Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
GOOSE
The room is still spinning when the sun spills onto my face.
I force myself to push up to a sitting position.
I’m pretty sure I could stay in bed for another hour, maybe even a week at this point.
Blinking a few times, I try to regain my wits about me.
I’m not sure it works, though. The room continues to whirl, so I don’t know how well I’m doing, but I try.
The sudden urge to piss is stronger than my imbalance, so unless I’m going to piss in my sheets, I’m going to need to stand my ass up. Straightening from the bed, I sway as I make my way to the bathroom. It’s a long, slow shuffle, and I almost fall on my ass more than once during my travels.
After pissing, I decide I need some water and maybe another shot and a beer. The water for hydration, the beer to keep me a little drunk and hopefully get rid of the creeping headache, fat-head feeling, and the nausea.
I’m not sure it’ll work, but I’ll try it anyway.
I scrub my palm down my face, trying to wake myself up. That definitely doesn’t work. In fact, I feel even more fucking dragged down than I did when I forced myself out of bed to piss.
The club is quiet, thank fuck. The prospect behind the bar doesn’t even ask me what I want.
Before I can say a word, he’s there in front of me, placing down a shot, then a beer, and finally a water.
I start with the water. It only takes me seconds to finish.
Then I down the shot next, before I take a pull from the beer.
I should probably get another water, to be honest, but I decide beer is close enough to water and will likely hydrate me about the same at this point.
“You’re kind of a fucked-up mess,” a voice states next to me.
Turning my head, I look over to see Peecan standing beside me. His road name still amuses me, but at this moment, I don’t have the inclination to laugh. He shifts his attention over to me, his eyes finding mine and holding my gaze with his.
“Yeah. Bitches and brothers will do that to you.”
He chuckles. “I guess they will, won’t they?”
He doesn’t ask me anything personal, although he knows I’m here as a nomad, so he probably knows the basics of my story, and at least he knows that I am here to get away from where I was.
“What do you want?” I ask.
I sound as grumpy as I am, but I find it hard to give a shit. I know I shouldn’t take any of my personal shit out on him, but at the same time, he’s here talking to me. He started this dialogue, and I am clearly not in the mood. I know what I feel like, and I can only imagine what I look like.
“You’re here when you should be there.”
Wrapping my hand around the beer bottle, I push away from the bar and begin to move toward the front door. I reach for the handle, pushing it open as I move into the bright sunlight of the morning.
I need this to sober me up. I need it to remind me that I’m alive, even though on the inside, I feel dead.
Cold and fucking dead.
I know I should be there. I know I’m here and I should be there. I don’t need him or anyone else to remind me of that. What I need is to get the fuck over this shit and move on, or bury it deep down inside me and forget that I ever fell in love.
Bury it, it is, because I’m never going to be able to forget about Cidney. Not in a million fucking years.
Walking outside, I wince as the sun threatens to blind me. Lifting my beer to my lips, I take a long pull, closing my eyes and allowing the cool liquid to slide down my throat. My head is still thumping, but the sun feels good, almost healing. And it’s nice to be completely alone for a moment.
Unfortunately, I’m not alone for long. The rumble of a bike breaks my peace, and I open my eyes, watching as the president of the Wilmington club roars up to the clubhouse. I watch in silence as he parks his bike, then throws his leg over the side.
I expect him to walk past me and into the building, but he doesn’t. Instead, he faces me and makes his way toward me, stopping directly in front of me. I watch him silently, knowing he’s got something on his mind.
I’m not going to ask him, though. He can tell me whatever the fuck it is he’s thinking. Prez clears his throat, rocking back on his heels as he lets out a low whistle. I have no fucking clue what’s going on, so I arch a brow in question, waiting for him to continue.
“Your people have been trying to get a hold of you,” he states.
I snort. “Not my people any longer,” I murmur.
He curls his fingers around my shoulder before he gives me a small shake. “Still your people, Goose. Even if you aren’t there,” he murmurs. “But I need you to contact them, tie up whatever loose ends they’re hounding you about. And then, when you do that, I got a job for you.”
