28. Rory
Chapter 28
Rory
I look around the hospital room, feeling more than a little uncomfortable. I don’t want to be here. If it wasn’t for the need to be wherever Ryan is, I wouldn’t be. They need to get him out of Montana, but no one is listening to me. They don’t take King as a serious enough threat, but they’ll learn. I just have to make sure Ryan doesn’t pay for them being stupid.
“Rory?” Diesel asks. He doesn’t talk plain, but somehow when he says my name, it never fails to send chills running down my spine. I squash down the memories that threaten to bubble to the surface with that thought.
“I’m sorry?” I ask, having no idea what Diesel just said. I’ve spent my time in this room ignoring the fact that he’s here. It hasn’t worked great, but it’s better than the alternative.
“Thank… you… for com…coming,” Diesel says.
It’s been almost three weeks since he woke up. This is the first day I’ve been back. Always before, Crusher takes Ryan to see his dad and I stay with Gunner or Rebel at the hotel. They stay all day, but I’ve never asked what they did. Diesel is on regulated visiting hours and he’s only truly allowed two visitors an hour at a time, three times a day. Being here today it’s clear that they’re not following the rules—which is annoying, because I don’t truly want to be here. I had been hoping a nurse would make me leave. It’s disappointing that it hasn’t happened. I think Gavin arranged it so Crusher and the others can be here longer. I can’t be sure—mostly because, like I said, I haven’t been here.
“I didn’t exactly have a choice. I hear you ordered I show up,” I grumble. “Besides I wanted to stay close to Ryan. You really need to get him out of Montana, Diesel. It wouldn’t pay to take my brother lightly.”
“We need… talk.”
I look over at a sleeping Ryan who is curled up against his father. His face is totally relaxed and he manages to look happy in his sleep—something he hasn’t been since the day King tried to kill Diesel.
“We’ve nothing to say to each other, Diesel.”
“No-ah,” he growls. He doesn’t like me calling him Diesel and that’s been another change. I’ve forced myself to stop thinking of him as Noah, but as Diesel. I refuse to allow myself to call him Noah—even in my thoughts. He recognized the change at once, but I’ve held strong and I’ll keep doing it... I have to.
“Diesel .”
I don’t give an inch. I think if I gave him an inch, he’d demand even more. He huffs out a breath, but doesn’t respond. He does however stare at me as if he’s waiting for me to capitulate to his will.
He’ll be waiting until hell freezes over.
I cross my arms at my chest and I hold his stare. He sighs.
“We need… talk.”
“We need to get Ryan out of Montana,” I argue. “We need him safe.”
“Talk.”
He’s like a damn dog with a bone.
“Maybe your memory is affected by the coma, so I’ll try and catch you up. Everything we had to say to each other was said. There’s nothing more to discuss.”
“Bullshit,” he says, and it’s really annoying that he gets that one word out without a problem and you can hear the disbelief in his voice.
He stares at me and I know he has more to say, but suddenly I’m thankful he has trouble talking.
“I—”
“Ryan will… go home tomorrow,” he says and he stumbles over the words, but he’s definitely getting better at them and that means bad things for me. I only worry about that for a second, before what he says registers. Tomorrow. I wanted him out of Montana, but Ryan going home, surrounded by Diesel’s men and his family… I won’t be needed.
“I’ll say goodbye to him tonight,” I whisper, my voice trembling, even though I try to keep my emotion out of it. This is what’s best for Ryan and that’s all that matters. I need to try and figure out a way to stop my brother. It’d be safer that I do that without Ryan close to me.
“You,” he growls and my eyes jerk up to his face. There’s an intensity there that scares me and only part of it is anger…. “are going… too.”
“No, I?—”
“Yes,” he says and the alarm on his monitor begins sounding. A glance at it confirms his heart-rate has spiked. I frown looking back at him, but the words stop when Ryan wakes up.
“Rory! When did you get here? Did Dad tell you the good news? Uncle Crusher said they’re taking him to a hospital in Tennessee to help him to walk and talk again! He’s going home and we are too! We’re all going back home! Isn’t that great?” he cries, excitedly. He slides from the bed and comes running to me. “I can’t wait! And you’ll love it there, Rory. I can’t wait for you to meet Dakota and all of my friends, and you have to meet Aunt Dani!”
“I don’t think I can go, Ryan. I don’t belong there, baby?—”
“Yes,” Diesel growls. Both Ryan and I jerk and turn to look at him. His face is a picture of classic stubborn man. He’s not going to accept no for an answer.
He’s in for a surprise.
“Keep you both, safe.”
I hold my head down. He wants to make sure we’re both safe. That’s a good feeling, even if it’s not what I want. Ultimately, it’s not him that holds my tongue. No, he’s not the reason I agree at all.
“Don’t you want to go home with me, Rory? You told me you’d take care of me. You told me you loved me,” Ryan says, pulling at my heart strings like only an innocent, small child could. When I look down at his face, tears are shining in his eyes.
“Your Dad and Uncle Crusher are here to take care of you now, baby,” I try, feeling like I can’t breathe.
“I want you,” he says, proving he can be just as stubborn as his father.
My biggest problem is that I want him too. The thought of letting Ryan go, kills me, but I’ve resigned myself to that. He’s not mine, I don’t get to keep him.
“Ryan, baby?—”
“Don’t you love me anymore, Rory?” he asks, and he might not be crying but there are tears and they’re sliding quietly down his face… and mine… I can feel the wetness against my cheeks.
“I love you more than anything in the world,” I tell him, honestly.
“You could come stay with us, at least until Diesel gets out of the rehabilitation facility. Ryan will need you, at least until his Dad can be there.”
I look up at Crusher standing at the door. For a brief second, I wish I could slap him all over again. I think he reads that intent in the narrowing of my eyes because the idiot smiles.
I swallow, trying to remain strong and not give in—even if it’s secretly what I wish I could do.
“Please, Rory?” Ryan asks me. My hand brushes the hair off the side of his face. His hair has gotten way too long and probably needs cut. When it’s like this it reminds me more of Diesel’s. My brother said Ryan was his, but I can’t see it—not really. I use my thumb to wipe away one of Ryan’s tears. My precious little boy has cried too many of these lately. He should be free and happy, even carefree. He shouldn’t have had to witness what he has, shouldn’t have had fear be a constant in his life this young. Children are meant to be protected, loved…sheltered from the harshness of real life.
“Okay,” I whisper, and he cries this joyful noise, his arms going around me. I take the weight of him pulling him up into my arms, letting my eyes close as I hold him. When I open them back up, Ryan’s body still pressed deeply against mine, Diesel is staring directly at me. His gaze is so intense, so heated, that I’m sure it burns me. The intensity in his eyes scares me and I swallow against the fear. “Just until your Dad’s back on his feet again,” I caution, and Diesel’s mouth grows tight.
There’s going to be a fight between us and soon, but then, that’s nothing new.
It seems like I’ve been fighting with this man since the first moment I laid eyes on him. I guess that was a warning right from the beginning.
Too bad I didn’t heed it.