Chapter 23
Nova
I’m so exhausted by the time I finally get in the shower that I’m half-afraid I’m going to fall asleep right here, with the hot water beating down on my back.
Part of me wants to close my eyes and let it happen, but I don’t want to risk falling…
or getting woken up by the hot water running out.
I’m not the only person in the clubhouse taking a shower, and the one Layla took right before me was a long one, making a cold shower a real possibility.
I don’t take the risk, forcing myself to wash as quickly as possible, scrubbing at the blood on my hands and arms until the water going down the drain is pink.
Stray’s stable. If it hadn’t been for Frank’s experience, I don’t think he would have made it.
I might be able to handle basic wounds, but removing a bullet…
that’s not something I ever came across as a vet tech.
So that means Patch’s quick thinking is responsible for the Kings not losing one of their men tonight.
I don’t know him and I’m trying really hard not to judge him from his decisions to take Layla to protect her rather than asking for help.
But from what I can see, his heart’s in the right place.
My hands start to shake as the adrenaline finally begins to fade away. Helping Layla clean up and eat sapped the last of my energy but knowing she’s tucked into the bed in the guest room across the hall from mine makes every ache, every second of fatigue, worth it.
I wanted her to stay in my room with me, but she wanted to stay with Patch.
Our compromise is a guest room of her own.
If she wants to have Patch in there with her, there’s really nothing I can do to stop her, but I’m hoping them knowing I’ll hear the door open and close, possibly even hear them, will keep anything from happening until I’m sure he’s right for her.
Good enough for her? Honestly, I’m not sure what, exactly, I’m waiting for.
I’ve met previous boyfriends and she told me the first time she had sex when she was sixteen.
Maybe it’s just because this isn’t happening the way a normal relationship should.
And maybe it’s because I haven’t let myself really examine how I feel about Layla hiding this relationship from me. Worrying about her pushed that fact to the back of my mind, but now that she’s safe, the thoughts are back, along with the hurt and betrayal.
And the guilt. I can’t ignore that either.
It weighs me down as I finish rinsing off.
When Layla got her own place, I was upset and tried to pretend that I wasn’t.
I didn’t realize the distance it put between us until I found out about Patch, and as much as I want to lay all the blame at Layla’s feet for not talking to me about Patch, I know I played my own part in it.
No more.
After what I went through, thinking I lost her, I’m not going to let anything pull us apart again.
If that means we stay up all night talking, I’ll do it.
If I need to wait until she’s processed everything she’s been through, I’ll do that.
Whatever it takes, I’m not letting her out of my life like that again.
Once I dry off and pull on some leggings and an oversized t-shirt, I cross the hall and tap on Layla’s door.
“Come in.”
I find her still in the bed, but she’s sitting up now, her back against the wall, knees tucked against her chest, and her arms wrapped around her legs.
Patch’s hoodie is so big that her hands are lost in the sleeves, but the leggings fit her since I gave her a pair of mine.
Her curls are airdrying and getting a little frizzy, but when she lifts her head to look at me, she just pushes her hair back from her face absently.
“You hungry?” I ask.
Layla shakes her head.
“Can I sit with you?” I twist my fingers together until they hurt while I wait for her answer. I don’t know what I’ll do if she asks me to leave.
She nods. “Is Stray going to be okay?”
I’m startled by her use of his name, but then I realize that she’s actually known the Kings longer than I have. I push down my annoyance and sit next to her, mimicking her pose and letting our knees touch the way I used to when she was little.
“It’s not Damien’s fault,” she whispers.
It takes me a second to realize she’s talking about Patch since none of the MC ever call him by his real name.
“What happened?” I ask the question as gently as I can. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay.”
She shakes her head. “I’m tired of keeping things from you.” A tear rolls down her cheek as she turns her head to look at me. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Patch—I mean, Damien.”
“It’s okay to call him Patch,” I say with a half-smile. “Everyone in the Kings calls him that. I forgot he had another name.”
