13
Deacon
Waking up had not made anything easier. It had only made everything hurt in higher definition.
Pain lived in my ribs, shoulder, head, and lungs, a deep pulse that never fully disappeared and only changed shape depending on whether I moved, breathed too hard, or let myself think for longer than a minute.
Machines tracked me like they didn’t trust my body not to change its mind and slip under again while nurses came and went, doctors asked the same questions, and Priest or Ink rotated through the room.
Medication blurred some of the edges, but one thing stayed painfully sharp.
Lila.
She had been the first thing I saw when I came back, and the first thing I wanted once I understood she was real.
In the dark, wherever I had been trapped, wanting her had at least been clean because she belonged to memory, regret, or dreams I couldn’t ruin any further.
Reality put flesh back on the ache. Her voice was older, her eyes tired, and she had looked at me as though she didn’t know whether she wanted me alive or hated herself for being relieved I was.
I understood that look.
Hell, I deserved it.
I was half-dozing, or maybe staring at the ceiling because keeping my eyes closed had begun to feel too much like going backward, when the door opened. Nomad came in first with Ledger behind him, and relief touched both their faces before disappearing beneath the usual Saints restraint.
Nomad carried himself the way he always did, a man who knew exactly how much room he occupied and used every inch on purpose.
Ledger moved quieter, but his presence had its own weight, something that never needed announcing.
Neither made a spectacle of finding me awake.
Saints didn’t do tearful reunions when an insult would cover the same territory.
“Well,” Ledger said as he shut the door, “look who finally decided to stop bein’ dramatic.”
I managed the roughest excuse for a laugh and regretted it immediately when pain knifed through my ribs. “Fuck you too.”
Nomad dragged the chair closer and dropped into it, studying me with narrowed eyes. “You look like shit.”
“Feel worse.”
“That tracks.”
Ledger leaned against the wall near the window and folded his arms. “Church was relieved to hear your stubborn ass finally came back online.”
“Priest let everyone know you were awake,” Nomad added. “Club took it about like you’d expect.”
I grunted because I could picture the scene well enough. Nobody would celebrate while I was still stuck in a hospital bed, but men who had been holding their breath for two weeks would have finally taken one. That mattered more than any speech.
Nomad’s mouth twitched. “There was one interestin’ part after, though.”
Something in his tone pulled my attention toward him. “What?”
“We were headin’ out. Priest had a prenatal appointment with Blue, and Ledger and me were gonna ride over here after.” He settled deeper into the chair, amusement flattening into something colder. “Then Sadie decided she wanted to come visit.”
My whole body hardened before good sense caught up with it. “No.”
Ledger barked out a short laugh. “That was about my reaction.”
“She said it soft too,” Nomad continued. “Like it was the most natural thing in the world. Wanted to come see you. Said it’d feel wrong not to after everythin’.”
“I wouldn’t want that snake anywhere near this room.” The words came out rough enough that my chest protested, forcing me to stop and pull in a careful breath. “I warned Priest about her when she first showed up. Told him somethin’ about her felt off.”
Ledger straightened from the wall. “He ever say why he kept lettin’ it ride?”
I looked toward the ceiling, more tired than thoughtful. Priest had never been difficult for me to understand. Stubborn, yes. Heavy with more guilt than any one man should carry, absolutely. But difficult? No.
“He felt responsible. Not because of Sadie. Because of Cain.” I shifted against the pillow, immediately regretted it, and kept going anyway.
“Cain took Priest under his wing when he was a kid. Tried to teach him better behind Joker’s back and make him into somethin’ other than what Joker was breedin’.
Joker found out and killed Cain right in front of him. ”
Both men went quiet.
“Cain was more of a father to Priest than Joker ever was. Priest has carried that guilt ever since, so Sadie was never about love. Not real love.” My breathing had already started to shorten from talking, but once the explanation was out, I needed to finish it.
“It was duty. Cain died tryin’ to save him, and Priest thinks he owes the man’s daughter whatever help he can give.
Then she showed up pregnant, and that drove the hook deeper because he figured helping that baby land somewhere better than what he and Ace had meant breakin’ one chain Cain died tryin’ to break. ”
Ledger’s jaw shifted. “Yeah.”
“Problem is, somethin’ is wrong with her.
” I let my head sink deeper into the pillow and waited out a dull throb beneath my ribs.
“Not pain or fear. Somethin’ else. She wanted Priest for herself.
