Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CIDNEY
As I sink down to the floor beside him, all thoughts of Justin and our relationship disappear because right now, Goose needs me. When I roll him onto his back, he lets out another moan. This time, it sounds pained more than anything else.
My heart squeezes.
Then, once he’s on his back, I take him in. Justin didn’t kill him, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t come damn close. Anger courses through my veins at my cousin. The man I’ve looked up to as a pseudo-father my entire life, and now he’s done this to the man I’ve fallen in love with.
“I’m so angry,” I whisper.
I place my hand beside him and start to push up to standing. I need to gather supplies to clean him up. But before I can stand, his hand lashes out, his fingers curling around my wrist, and he holds on to me, squeezing. I freeze, waiting.
“Don’t be,” he rasps.
His voice is so hoarse and weak that I almost don’t even believe it’s him. If he weren’t lying right in front of me, I wouldn’t believe it’s him at all. I would think it was someone else.
“How can I not be? Look at what he did to you.”
He laughs, then coughs, then moans and rocks slightly side to side. “I knew it was coming. He went easy on me.”
It’s my turn to laugh. I snort as I stand to my feet. His hand falls from my wrist, and I look down at him, taking all of him in, every battered, bloody inch of him that I can see with his clothes on. I’m sure there is more beneath them, but I haven’t inspected him yet.
“You’re a gigantic bruise mixed with blood, Goose. Nobody went easy on anyone, and if they actually did, I would hate to see what they did to you, because I’m not sure you would even be breathing.”
“Probably not.”
That statement makes my heart squeeze. The thought of him not being here with me, the idea that Justin could do that to me, to him, causes my entire body to ache from the inside out.
It’s my heart more than anything.
It hurts.
I know I was warned that Justin had the right or whatever in their world to do this to Goose, to even kill him if he wanted to, for being with me, but it doesn’t make the idea of it, the pain of seeing it come to fruition, any less.
I hurry to the bathroom to gather my first-aid supplies and some clean towels. I have no idea what I’m doing when it comes to wound care, but I can wash the blood off and put some antibacterial cream on whatever is bleeding, then slap Band-Aids any and everywhere I can.
After filling a bowl with hot water, I make my way back to the living room. I’m surprised to see that Goose is leaning against my sofa, his cut and shirt on the sofa behind him, his legs stretched out in front of him, and his chin dropped with his eyes closed.
“You’re a mess of a man,” I whisper.
Sinking onto my knees next to him with my supplies, I begin to work on him. He hisses every time the warm towel touches his skin. I blot as gently as I can, wondering how the hell this became my life.
“I want this to work, Cidney.”
“But?” I ask, refusing to make eye contact.
I’m not sure if I can look at him when we’re talking about this. My focus needs to remain on his wounds, and I keep it there as I work, my attempt to distract myself all over again, but in a different way.
“No but. I just want this to work.”
My lips curve up into a grin before I flick my gaze up to meet his. Even though I can still feel a but hanging in the air, he doesn’t say anything else.
“So what happens next?” I ask.
I hate that he’s swollen and bloody, that his face and body are bruised, but I can’t deny that this moment also makes me happy.
This is a pivotal moment, and I know that everything is about to change, between us and in my life, with whatever he’s going to say next.
I just hope it’s not something that will break my heart in two.
“What happens next is that you and me—we’re together now. You’re my woman and my old lady.”
I continue to clean him up while a million questions swirl around inside my head. I want to ask him all of those questions, but I don’t. I feel really stupid right now, and a little immature, too.
But god, that sounds amazing.
It’s what I want.
Be his woman.
Goose’s old lady.
Holy fucking shit.
“Goose,” I whisper.
“My fucking woman,” he rasps, but there is a sadness to his voice that I don’t understand.
“I don’t like any part of this, Goose. I really don’t.”
I feel very hesitant to be happy, to allow myself to be happy, because this doesn’t feel anything remotely like a happy situation.