Layla sniffs and wipes her cheek with her sleeve as she gives me a watery smile. “He’s a great guy, Nova. I was just afraid you wouldn’t give him a chance because he was a prospect for the Kings. I know how you feel about bikers.”
Heat immediately floods my face, and Layla’s eyebrows shoot up.
“Why are you blushing?” she asks. “You never blush. What…”
Her jaw drops and her head turns to the door and then back to me. She does it two more times and it might be funny if I could figure out what to tell her.
“Is something going on with you and one of the Kings?” She covers her mouth with her hands. “Is it Stray?”
“No!” I blurt out the denial and then shake my head. “We’re not talking about me right now.”
Layla’s eyes narrow. “I know you, Nova Reed. That’s how you talk when you’re trying to avoid telling me something you don’t want me to know.”
I sigh. “Look, I promise to tell you about my exciting adventures with the Kings of Ruin after you talk to me about what happened to you.”
“All right,” Layla says, “but I’m going to hold you to it.”
If it’ll keep her sounding more like her old self, I’ll let her interrogate me all night, but I don’t tell her that. Instead, I just make a gesture for her to continue.
“What’s funny is, Patch and I were talking about how and when to tell you about us,” she says, her smile fading.
“We were walking in the park, and he was telling me how he wanted to meet you. I was the one who kept putting it off, but I knew he was right. It was time. We were in the middle of coming up with the best way to handle things when he got a text.”
“From Meridian,” I say.
Layla nods. “You know about that?”
“I know there was a text, and I know basically what it said.”
She presses her lips together, blinking rapidly against the moisture I see in her eyes.
She swallows hard and then clears her throat.
“I was going to be sold. As soon as Patch heard that, he told me he’d protect me, but we had to run and we couldn’t tell anyone what we were doing, not even you.
He said the Meridian Group would come after you if they thought you knew where I was.
I couldn’t put you in danger like that, not when it was my fault. ”
“Your fault?” My eyes widen. It didn’t occur to me until now that she might not know the truth about why she was targeted. “You think Meridian came after you because of the Kings?”
“I thought that,” she says. “But Patch figured out what was really going on. I’m guessing you know, too.”
“Uncle Marty,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Uncle Fucking Marty.” Layla shakes her head. “How did we never see it? I mean, you didn’t, right? It’s not like you knew he was an asshole and kept it from me to protect me, right?”
“No,” I say quickly. “If I knew he was capable of anything like this, I never would’ve let him near you. I probably would’ve come up with some excuse about why he wasn’t coming around anymore, but I wouldn’t have lied and kept him in our lives.”
Layla looks at her hands, a troubled expression on her face. “How long?”
“How long what?”
“How long do you think he’s been planning this?” Her voice is soft. “Maybe not this specifically, but has everything he’s done for us always been about keeping us close in case he needed to use us?”
“When Creed first told me about Uncle Marty’s debts and connection to Meridian, I didn’t want to believe it, but I talked to him a few times after you disappeared and every time, something was off.
I know Cipher’s looking for something solid to prove Uncle Marty sold you—sold us—out to Meridian, but it’s the only thing that makes sense.
” I rest the back of my head against the wall and sigh.
“There’s no other way you or I could’ve gotten on their radar. ”
“So you never thought Patch did something to me?”
“I did at first,” I admit. “And before you blame my dislike of bikers, look at it from my perspective, okay? You go missing, no one’s heard from you, and all your stuff is still in your apartment.
Then I find things that link you to a motorcycle club full of tattooed, scarred, and armed men who look like they eat nails for breakfast?
I don’t think it was really leaping to conclusions at that point. ”
“Fair enough,” she says. “What convinced you that you were wrong about Patch?”
I think back before I answer. “It wasn’t just one thing. I basically forced my way into the compound, but they didn’t throw me out, threaten me, or hurt me. Hell, they didn’t even make disgusting comments.”
Layla’s lips twitch in a partial smile. “I bet that’s changed now that they’re used to you.”
I feel that blush returning. “Not as much as you might think.” I clear my throat and keep going with my story.
