Chapter Seventeen
R aven
When Powerhouse asked me to go for a ride, the last place I was expecting him to bring us to is a private medical clinic.
It was never on my radar, and I’m lost as to why we’re here.
I’ve seen the brothers around the clubhouse get injuries; they usually just wrap whatever hurts in a paper towel or use a bag of ice on it, and that’s the end of it.
I can’t help but worry that this is much more serious if my big guy is here and has brought me along with him.
I plop down in a random cushioned chair along the far wall in the waiting room while he checks in with an older lady at the front desk. I’m aimlessly scrolling through my phone when my mouth pops open at the breaking news story alert under our local station’s page on social media.
Established LDF Company Owner Found DEAD. Silent Partner DEAD. Contractual Resident DEAD.
In a gruesome Monday morning turn of events, three deceased bodies have been discovered.
Albeit the bodies have been found separately, their pasts are linked, making us question if this is truly an individual event for each person involved or if they had deeper ties.
Could this be the beginning of various Cartel attacks in our area, or is this event secluded?
Sources claim at least one victim was brutally tortured with multiple broken bones, but we do not have confirmation at this time.
Local PD was not ready to comment at the scene of the bodies, but has promised a follow-up.
We’ll report more when we have an update.
In the meantime, if you or anyone you know has information on the deaths of Jaque de Lafiore (65, female, owner), Claude Chizisky (57, male, silent partner), or David Trention (24, male, resident dancer), please reach out to us immediately. Stay safe out there, Texas.
“Wow,” I whisper. The article gave me chills with all the stress and emotions I felt while reading it. Talk about out of left field, taking me by surprise. You read about people dying all the time, but when the names are familiar and you know who they are, it hits a lot differently.
Powerhouse’s big frame leans in, drawing my attention to him as he glances down at my phone, breezing over the article.
I was so engrossed in the story, I didn’t realize he’d sat down beside me until I physically felt him.
His warm arm presses against mine, instantly offering me his comfort that only his presence seems to bring me.
He’s like my real-life comfort blanket, only he gets to go almost everywhere with me.
“They’re dead.” I eventually whisper, then turn to meet his gaze. With an exhale, I lean closer and try to explain, “Two of them owned the company I wanted to dance for eventually. I was about to apply before my accident. The third person is…Him”
His brows hike, silently asking me to elaborate.
“The one I told you about… Who threw me.” I switch to signing so the other people in here don’t know my business.
He asks, “The man who caused your injuries is dead?”
“Yes. The article says the three bodies were found in different spots, and one was brutally tortured.”
He shrugs and leans in to kiss my forehead. When he sits back, he comments, “Sounds like he got what he deserved.”
“But why all three of them, I wonder.”
“They must’ve been involved in something bad. Sounds like you dodged a bullet by not dancing for them.”
My shoulders drop, and dare I say it, but is it relief I feel?
I’d always felt so cheated before, out of my chance at a prominent future with them, but what if Powerhouse is right and they were terrible people doing horrible things?
If I’d never gotten hurt, who knows what would’ve happened?
My body could be with theirs right now, tortured and dead as well.
A shudder crawls through me at the very thought. His thought process makes a lot of sense, I reason, which in turn puts my mind more at ease. He always knows what to say to make me feel better.
“I think you’re right, corazón mío.” I end up agreeing, wanting to be sad for the dead, but for some reason, I only feel a sense of closure.
Peace.
“Are you okay?” My tender giant asks after watching me struggle with my emotions, re-reading the news multiple times.
He takes both of my hands, wrapping them in his.
He’s always there to offer me comfort or strength, whatever I may need.
How did I get so lucky to meet the big softy and for him to love me so fearlessly?
“I am,” I respond confidently, knowing I’m better than I have been in a very long time, and it’s thanks to his love. It’s helped heal me and feel safe in my skin again. “I love you.”
“I love you too, my sweet little paprika.”
“Raven?” We’re interrupted by a middle-aged nurse with mousy brown hair, light eyes, and a kind smile wearing teal scrubs, calling my name.
I must’ve read her lips wrong when I glanced up.
I can’t be right, because Powerhouse checked in at the front, not me.
It’s not like he has my information readily available to give them, nor would they see me without me having to pay for the visit, because I don’t have any sort of insurance to cover it.
Regardless, he stands, holding his hand out for me to take, and confusing me further.
Maybe he gave them both of our names to call, and I only saw mine? Who knows, but it’s obviously his turn. I roll with it and stand.
I place my hand in his again, glancing up at him in confusion once more as the nurse tells me they’re ready for me. Me, not him.
He offers a small smile, but nothing more, as we’re greeted by another nurse on the way and led to a room down a short hall. “Please have a seat. Doctor Hawkins will be right with you.” The nurse says and closes the door behind her.
We sit, and I turn to him, “What is this about? Why did she call my name and act like this visit is for me and not you?”
“Do you trust me?” His expression is full of so many emotions, fear, hope, excitement, but also hesitation. I stare into his eyes, wondering what on earth could have my man feeling so much in this moment? “Please say you do, my sugar dumpling.”
“Of course, I trust you.”
He nods, “That’s good, real good. Please know that I did this because I thought it would make you happy, and for no other reason. If it doesn’t, we’ll leave and never mention it again, okay?”
I match his nod with my own. He squeezes my hand before bringing it to his mouth and kissing each knuckle.
My anxiety racks up a notch as now I know for sure I didn’t misread the nurse's lips, and we really are here for me. But for what? With Powerhouse, there’s no telling what he’s up to.