Before I can say anything else, he reaches out, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me against his side.
He lets out a grunt as I land against him. His lips touch my temple.
“Just stay here with me,” he murmurs.
“Goose?”
“Trent,” he mutters. “My name is Trent, baby.”
Trent.
“What really happens next, Trent?”
He hums, not saying anything immediately. I hold my breath for a moment, then let it out slowly, shifting my head so I can look up at him. I watch as he tilts his chin slightly, his gaze shifting to find mine.
“I’ll heal, and then I’ll get my ass back to work.”
What he doesn’t say is that we move in together, we get engaged, we get married, and we start our lives together.
All of which I was hoping for and anticipating.
He lifts his hand, sliding his fingers through the strands of my hair, gripping them tightly.
He leans forward slightly, and then his lips touch mine.
He doesn’t deepen the kiss, his mouth moving against mine as he speaks.
I want him. I want it all with him. I haven’t forgotten about Justin, and I haven’t forgiven him, either. I don’t know if I ever will, because looking at this man, I can’t just accept what my cousin did to him.
Goose might have, but not me. As soon as I can, I’m going to contact my cousin and speak with him. I’m not okay with the condition in which he left Goose.
GOOSE
I pass out. I’m not sure how long I sleep on the floor, but when I wake up, it’s because Cidney tugs me to my feet, and with several moans and some very loud groans, I am able to make it up to standing.
Every fucking part of my body aches. It hurts so goddamn badly. I stumble toward the bed, climbing onto it and hissing as I lie down on the mattress. Even the sheets hurt my skin. I’ve got to be beyond bruised. There are probably some cracked bones I’m dealing with, too.
Closing my eyes, I attempt to breathe. It doesn’t work out too well. Everything fucking hurts. My breaths come out in pants as sweat breaks out over my skin. I’m tired. I could fall asleep right now if my body didn’t hurt so badly. I don’t know how the fuck I’m exhausted, but I am.
I can’t remember the last time I was beaten so fucking badly. Maybe when I was a punk-ass kid doing shit I wasn’t supposed to be doing, saying some fly shit, but Maverick always had my back, and I was never fucked up too badly. He couldn’t have my back yesterday, though.
I know I’m completely fucked up, because I don’t even open my eyes to watch Cidney change into her pajamas. I don’t have the energy for that. I am completely exhausted, with every fucking inch of my body aching.
When I feel the bed dip as she climbs onto the mattress beside me, I bite back the moan. It’s there, right fucking there.
“I can tell by the way you’re holding your body that you aren’t asleep. Do you need anything from me?”
Her words are sweet, but they’re like a stab to the gut. I need a lot of shit right now, but none of it I can have. I need Ivy not to fucking hate me. I need Cidney to be mine. I need my brothers.
“Everything’s fucked up,” I state.
Those words are met with silence.
I’m not sure how long we lie there, neither of us speaking. I start to doze off or pass out when I hear her voice.
“What does that mean?” she asks softly.
I don’t speak immediately, unsure if I should tell her what the fuck this means. Because the outcome wasn’t what I wanted. Sure, Ivy brought me back here and dumped me, but that doesn’t mean he’s cool with this, because he’s not.
I figured once we went to blows, that he would be cool and let me claim Cidney as mine.
The exact opposite happened, and I’m finding it difficult to tell her that Ivy doesn’t want us together.
He doesn’t want us together so badly that he’s not only told me but made an announcement to the entirety of the club.
If I say fuck it and am with her anyway, I could lose my position in the Vicious Reapers. I could lose my family, and I could lose my life. Cidney would lose her family, too, because Ivy won’t accept it. He just fucking won’t.
I never imagined that this was going to be the outcome.
I couldn’t have guessed it. He didn’t seem too pissed about us when he was here, so I don’t know what changed, but it’s clear that he is not going to let this happen, and without his consent, there can’t be an us.
As much as I want there to be, as deeply as I’ve fallen for her, Cidney can’t be mine.