Every time Blue was around, Sadie watched her like she was standin’ in the way, and when Blue disappeared…
” I exhaled carefully through my nose. “Sadie was too damn pleased by it. Too interested in fillin’ the space. ”
Nomad nodded slowly. “That lines up.”
“It does,” Ledger agreed. “Didn’t wanna jump there too fast before, but lookin’ back, she wasn’t mournin’ shit. She was workin’ the situation.”
I closed my eyes for a second as exhaustion washed through me. “Priest knows now.”
“Yeah,” Nomad said. “He does.”
Silence settled around us, full without becoming awkward.
The machines continued their steady hum while hospital air moved cold and dry against my skin, and every injury in my body reminded me exactly where I was.
Then Nomad shifted in his chair, and something about the change in his expression made me suspicious immediately.
“What.”
His mouth curved. “Ink says there’s been a pretty little nurse sittin’ vigil beside your bed every night while you were in the coma.”
Ledger pushed away from the wall. “Wanna tell us about her?”
My whole body became too aware too fast. Just hearing them mention Lila brought back the sight of her standing beside this bed, older and real, the woman layered over every version of the girl I remembered. “Yeah. Lila.”
Ledger stopped. “Lila?” His brows climbed. “Your Lila? The one you left behind and talk about all the time?”
I turned toward the window because looking at either of them while her name sat fresh in my mouth felt like asking to be skinned alive. “Yeah. That Lila.”
“What are the damn chances?” Ledger muttered.
My mouth pulled without quite becoming a smile. “Seein’ as this is my hometown, pretty good, I’d suppose.”
Nomad went still.
He leaned back, his expression sharpening. “Your hometown?”
I looked at him.
“We clubbed up two towns over from your hometown,” he said slowly, “and you never told us it was your hometown?”
A tired sigh escaped me. “I left all that behind.”
Ledger gave me a look sharp enough to peel bark. “Woman sittin’ vigil at your bedside every night till she damn near exhausted herself doesn’t sound like you left much behind.”
“I had to.”
The words came harder than I meant them to, and pain followed close behind, but once they were loose there was no dragging them back.
“I had to leave her. Her old man was deputy chief of police, and I was in the local MC. Then I found out shit I was never supposed to know.” My chest tightened as the old reasons came back with ugly clarity.
“If I stayed, it would’ve put both of us in the middle of it.
She would’ve had to choose sides. Could’ve started a war, gotten her hurt, maybe gotten me killed.
And I sure as shit couldn’t tell her what her old man was involved in. She thought that man walked on water.”
The monitor chirped faster.
A sharp ache spread beneath my ribs and climbed into my shoulder, turning the next breath into something I had to work for. Nomad was out of the chair immediately, one hand lifting in warning.
“Easy.”
“I am easy,” I snapped, which would have been more convincing if my next inhale hadn’t hitched badly enough to make the machine complain louder.
“Brother.” Ledger’s humor vanished. “Settle down.”
The door opened before I could find another breath, and a nurse entered with the brisk focus of someone who had already dealt with enough stubborn men for one shift. Her gaze went from the monitor to me, then landed on Nomad and Ledger crowding the room.
“Well,” she said as she reached the bed, “whatever you’re doing, you’re done.”
She checked the lines first, then the monitor, before leaning close enough to listen to my breathing. “You need to calm down. Your heart rate just jumped, and you’re working too hard to breathe.”
“I’m fine.”
Her expression barely changed. “No, you’re not.”
She adjusted the IV and reached for the oxygen mask. “Put this on for a minute.”
I opened my mouth.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Now.”
I took it and held it over my face with enough resentment to make Ledger look away before I saw him laugh. The nurse watched the monitor until the numbers began settling, then turned toward the two men.
“You either keep him calm, or you leave. He’s recovering. This is not the time for excitement.”
Nomad raised a hand. “Understood.”
Ledger nodded. “We got it.”
I would have laughed if breathing didn’t already feel like a group project.
The nurse waited until she was satisfied, then pointed at me. “You. Rest. That’s your job.”
She walked out, leaving behind the particular silence only a nurse could create after reminding a room full of grown men that none of us were in charge.
I let my head sink into the pillow and swallowed against the rawness in my throat. “Hate this place.”
Ledger released a breath through his nose. “Stop nearly dyin’ in dramatic ways and maybe they’ll let you leave.”