Hallucinations?” I ask, disbelieving. The throbbing in my head is getting worse, but I have to know more, even though it’s hard to believe. Wouldn’t I have a memory of it?
“You were running out the door when I was coming in to save you. You were naked, and the look on your face. . . I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like you were there but not really there. You were frantic and screaming about demons.”
I try harder to remember, which only makes my headache worse, but there’s not even a whisper of a memory. Chills run up my spine thinking about what could’ve happened while I was out of my mind. I’m already feeling violated, but—if I think too much about that, I’ll spiral, and I’ve had enough today.
“I don’t remember any of that.”
“If it’s any consolation, I think you broke the nose of one of them.”
“Really?”
“Even high as a kite, you’re a badass.”
“How did you find me?” Rolling onto my back, I dig my thumbs into my eyeballs. It feels as though they’re both in a vice, and the pressure-pain keeps growing with each passing minute.
“Migraine?”
“Yeah. It’s really bad.” It’s been weeks since I’ve had a migraine. Once the concussion cleared, they went away, just like Bones said they would. I guess getting tossed down a flight of stairs has me starting from scratch.
“Hold on.” The pressure on the mattress changes, and the water in the bathroom turns on. Seconds later, there’s a pop of a medicine bottle opening before the shake of some pills. “Open.” He crawls back onto the bed and places two pills on my tongue. “Turn your head to the side; there’s a straw so you don’t have to sit up.” Once I’ve taken the pills, he places a cold, damp washcloth over my forehead and eyes. It feels fucking heavenly.
“Thank you.” Wanting to know all of it, I fight through the pain and ask again, “How did you find me?”
“After Satyr narrowed that list of yours down to two names, I was pretty sure I knew where you were. Cy assembled a team to go get you, but I had a bad feeling about it. Assholes like that who have everything to lose if someone finds out about their sins are unpredictable. I couldn’t risk him seeing a cavalry of bikers, knowing he was surrounded, and taking you hostage. So, I sent them to the house of the guy I didn’t think you chose yet, and I went to the other alone.” His arm drapes over my middle. “This okay?”
“Yeah.” I rub a hand up and down his arm, needing to make sure this is real and not part of the hallucination. “Cy’s gotta be pissed.”
“He is, and I should care, but?—”
“You don’t.”
“No. I don’t.” He sighs.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure he’s more pissed at me, so at least you have someone on your team.”
“I don’t think he’s mad at you. He’s concerned that you’d take such a big risk alone, but honestly, I think he’s proud of you. You know that we go on rides to raise money for kids and teens who are at risk for that kind of shit, and we’ve heard some pretty sad stories working so close with the charities. But they’re still bikers, so killing the threat to kids and teens is more their speed than parading from town to town, asking for donations.”
“You switched from ‘we’ to ‘them.’” The light-headed feeling of the narcotics begins to replace the pain, thank fuck.
“What do you mean?”
“When you talked about raising money, you were a ‘we’ with the club, but when you spoke about taking out the source of the problem, you switched to ‘them,’ like you aren’t part of the club when they do those things.”
He blows out a breath. “Yeah, I guess I do separate myself from all that.”
“Except you aren’t separate because then they come home and confess to you, and in turn, you harm yourself.”
“How did we get turned around to talking about me?” he says, only because he knows I’m right.
“So you knew where I was,” I say, giving him a reprieve for now.
“You’re talking in circles, babe.”
“I’m concussed.” The words slur together.
“I think those pain pills are kicking in.” I hear the smile in his voice, and he’s right. The pain has lessened, and I’m a bit loopy, but after everything I’ve been through, I deserve this high. “But yes, I knew where you were.”
“How?”
“The girls in that place, they could’ve been you. You came to Reno with nothing and were at the mercy of a horrible man. Thankfully—though not thankfully for Tinleigh—that dude only wanted you to strip. He could’ve just as easily sent you to live at a place like what you were trying to shut down by taking that guy out.”
Turning back on my side, I attempt to cuddle into him, but with my injuries, all it ends up being is my head tucked under his chin with my hands between us so I don’t have to stretch out my arm. He helps by hitching my leg over his hip and working his hand under my injured arm to hold me. I didn’t think I’d ever see Judge again, let alone be here with him like this. It feels like a dream come true.
“All I’ve done is shut you out, but you still got to know me somehow, enough to know how I think. I’m sorry I made it so hard for you.” I inhale his intoxicating scent, and it makes me feel safe. The pine from his soap and the leather of his cut seems to cling to him even when he’s not wearing it.
“Does that mean you’ll let me in now?”
I tip my head back to look him in the eyes. “When I was lying on that cement floor, bleeding and fairly certain I was going to die, I had only one regret.”
“What was that?” He skims his knuckles down my cheek in the softest caress.
“That I never told you I’m in love with you. I don’t know how it happened or when, but nothing has ever been more clear to me than that.”
He touches his lips to my forehead in a kiss that stretches on for long seconds before he pulls away and tucks me back into him. “I love you too, Myla, but I know exactly when it happened.”
“When?”