He loves my boobs, but does he want me to get them bigger or something?
No, I don’t think so, we’re not at a plastic surgeon’s office, we’re at a regular old doctor’s office.
Could this be because I tell him randomly that my ankle and wrist aches?
I hope he’s not wasting the time and money, I already know there’s nothing more for me to do with them, just ice and practice my physical therapy moves to strengthen the areas.
The door opens, and I keep my eyes pinned on the doctor’s face, hoping to see enough of his words as he enters so I’m not completely lost on this appointment.
His mouth doesn’t move except for a smile and nod in our direction.
He grabs his chair from behind his desk, pulling it around until he’s directly in front of us, and then he sits down.
“Good afternoon, Raven. Thank you for coming in. I received your files from Setom hospital, and their doctors were correct, your hearing loss is operable. The images and everything are out of date, so I’d want to order another set, just to be certain, before I refer you to our surgeon, Doctor Pembrim.
She’s won various awards for her research and skills on restoring hearing, so you’ll be in the best hands. ”
Tears fill my vision. Powerhouse made my appointment?
But how did they get my information and stuff from the hospital?
I want this so badly, but it breaks my heart knowing I’ll never be able to afford it.
I’m touched and heartbroken all at once at the possibilities.
He has no idea how much it means to me that he’s been so thoughtful.
Turning to my boyfriend, I attempt not to let any tears spill as I sign, “How?”
“We have a friend at the hospital. Also, several of us have seen Doctor Hawkins here; he’s had to patch us up a time or two.
” He smirks at the doctor, obviously, the club has a past with the doctor that he won’t go into detail about.
I know the injuries would’ve had to be pretty bad for them to cave and see an actual doctor for help versus figuring it out on their own.
“But I can’t afford this surgery, I told you this. Is there a payment plan or something?”
Doctor Hawkins gets my attention, his hands moving rapidly, telling me he must work with a lot of patients who use ASL.
It’s a relief, because I’ve seen too many doctors in the past who relied heavily on my lip-reading ability or on nurses to communicate with me.
It’s nice to feel seen for once and like I’m just as important as everyone else, to be able to communicate properly with.
“The surgeries for both ears have already been paid for. You’re here to run the pre-testing and for us to double-check everything, so we can schedule your procedure.
You owe nothing and will owe nothing when it’s finished. ”
I break down.
Tears flow over my cheeks as my heart beats a crazy tempo in my chest. Excitement, love, warmth…Every emotion goes through me with the news because, in the end, I know who did this for me. Powerhouse.
“Y-you did this…For me?”
He nods, teeth in his lower lip as he worries.
He doesn’t need to, though, because I’m not angry in any way.
I’m floored by his thoughtfulness. “My last fight was for you. For this, if you want it. I promise it’s not because you’re less in any way, I love you just the way you are, my little dancer, but I see your sadness at times.
I know you are strong, your abilities floor me sometimes with how good your smelling is, or the fact you can read lips across the room and tell me everything, or the way you pick up on emotions when I have no clue when someone could be upset.
But those are only the small things. I feel like I can’t help you heal your other injuries like I want to, but if I can give you this?
Maybe you’ll see I can bring something to the table to make me worthy of your love, of you spending your time being mine. ”
I gasp in the realization that he put himself at serious risk, all to offer me my surgery, which is elective.
It’s not life or death, but he obviously realizes how important it is to me, enough so that he’d challenge men back-to-back in hand-to-hand brutal fights.
Sure, he’s a trained fighter, but he put himself above the usual risk by taking on more than one fight right after the other.
I’d thought he was absolutely crazy in the moment, to see him red and bleeding, walking the rope like a caged lion, all while waiting for the next man to come out.
It had felt like I was going to have a heart attack in that moment, and now I find out it was all for me?
I swear this man loves me like I’ve never been loved before. Like I’m everything.
I can never get my body back to where it was preinjury. I can never have my dreams of becoming a prima ballerina at a famous company. However, my hearing? This is something I have a chance of getting back, and he’s not doing it for any other reason than he thinks it’ll make me happy.
I launch myself at him, climbing into his lap.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, loving the feeling of how big and sturdy he is underneath me.
I lean in, burrowing into him as much as I can, and let it all loose.
I sob. In happiness, in sadness, and most of all in how thankful I am that he came bulldozing his way into my life.
His arms immediately wrap around me, holding me to him, making me feel so loved. Cherished. Worshipped. Safe.
“I love you with my whole heart, Powerhouse. I can’t believe you did this for me.”
His hand moves to my chest so I can feel him signing that he loves me. He’s never been shy about telling me how he feels, even with him being this intimidating-looking biker. Men everywhere could learn from him and how he treats the woman he loves.
I sit back enough to meet his gaze. His shines with so much adoration, it’s overwhelming. His affection and devotion have healed me in so many ways I didn’t realize were broken. I can feel whole with him by my side, knowing he’ll never let me fall.
“Thank you.” I could say so many things, even try to argue with him about this, but in the end, there is only gratitude and love in my heart for this man. I swipe away my happy tears and turn to Doctor Hawkins, wearing a grin. “Okay, what do I need to do? Because I’m ready.”
His answering smile is wide as he stands and calls the nurse in so they can get my labs, and then he schedules a new round of imaging.
Before we leave, I pick my pre-surgery date to meet with my surgeon, vowing to never forget how loved I feel today and always, by a man who’s willing to give everything he has to make me happy.