“When I found out Patch was missing, too, I did think for a while that he might’ve taken off with you, but everyone said he wasn’t like that and that the two of you always looked happy together. ”
“We were—we are,” Layla says. “I’m not going to lie and say being on the run for the last few weeks has been fun, but he always kept me safe.”
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned about MCs—and especially about the Kings of Ruin—is when one of their members claims a woman as his, they’ll protect that woman no matter what.”
“Well, Patch hasn’t officially claimed me,” Layla says, looking away.
“I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” I say. “He’ll make you his old lady as soon as all this is over.”
“If Creed doesn’t kick him out over—hold on.” Layla turns back to me. “How do you know what they call the women they claim?”
I’m out of time, I realize. I can’t keep putting her off and dancing around that part of my story.
And if I’m honest, I don’t want to keep it from her.
Keeping secrets has put distance between my sister and me, and I’m done with it.
If all this has taught me anything, it’s to not take my relationship with Layla for granted.
“The reason I’ve been staying here is because Meridian’s been after me, too,” I say.
“We saw vehicles driving around the compound. One followed me and Creed back here from the Roadhouse one night. We didn’t know it was Meridian, so we didn’t know if they wanted me to try to get to you, or they wanted to take me too. ”
“Oh, Nova.” Layla reaches over and takes my hands. “You must’ve been terrified. I had Patch, but you were all alone.”
“I was… but only at first.”
Layla’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t speak, clearly waiting for me to explain.
“Me being under the Kings’ protection wasn’t enough,” I say, “so… Creed kinda claimed me.”
“What?” Layla practically screeches the word.
My face is burning again, and Layla stares at me like she’s never seen me before, but I make myself say the words. “I’m Creed’s old lady.”
“Are—are you fucking kidding me?” Layla’s voice is strained. “You have to be kidding. Or it’s just for show. That’s it, isn’t it? Just for show?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. It started out that way, but…”
I let my voice trail off, and then there’s a knock on the door.
Rather than calling out for whoever’s out there to come in, I get off the bed and go to the door, leaving Layla still processing what I said.
When I open the door, no one’s there, but there’s a tray of food on the floor, enough for two, and two bottles of water.
I look down the hall and see Nix and Whizz standing at the end talking.
They look casual, but I know they’re guarding Layla and me.
It should’ve worried me, knowing Creed’s concerned enough to have guards on us, but instead, it just makes me feel… cared for. Protected. Safe.
I bring the tray of food over to the bed, but Layla ignores it. She’s too busy staring at me and I know she’s not going to let this go until I tell her what she wants to know. The problem is, I think she has more questions than I have answers.
“It started off as just an arrangement to keep me safe until they found you and Patch.” I sit on the edge of the mattress. “We only talked and touched in public. In private, Creed acted like he didn’t even want to be around me.”
“But?” Layla prompts.
“But… something changed,” I say. “I don’t know what it means, but yeah, it’s more than just an arrangement with us.”
There’s a minute of silence and then Layla nods. “Okay.”
“Okay?” I echo. “That’s it?”
“I haven’t talked to Creed that much myself,” she says, “but Patch practically worships the man. If you want to be with Creed, you have my blessing.”
“And that has nothing to do with you wanting my blessing for you and Patch,” I say.
Layla gives me a little smirk. “Might have a little to do with it.” Her smile fades. “And maybe it has to do with me not being sure what’s going to happen with Patch. He broke a lot of club rules to save me. They could kick him out for it.”
I reach over and put my hand on her arm, giving it a squeeze. “I’ll talk to Creed, okay?”
She nods. I don’t know if it’s what we’re talking about or my tone or she’s reached her tipping point, but her expression crumples and she begins to cry.
It’s not the same sort of exhausted, terrified crying like when we were in the SUV being chased.
This is a deep, gut-wrenching purging of everything she’s been holding back from the moment Patch told her they had to run.
I don’t ask her to explain or share. I don’t tell her it’s all going to be okay and that it’s over, because I don’t make her promises I don’t know I can keep.
So I do what I’ve always done when she’s cried. I wrap my arms around her and hold her to remind her that she’s not alone.