Chapter Two #2
She wasn’t Clint’s little sister standing in the hallway anymore. That thought came out of nowhere.
I shoved it right back where it belonged. “What are you doing here?” I asked.
Her eyebrows lifted. “Wow.”
“What?”
“Twenty years, and that’s what I get?”
“What do you want? A parade?”
“A hello might’ve been nice.”
“I said your name.”
“That does not count as hello.”
“Hello, Ramona.”
“Better.”
I shook my head. That pulled at my neck, and I stopped immediately.
Ramona noticed, and her eyes narrowed. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“Never better,” I grunted.
“Right,” she drawled.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” she asked.
“Look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re trying to figure out if I’m about to die.”
Her face went still.
“I’m not,” I tried to reassure her.
“I just found out last night that someone nearly killed you. Give me a minute to wrap my head around all of this,” she laughed lightly.
That shut me up.
I looked at Anchor. “She came to the clubhouse?”
“RV rolled onto the island and died in the parking lot,” Prime supplied.
Ramona turned. “Nobody asked you.”
“I thought he might want the details,” Prime shrugged.
“Those aren’t the important details.”
I looked back at her.
“Your RV died?”
“Temporarily.”
Prime snorted.
She pointed at him without looking away from me. “I don’t like him.”
“You’ll get used to him,” Shay laughed. “It took me a second too.”
Prime slapped a hand over his heart. “That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said about me.”
“Don’t push it.” Shay bumped her side into him.
I studied her. The RV didn’t matter. There was only one thing that mattered. “Why are you here?”
She sighed. “There it is again.”
“What?”
“That question.”
“Who else asked?”
“Everyone.”
Prime laughed.
I ignored him and watched Ramona glance around the room, then back at me. “Can we maybe not do this with an audience?”
My eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit.”
Her eyes closed. “God, you really haven’t changed.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Can you stop asking me that?”
“No.”
“Of course not.”
I looked at Anchor. He understood immediately. “We’ll give you two a minute.”
Ramona’s head snapped toward him. “Wait.”
I frowned.
She looked back at me.
Then toward the door.
Then at me again.
That was interesting.
“You wanted them gone,” I reminded her.
“I know.”
“So?”
“So now they’re leaving.”
Prime barked out a laugh.
Ramona glared at him. “Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Shay grabbed his arm. “Come on.”
Prime let her pull him toward the door. He stopped beside my bed. “Need anything, Ashland?”
“Go fuck yourself.” I grabbed the plastic cup from my tray and threw it at him. Or tried to. It made it about four feet before dropping to the floor.
Prime looked down at it, then at me. “You gotta put your ass into it, Ashland.”
“I am going to beat the shit out of you once I get out of this bed.”
Prime gave me a nod. “Looking forward to it.”
He followed Shay out, and Anchor went next.
Skull pushed himself out of the chair. “I’m getting coffee.” He looked at Ramona before heading toward the door. “Nice meeting you.”
“You too.”
Skull stopped. His eyes slid toward me. “Ashland.”
“Get the fuck out.”
He laughed all the way into the hallway.
The door shut and then there was silence.
I looked at Ramona. Twenty years and suddenly we were alone.
Well, as alone as anybody could be in a hospital with nurses walking in every five fucking minutes.
Ramona shifted her weight. “So.”
“So.”
She glanced toward the chair Skull had been sleeping in. “Can I sit?”
“You drove all the way here. Pretty sure you earned a chair.”
“Such a gentleman.”
“Never claimed to be.”
She pulled the chair closer and sat.
For a few seconds, neither of us said anything.
I didn’t know where to start. That wasn’t normal for me. Usually, if I had something to say, I fucking said it.
But there was too much. Twenty years was too much.
I looked at her hands resting in her lap.
No ring.
“Clint know you’re here?”
“No.”
That surprised me. “You didn’t tell him?”
“Nope.”
“Why?”
“Because then he would’ve called you.”
“So?”
“I wanted to get here first.”
My eyes narrowed. “Why?”
She sighed. “We’re back to that?”
“Yeah.”
“Can we talk about your throat first?” she bargained.
“No.”
“Ash.”
“Ramona.”
“You almost died.”
“And now I’m not.”
“That is not how almost dying works,” she sighed. “You don’t just get to brush it under the rug and act like it didn’t happen while you sit in a hospital bed.”
“Pretty sure it is.”
She stared at me, then she leaned forward and rested her forearms on her knees. “What happened?”
I looked toward the window. I didn’t want to talk about Bernice. The blood. The floor. The pieces of memory that still didn’t fit together. “I got cut.”
“No shit.”
My eyes went back to her.
She lifted one eyebrow and I almost laughed.
“You always this annoying?”
“Yes,” she laughed.
“Good to know.”
“Someone attacked you?”
“Yeah.”
“Who?”
“Don’t know.”
Her forehead wrinkled. “You didn’t see them?”
I looked away. That question wasn’t as easy to answer as it should’ve been. I had memories. Pieces. Nothing I trusted enough to give the club. Nothing I could grab onto and say this was the motherfucker who did it. “I don’t remember enough.”
Ramona went quiet.
I rubbed my thumb against the blanket. “Someone else was there.”
“The person you were protecting?”
I nodded. “Bernice.”
“What happened to her?”
My jaw tightened. “She didn’t make it.”
Ramona didn’t say anything.
That was one thing I’d always liked about her.