“When I gave you Ryder and witnessed the biggest badass I’ve ever met coo and love on that kitten. My heart nearly combusted, and suddenly, it was obvious.”
“For you, it took a kitten. For me, it took an abduction and getting shot. Hmm. . . yeah, that tracks.”
“It’s not funny,” he chides. “I almost lost you.”
I blow out a breath. “I know.”
“Are you done?” he asks, and if hope has a tone, he’s speaking with it. I don’t want to disappoint him or worse, have him leave me, but I know deep down that I need to see this through. There are people counting on me who don’t even know I’m out there fighting for them, and I can’t let them or myself down. My silence must be all the answer he needs because he visibly deflates and rolls to his back, staring at the ceiling.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“You almost died. If I hadn’t been there, you would’ve, and I was going off a hunch at best. Do you know what losing you would do to me, to Tinleigh?”
“You didn’t see those girls, Judge.” I sober thinking about them.
He throws back the covers and gets out of bed. It’s so rare I see him in anything but his button-down and jeans that the black track pants and white T-shirt are a shock. Like when you only see someone in glasses, then one day, they wear contacts and feel like a stranger. Though I will say, it looks good on him. I don’t have a chance to savor how he looks, though, because his hands land on his hips, ready to scold me. The dim lighting creates shadows on his face, making his angered expression look even more severe.
“You haven’t seen yourself. Fuck, Myla. You look like you’ve been through a war. You were shot, for fuck’s sake.”
“I know, but I was too cocky. I wanted to be up close when they died so they knew it was me who killed them. Now I realize the most important thing is for them to die, so I need to be smarter. Cut brake lines, shoot them, those kinds of things.”
“You’ll get caught.”
“I won’t. I have no attachment to these men at all.”
He runs a hand down his face. “I can’t deal with this right now. Tinleigh has been losing her mind trying to get to you, so I had to promise to text her the second you woke up. I’ll tell her to come over.”
“Where are you going?”
“For a ride.”
“Don’t leave me, Judge. Not now. Not right after all this. Everything else we can work out later.” Never did I think I’d beg a man for anything, but here I am. I’ve never loved anyone before, and it’s fucking with my head. That’s my excuse.
“Will you stop if I ask you?”
“Judge—”
“How can you expect me to be okay with you going out, night after night, not knowing if you’re hurt or been captured or worse, dead?” He shakes his head. “I can’t. You’ll never understand how it felt to see you run out those doors, bleeding, beaten, and out of your mind. It was horrifying, and I never want to experience that again.”
“So if you leave me, you automatically stop worrying about what I’m doing at night?”
“No, Myla. I’m always gonna fuckin’ worry about you, but ignorance is bliss, and I’d rather be ignorant to what you’re doing than pacing the floor, praying you’re okay.”
“Just let me see this through. Please.” I beg. “After that, it’ll be over, and we can move forward. I want that with you, Judge. I want a future with you.”
His nostrils flare, and his jaw ticks. “If you want it that badly, then you’ll at least consider stopping this before something worse happens that you don’t walk away from.”
“I did consider it, but I keep coming back to the girl I saw with no teeth. They forced her to be a drug addict and now use her body like she isn’t even a person. Deciding to quit would mean I’m just another person who let her down, and I can’t do that to her.”
“Then ask the club to intervene. Riot loves a good kill; I’m sure he’d do it.”
“What I hear you saying is you don’t trust me to handle my business, but you trust Riot?”
“Riot is a professional. Literally. Why wouldn’t I trust him to take care of it without getting hurt? It has nothing to do with gender and everything to do with experience.”
My frustration reaches a whole new level. I want to pull my hair out, shake the daylights out of him, and scream at the top of my lungs. Something, anything, to get this energy out. Why won’t he just listen to me?
“I’ve trained for this. I learned how to shoot, how to ride, and some self-defense. I’m prepared. I just need you to trust me.”
“And I need you to not put me in this situation. I’m telling you I can’t handle it.” He holds his hands out, palms up, wanting me to give in so badly. It breaks my heart that I can’t. This thing is bigger than Judge and me. “Please. For me. You don’t have to be a martyr.”
I bite my lower lip until I taste blood, knowing I’m giving up the best thing that ever happened to me for the sake of others, but they need someone on their side. Maybe it makes me a martyr, but I can’t turn my back on them. “I’m sorry, Judge. I just can’t.”
“Then I’m going for a ride. I’ll be back later.” He slams his bedroom door shut.
I close my eyes, pushing back the tears and the sob that wants to break free. I never should’ve allowed him in. All I wanted was to feel something other than rage, like passion, lust, and an orgasmic euphoria. I never expected to feel love or heartbreak. Had I known, I might’ve stuck with rage.
I allow one tear to spill down my cheek before sniffling and composing myself. There will be time for that later, when Tinleigh’s not around. I can’t hash this out with her right now. I’m physically, emotionally, and mentally drained. One thing I do need from her is a ride home. I’m not staying here just so Judge and I can have the same fight over and over. We said what we needed to say and there’s no compromising.
This thing between us is over.