Chapter 3
ROOK
I barely slept for three hours before the pain returned.
It took longer than I cared to admit to get out of bed, and I stumbled into the hallway.
PD’s bedroom door was ajar, and curiosity had me peeking inside.
He wasn’t there, his bed pristine, and I frowned, shoving the door open farther. He hadn’t gone to sleep.
My heart ached as I took stock of his room. I should’ve been in here with him, curled up on his queen-size bed, snuggled close to his warm, hard body. But then, I would’ve upset him with my pained groans during the night.
I got dressed, then walked to the kitchen, but the lights were off and PD wasn’t in the main part of the house, either.
Frowning, I stumbled to the front door and jerked it open, walking along the short path to the garage.
When I checked inside, I found PD’s bike gone.
I didn’t know how I hadn’t heard him leave.
But where had he gone? Images of him at Sinful or Black Out, finding a random fuck, sank into my mind, and jealousy swirled in my gut. I curled my hands into fists and puffed out deep breaths.
The irrational part of me considered getting on my bike and going somewhere—anywhere—to find a guy to screw, but fatigue heavier than a ten-ton engine weighed me down.
My ribs throbbed and my lungs were tight.
The doctors told me it was expected after not one, but two punctured lungs.
They’d told me I was lucky to be alive, but no matter how many times they said it, my thoughts on the matter didn’t change.
I didn’t feel lucky.
I fucking hurt.
My mind was foggy.
This was hell. Every day since the accident was the same—constant pain and fogginess. The only thing that ever changed was how bad it was each day. I’d been shot, beaten, and had motorcycle crashes, but nothing felt this way. Nothing.
Cursing PD for leaving me in this house alone, I walked farther into the garage and grabbed a metal bucket we kept around for the times we worked on our bikes.
I upturned it, settling it next to my Harley’s engine.
Sitting my ass on it, I started to fiddle with her, checking out her parts and her oil to make sure she was ready to go for that call I always waited for, the one where King finally told me he needed me again.
Who the hell knew when it would come? None of my brothers trusted me.
Had I become so fucked up that they didn’t want to risk their lives with me at their side?
I shook my head and focused on the Harley. Twenty minutes later, the rumble of PD’s bike filled the quiet early morning air until he turned his Triumph into the driveway and pulled up in the darkness. I glanced at him, lips pressed so thin they hurt.
He watched me in return. The thick silence sat heavy between us, then anger came at me as sharp as a whip.
“Did you enjoy emptying your nuts?” Words fell out of my mouth before I could stop them. My filter had disappeared.
PD jumped in surprise. He didn’t say anything, so my brain continued to betray me. I couldn’t stop the out-of-body experience that had me inwardly wincing in embarrassment.
“Didn’t think you were a horny dog like the rest of those fuckers, but it ain’t the first time I’ve been wrong about you.
” That was bullshit. PD was the kind of guy who laid out the truth.
He didn’t beat around the bush, especially not with me, which was why I didn’t understand where these thoughts were coming from.
I had no control. I was a witness to a verbal crime and couldn’t stop the trash tumbling from my lips.
“What the hell, Will?” PD hopped off his bike and took a step back as though I’d physically struck him. He shot forward, boots slamming on the cement driveway until he was inside, the light of the garage finally flooding his handsome features.
I froze, taking in the sight of him that I hadn’t seen while he skulked in the darkness. His hands and neck were covered in blood, and the mess was also stark against his face. All the anger that had settled in me slipped away, gone as quickly as it had come.
“What happened?” I struggled to my feet and moved toward him, and he didn’t flinch as I cupped his cheeks, eyeing him for injuries. “Are you hurt? Who fucking hurt you?” I was ready to slit as many throats as I had to. No one was allowed to lay a finger on him.
“It’s not my blood,” PD murmured, his Adam’s apple jumping in his throat. He winced and guilt flashed in his gorgeous gray eyes. “Fuck, Will.”
Damn it. He didn’t have to explain because, in my heart, I knew where he’d been. I could see it in the way he gnashed his teeth and the angry tears that gathered in his eyes. His hand shook as he touched my shoulder. Suddenly, I wasn’t sure how I felt.
