Chapter Eleven
Mia
The plastic chair dug into my spine as I shifted for the thousandth time, trying to find comfort where none existed.
Three days in this box had etched the antiseptic smell into my nostrils and burned the steady monitor beeps into my brain.
I’d never liked hospitals before, but it was official now. I hated them.
I stared at Oktober’s motionless form beneath crisp white sheets, counting each rise and fall of his chest like a prayer.
He wasn’t in danger. In fact, his recovery had been quicker than I’d thought.
The worst of his injuries had been burns to his hands when he’d tried to help Noose, and smoke inhalation.
The damage to his lungs had been the main reason they’d kept him this long.
But he still needed lots of rest. The nurses had stopped suggesting I go home.
I wouldn’t leave, couldn’t leave, not when he’d walked through fire to find me. No. I was here for the long haul.
My fingers traced the edge of the bandage on my forehead, the cut from hitting the Bronco’s seat back now little more than a dull throb beneath. A trivial injury compared to Oktober’s burns. The doctors called them partial thickness burns. Painful, likely to scar, but not life-threatening.
The helicopter ride remained a blur in my memory.
Oktober strapped to a gurney beside me, his hand reaching for mine despite the pain, his eyes fierce even as the medics pushed an oxygen mask over his face.
None of us spoke about leaving behind Noose’s body, still pinned beneath that massive tree.
Inferno had stayed behind to assist in helping others like me who’d been overlooked and were either missing or displaced.
I thought it a testament to the character of the men and women around me that more than one of them had packed up and gone to help Inferno.
The rest had come to support Oktober. And me.
Oktober shifted slightly in the hospital bed, drawing my attention back to his battered body.
His arms bore the worst of the burns where he’d shielded me from falling embers.
Red, angry patches marked his skin between white bandages, a map of his sacrifice.
His normally imposing frame looked strangely vulnerable beneath the thin hospital blanket, his golden hair dull against the stark white pillowcase.
The door opened with a soft click. Ada entered carrying two paper cups, the rich scent of coffee cutting through that unmistakable hospital smell all around us. She placed one on the side table next to me and squeezed my shoulder, her touch warm and solid.
“He’s resting?” she asked, her voice pitched low as she smiled gently down at me.
I nodded, wrapping my fingers around the cup. “Doctor said the sedation should wear off soon.”
Ada nodded, taking the chair opposite mine. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, matching the ones I knew ringed my own. She didn’t push conversation, didn’t try to fill the silence with empty reassurances. The quiet comfort of her presence spoke volumes about the kind of family Oktober had built.
An hour later, Violet appeared carrying a small duffel bag.
Her orange-red hair hung loose around pale cheeks, her usual vibrant energy dimmed but not extinguished.
“Thought you might want fresh clothes,” she said, setting the bag at my feet.
“You’ve got two changes all the way down and some comfortable shoes.
I guessed at the size, but they’re Uggs.
Even at the wrong size they’ll be pretty easy on the feet. ”
“Thank you.” My voice cracked from disuse. How long since I’d spoken? Hours, at least.
Violet’s eyes lingered on Oktober, her expression a complex mix of worry and relief. “The big idiot is tough,” she said softly. “He’ll pull through just fine.”
“I know.” I tried to infuse certainty into those two words, more for myself than for her.
“He’s a good man. I’m glad you let him choose you.
” She squeezed my arm before leaving, the touch brief but grounding.
These people barely knew me, yet they’d folded me into their circle without question, as if Oktober’s choice to come for me was all the vetting they needed.
And I really liked the way she phrased her statement.
I had let Oktober choose me. Probably from the very beginning.
It just took nearly dying to throw myself all in.
“Oktober?” I whispered, leaning in to brush my fingers through his hair as I spoke to him. His eyes opened slowly, unfocused at first, then sharpening as they found my face. “Hey there.”
“K?tzchen,” he murmured, voice rough from sleep and smoke inhalation. His fingers tightened weakly around mine. “Du bist hier.” He cleared his throat. “You’re here.”
“Of course, I’m here.” I blinked back sudden tears. “Where else would I be?”
A shadow crossed his face, something dark and pained that had nothing to do with his physical injuries. “Noose…”
My throat tightened and tears burned. “I’m so sorry, Oktober.”
“He’s been my friend for a long time. We had each other’s backs more than once. Inside and out.”
“He saved me.” My voice broke.
“Ja, K?tzchen. That’s who he was.”
The doctor arrived minutes later. He examined the burns and did medical stuff, but I clung to Oktober’s hand, simply grateful we were both still here and able to hold each other.
“You’re doing well,” the doctor announced. “The burns are painful but healing well. No signs of infection. Your lungs are clearing faster than anticipated.”
Oktober absorbed this with a slight nod. “When can I leave?”
The doctor raised an eyebrow, clearly used to patients wanting to escape his care prematurely. “Tomorrow, if your pain remains manageable and your oxygen holds through the night. Will you have someone to help you change your dressings?” He glanced in my direction.
“I’ll be there,” I said immediately, the promise coming without hesitation. “I’m not leaving him for any reason.” I stuck my chin up defiantly.
Oktober’s shoulders relaxed slightly at my words, though his eyes remained shadowed with grief. He looked up, giving me a nod of acknowledgment.
“Tomorrow then,” the doctor confirmed, making notes in the chart. “We’ll review home care instructions in the morning.”
When he left, Oktober’s gaze found mine again. He lifted our joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles despite the effort it clearly cost him.
“Danke, K?tzchen,” he murmured, gratitude and something deeper woven through the simple words.
I leaned forward, resting my forehead gently against our linked hands. “I’m not going anywhere,” I promised. Not now. Maybe not ever again.
Knight entered, his tattooed face drawn tight with his own grief, the black sclera of his eyes making his stare more intense than usual.