Tipping my head back slightly, I look up into his eyes. “A job?”
He chuckles. “A job. You’ve been here a few days now. It’s time for you to earn your keep. But Thunder Rock has been trying to get a hold of you, and you should probably figure out why. Seems a bit important.”
I thank him, and he shakes my shoulder slightly before his hand falls away. I watch as he makes his way toward the building. He tugs the door open and slips inside. When he is gone, only then do I tug my phone out of my pocket.
There are ten missed calls on my notifications and countless text messages.
Plus, I’ve ignored about this many, too.
I don’t know what the fuck they could want me for.
This seems really over the top. Searching for the only name in my phone that I actually want to call, I find my brother’s and touch the send button.
“Where the fuck have you been?” he demands as his greeting.
I don’t respond to his words, mainly because I’m not beholden to fucking answer to him. Thankfully, he doesn’t make it a pissing contest, because if he did, the way I’m feeling today, I would just end the call and turn my whole fucking phone off.
“What’s up? You called the president here to tell me to call you, so I’m calling you.”
“It’s Cidney. It’s bad. She’s in the hospital.”
CIDNEY
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The sounds of the hospital are not comforting. In fact, I hate them. My eyes slowly open as I look up at the ceiling above me. Everything hurts. Every single part of my body aches, and I know it’s in my head because I’m on some serious painkillers.
Or maybe it’s just the anticipation of the pain meds wearing off, I’m not sure. Either way, I don’t want to be here, and I don’t want to be in pain. But here I am, and the pain is imminent.
“You’re awake.” The deep voice is one I recognize, but only barely.
Turning my head slowly, I blink a few times as my vision adjusts, and then I see him standing just a few feet away. He’s got a clipboard in his hand and is wearing a white coat.
Oh god.
How embarrassing.
There, standing in front of me, is my new boss and lover, who no doubt has seen and stitched up whatever injuries that asshole gave me.
I try not to cry, but my bottom lip starts to tremble.
Thankfully, I’m able to inhale a deep breath through my nose and let it out my mouth.
To calm myself before I fall apart in this room in front of him.
He flicks his gaze up from the clipboard when I don’t respond to him immediately. When his eyes meet mine, that’s when I know that shit was bad. I know because I can see the pity in his gaze.
“George?” I ask in a whisper.
He gives me a sad smile, shaking his head once before he clears his throat. “I found you in rough shape, Cidney.”
“What do you mean, you found me?”
I can hear the horror in my voice because what the hell does he mean, he found me? He found me.
He. Found. Me.
“It’s okay, Cidney. I was worried when you didn’t show up for your first day of work, so I came by when I had a break between patients. The door was cracked open, and I found you on the floor.”
How embarrassing. I open my mouth to say that, but he shakes his head once. “You’re not going to apologize or be embarrassed. You’re going to give the police report when the detectives come back, and you’re going to heal.”
My stomach drops at his mention of the word detective. What the actual fuck? I can’t talk to the cops. I open my mouth to say that, but he takes a step closer to me, dipping his chin slightly as his gaze focuses on mine.
“I know about the Reapers. I know this probably involves them in some way, but I don’t care.”
“If you know, then you should care,” I say with a hiss.
He gives me a halfhearted smile, shaking his head once.
“My mother was one of their whores, babe. I know the Reapers. But what happened, I can’t write any of that off as a slip-and-fall type of injury.
You were violated in the worst possible way, and the person who did that to you needs to pay for their crime. ”
I almost laugh, but I don’t need to, because George chuckles first. “Whoever it was, they’re going to pay, aren’t they?” he asks.
“I know who it was, and yes.”
George reaches out, taking my hand in his, and he squeezes it gently. “Just tell me it wasn’t him. The guy you’re trying to get over?”
“No, it wasn’t, I assure you.”
“Good. Now get some rest.”
He turns and walks out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Thankfully, I’m not awake long enough for those thoughts to get too deep. I blink a few times, my eyelids becoming heavy, and then the room around me slowly drifts away to nothingness.