I stumbled a step back and almost went ass up over the bucket I’d used as a seat. PD went to catch me, but I held up my hand and glared at him. “Don’t fucking do it. Tell me where you were.”
PD hesitated and rubbed his face. Luckily, the blood was dry and didn’t smear. “I went back to the clubhouse. I wanted to talk to the pres, demand we get to kill the Demon.”
I laughed without humor. “Looks like you got what you wanted.”
He shook his head. “It wasn’t supposed to go that way. Undertaker was already working him over.”
“And you joined in without telling me?” The betrayal in my voice was too thick, but I couldn’t stop the irrational feelings that inundated me until my stomach churned with nausea.
I hovered on the verge of rage, but the sensation of loss joined the assault of emotions.
My fingers itched, but for what? To fight? To punch something that wasn’t PD?
He dithered again, which wasn’t him. His trust in me to handle the truth had disappeared, and it was a reminder of how the rest of the club felt, too. I was a liability. “King thought torture might be too much for you right now.”
His words landed a harder blow than anything physical would’ve, even with all my injuries. I took a step back, and PD went to rush forward, but I held up my palm to him. “Fucking don’t.”
“You’re my friend, Will, and I saw what happened to you.
That spill . . . . You were on the ground, broken and bleeding, and I thought you were dead.
” He glanced away, as though it hurt to even look at me.
“I saw you die. Three times on the way to the hospital. They brought you back with CPR every time, and I had to watch as they zapped you back to life.”
“Poor fucking you,” I snapped. I turned my back on him and zeroed in on the steel bucket I’d been sitting on.
I kicked it as hard as I could and it went hurtling toward the garage wall and clattered against the bricks.
The metal crumpled, then the bucket thumped back onto the floor, but that was nothing compared to the pain that speared my ribs like a heated rod of agony.
I fell to my knees with a shout, clutching my abdomen, where fiery torture assaulted me. PD was at my side in an instant, crashing to his knees and grabbing my arm.
“Fuck, are you okay?” He laid an arm around my shoulders, clutching me and squeezing gently. “Do you need to go to the ER?”
Despite the pain, I shoved him away, and he fell on his ass, eyes wide in surprise. “Fuck off. I don’t need your help.”
Hurt passed over his face and he sighed, sitting back with his elbow on his knee. “Will—”
“Don’t.” One word took every bit of my energy to shove out of my mouth.
I hated this cavernous divide that had festered between us since I’d woken up in the hospital.
We grew further apart with each passing day, and the friendship, and more, that tethered us frayed until we’d become barely recognizable.
I wasn’t the same man. I felt different. I was different.
“Tell me how I can help,” PD finally whispered after a moment of silence swept past. He didn’t move, but his muscles stiffened, as though he was ready to rush into action once I gave him a task.
“You can’t.” I bent my head and held my abdomen tighter, hoping the pain would go away. It didn’t. “Nothing anyone can do will help me. I’m fucking broken.”
PD shifted slowly until he was on his knees again. He shuffled closer but didn’t touch me. “We can fix broken. When our bikes break down, what do we do? We fix them. They’re not perfect, but they’re ours. They’re loved. It’s the same with you. You’re our brother and we care about you. Let us help.”
I laughed. “Not even King and Undertaker trust me to kill one of the men who did this to me. What kinda care is that? Fuck them.” I thumped my chest and it rattled my lungs when I drew in a breath, but I shoved aside the burning sensation.
“I deserved that right. Not Undertaker or King or you. That Demon ruined my life.”
“I know.” He tugged on the brim of his hat and groaned. “This is royally messed up.”
“You think?” I grumbled with a wince of pain.
He stared at me for a long few seconds before he rose to his feet. Holding his hand out, he gave me a small smile. “Come on, let’s get some painkillers for you and talk about it. We can come up with a plan.”
I thought about arguing with him, but tiredness hit hard, reminding me of the lack of sleep I’d achieved in the time I’d lain down.
I grabbed his hand and let him help me stand.
A rush of dizziness had me swaying, but PD was there to hold me until my vision righted itself.
The doctors had said to expect balance issues, and I’d felt it a lot since I’d escaped their walls, especially while riding my bike.
I didn’t tell PD about any of that, though.
He opened his mouth, and I glared at him.
“Don’t ask.”