Lavender followed, her small frame almost invisible in his shadow until she stepped beside him, her blonde curls limp as if they too mourned.
The sight of them together, so obviously grieving yet functioning, sent a fresh wave of guilt through me.
Everyone here had lost someone precious, while I’d survived.
“Oktober.” Knight nodded, his voice softer than his appearance suggested. “Good to see you awake, brother.”
Oktober’s hand tightened around mine. “Knight.” He attempted to sit up straighter, wincing with the effort. “They’ve had me drugged pretty good.” I thought Oktober tried to smile but couldn’t quite commit. “News?”
Knight moved to the foot of the bed, his fingers drumming once on the metal frame before going still.
“Inferno got in after the fire burned itself out. He…” Knight cleared his throat and Ada gripped his shoulder for comfort.
“We’ll have a service for Noose when we get home.
Figured we’d all want to be there. Knuckles and Hannah are handling the details. ”
I felt Oktober’s chest expand with a deep breath, watched him struggle to maintain control. “Gut,” he finally said. “His family?”
“Informed,” Knight said. “They want nothing to do with arrangements.”
A muscle in Oktober’s jaw twitched, the only sign of anger he permitted himself. I remembered what he’d told me about the club being his family, about finding belonging there when his blood relatives had failed him. Apparently Noose had shared a similar story.
“Sounds to me like his club is his family.” I didn’t know why I spoke, but this lesson had been hard won on my part. “All of you care about him very deeply. And --” I sucked in a sob trying to break free. “And I know he loved all of you because he gave his life for me.”
Immediately, Lavender and Violet surrounded me, pulling me into their arms. Somehow, Oktober managed to get out of bed, then I was in his arms and we were all crying in a snot-slinging fest for the ages.
“We should let you rest,” Knight finally said. “Doc says you’re out tomorrow?”
Oktober nodded. “If Mia helps with bandages.”
Knight’s gaze shifted to me, assessing but not unkind. “You’ll need somewhere to stay,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
“She’ll stay with me,” Oktober answered before I could respond. His tone suggested this point wasn’t up for discussion. I had to curl my lips in and duck my head to keep from meeting anyone’s gaze and accidentally smiling.
“We’ll make sure a two-bedroom apartment’s ready,” Lavender said, her soft voice carrying a note of authority that seemed to settle the matter.
“That way poor Mia has a place to retreat when the testosterone gets too bad.” She smiled and squeezed my arm gently.
“I’m glad Oktober met you, Mia. You make him smile.
” Her words meant more than she could possibly know.
They left shortly after, along with the others who had been keeping watch.
I got Oktober settled, then sank back into the unforgiving hospital chair, exhaustion hitting me in a fresh wave now that we were alone.
Oktober studied me, his blue eyes intent despite the pain medication I knew coursed through his system.
“You should sleep,” he said. “Real sleep. Not that torture chair.”
“I’m fine,” I insisted. “Tell me about Noose.”
Oktober’s face softened at the name, grief mingling with something like reverence as his eyes got a far-off look, like he looked at the past. “We met in Terre Haute. It’s a…
federal prison,” he added, seeing my confusion.
“I was three months into a three-year sentence. He was finishing year four of twelve.”
I nodded, not wanting to interrupt with questions.
“Prison has rules,” Oktober continued, his German accent thickening as he slipped into memory. “Unwritten ones. More important than ones from the guards. I understood rules, but I was… arrogant. Thought I knew better.”
His gaze drifted to the window, though I doubted he saw the parking lot beyond. “Three guys cornered me in the laundry. Would have killed me.” He shook his head. “Noose walked in. Had no reason to get involved. Could have walked away.” Oktober’s voice dropped lower. “But he didn’t.
“Three against one is bad odds. Three against two?” Oktober’s lips curved slightly.
“Better. We fought. Won. But one had a shiv. Got me here.” He gestured to the scar on his chest I’d noticed our first night together.
“Would have bled out, but Noose knew what to do. Kept pressure on it until help came.”
“He saved your life,” I whispered.
Oktober’s eyes locked with mine, intense despite the medication. “Ja. Twice. Three times now. First two in prison. And now.” His voice broke on the final word, his composure finally cracking but he cleared his throat and held on. “He knew what he did, K?tzchen. I saw his face when he pushed you.”
“I didn’t even know him. Why would he do that for me?”
Oktober reached for my hand despite the effort it cost him, his fingers closing around mine with surprising strength.
“Noose made his choice,” he said firmly.
“He saw what was happening and he chose to save you and me.” I must have looked confused because Oktober smiled gently at me, bringing my fingers to his lips to place a gentle kiss on the backs.
“By saving you, he saved me. I know it sounds corny, but I couldn’t have fought my way out if you’d died.
Noose knew that. So he saved us both, K?tzchen. ”
I stared at our joined hands, unable to reconcile the magnitude of Noose’s sacrifice with my own sense of worthiness. “I don’t know how to carry this,” I admitted quietly.
“You don’t carry it alone,” Oktober replied. “We carry it together.”
The simple promise unwound something tight in my chest, allowing me to breathe fully for the first time in days. We sat in silence for several minutes.
Finally, Oktober spoke again, his voice hesitant in a way I’d never heard before. “When I leave tomorrow… come with me. To the compound. Stay with me while I heal.” He swallowed hard. “Please.”
“I already said I would.” I smiled at him. “I’m not taking it back.”
The relief in his eyes told me everything I needed to know.
I was choosing not just Oktober but his entire world.
The good and the bad, the joy and the grief, the brotherhood that extended far beyond blood ties.
I was choosing a life I couldn’t have imagined a week ago, defined by bonds forged in fire and sacrifice. And unwavering, undying loyalty.
And it felt like… home.