Fallen Star (Fallen Lords MC 2nd Gen #2)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Star

Pain dragged me up out of the dark.

It wasn’t sharp. Not at first. It was dull and heavy, like my head had been wrapped in wet wool and squeezed. The kind of pain that pulsed instead of screamed.

I groaned, or at least I thought I did. The sound barely made it past my throat.

Where…?

The room was dim, washed in soft gray light that didn’t quite come from anywhere specific. It took a second for my eyes to focus, and even then, everything swam. Shadows blurred at the corners, stretching and shrinking when I blinked. My head throbbed harder when I tried to think, so I stopped.

Hospital.

The smell hit me next. Clean, sharp, and unmistakable. Antiseptic and plastic and something faintly metallic. Underneath it all was a hum of machines, maybe. A steady beeping somewhere close, like it was keeping time for my breathing.

I lay there, staring at the ceiling tiles. Off-white. Maybe beige. They had tiny cracks in them that looked like veins if you stared too long.

My body felt… wrong.

Heavy. Like every inch of me had been bruised and then pressed too hard. My stomach was the worst. A deep, sick soreness that made me instinctively draw my knees just a fraction closer before I realized moving hurt too much to be worth it.

My head throbbed again but sharper this time.

I swallowed and winced when even that pulled pain through my skull.

Okay.

Hospital.

Hurt.

Alive.

That last one mattered.

I tried to move my hands and managed a weak twitch of my fingers. The sheet rustled slightly.

I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for a wave of nausea to pass.

When I opened them again, I noticed something else.

I was alone.

That… wasn’t right.

The rare few times I’d surfaced, there had always been someone there. My mom. Alice. Karmen. One of the girls sitting too close to the bed, whispering like I might break if they spoke too loudly.

But now the chair beside my bed was empty.

No purse on the floor. No jacket draped over the back. No low murmurs or hushed voices.

Just the hum of machines and the faint squeak of rubber soles somewhere down the hallway.

Panic fluttered in my chest, weak but insistent.

Mom?

My throat felt raw when I tried to speak. Dry. Like I’d been breathing sand.

Water.

God, I needed water.

I licked my lips and tasted nothing. Not even saliva. My tongue felt thick and useless in my mouth.

I turned my head slowly, every inch of movement sending another ripple of pain through my skull. The bedside table was pushed off to the side. Too far. On it sat a plastic cup and an empty pitcher, mocking me.

And the call button.

It wasn’t clipped to my bed like I vaguely remembered. It sat on a small table closer to the door.

Too far away.

I stared at it for a long moment and weighed my options. The idea of calling out for a nurse seemed impossible. My voice felt like it might shatter if I tried.

So I did the only thing that made sense in my foggy, stubborn brain.

I moved.

It took everything I had just to shift my weight toward the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped under me, and the room tilted alarmingly. I paused with my breathing shallow and waited for the wave of dizziness to pass.

It didn’t really.

I swung my legs over the side anyway.

The moment my feet touched the floor, pain exploded up my body like a warning flare. My knees buckled, and I grabbed blindly for the bed to keep myself upright.

The door opened.

I startled so hard my vision flashed white.

“What are you doing?”

The voice was deep. Gruff. Familiar in a way that made my heart stutter.

I looked up.

Cole stood in the doorway.

For a second, I just stared at him, and my brain lagged behind what my eyes were seeing.

He filled the frame. Broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his dark shirt with his cut over top, and his muscled arms were thick and solid. His hair was rumpled like he’d dragged his hands through it one too many times, and dark stubble shadowed his jaw.

Even through the haze of pain, I noticed how tired he looked.

There were shadows under his eyes. His mouth was set in a hard line, like he’d forgotten how to relax it. He looked… worn. Like someone who hadn’t slept properly in days.

And still, because apparently my brain hated me, even half-broken and dizzy, I couldn’t help but think he was handsome.

Ridiculously so.

I opened my mouth to answer him.

Nothing came out.

Part of that was shock. Cole wasn’t the person I’d expected to see. If I’d expected anyone at all. And part of it was the fact that I hadn’t really spoken in… how long?

A week?

My throat burned when I tried again.

“Uh,” I croaked. My voice sounded wrong. Too rough. Like it didn’t belong to me. “Um. Water.”

His eyes flicked to the empty pitcher on the table, then back to me. “Stay there,” he ordered.

I blinked at him.

“I can get it for you.”

“I—” I tried to argue, but my tongue felt thick and clumsy. “I was just—”

Before I could finish the sentence, he crossed the room in three long strides. He grabbed the empty pitcher, and then he was gone again, already turning out the door.

I stood there, swaying slightly, and stared at the space he’d just vacated.

What…?

None of this made sense.

Cole? Here? In my hospital room?

I eased myself back onto the edge of the bed before my legs gave out completely. My hands trembled, and I tried to make my thoughts line up in some kind of order.

Attacked. Parking lot. Pain. Darkness.

Faces flashed in my mind too fast to grab hold of. A blow to my head. Pressure in my stomach that stole my breath. Panic clawed at my chest.

I swallowed and forced myself to focus on the present before my heart could race itself into another problem.

The door opened again.

Cole was back, carrying the now-full pitcher. He shut the door softly behind him, like he didn’t want the sound to echo.

“Uh,” I said, my voice a little steadier now that I’d used it once. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t look at me as he set the pitcher down and grabbed the cup. “Getting you water.”

He poured carefully. When he finished, he turned toward me with the cup in his hand. “Sit back, and you can have it.”

I blinked at him rapidly. “I don’t want to sit back,” I argued.

His jaw tightened just a fraction. “You’re tired, and you need to rest.”

I let out a soft huff that might’ve been a laugh if it hadn’t ended in another yawn. My mouth stretched wide before I could stop it, and my eyes watered.

I snapped my lips shut, annoyed. “I pretty much just slept for a week.”

He arched a brow.

“I’m only sitting back because I want a drink,” I insisted. “Not because I’m tired.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cole smirked.

The sight of it did something strange to my chest.

I eased myself back against the pillows with a grumble and adjusted until my head was supported without sending another spike of pain through my skull. Cole stepped closer, and he handed me the cup.

I wrapped both hands around it, and my mouth watered.

The first sip was heaven.

Cold water slid down my throat, and I drank slowly, careful not to make myself sick, but I didn’t stop until I’d swallowed half the cup.

While I drank, Cole moved.

He pulled the rolling table closer to the bed, positioning it where I could set the cup down easily. Then he dragged the chair closer and sat down heavily.

He leaned back, crossed his arms, and his eyes never left my face.

I swallowed again and set the cup down. “Where is my mom?”

Cole exhaled through his nose. “Hopefully sleeping in her own bed. Took everything Alice and Karmen had to convince her to leave last night. She only did when they promised one of the Lords would be here to watch over you.”

“Lords?” I asked, frowning.

“The MC, babe.” He paused. “Me.”

I nodded automatically, but my brain lagged behind his words. None of it clicked into place the way it should have.

Why him?

I wrinkled my brow and set the glass on the table. “Why?”

Cole smirked and kicked his legs up, resting his boots against the metal frame of my bed like he owned the place. “To make sure you’re safe.” His eyes softened for just a second before hardening again. “They still haven’t found the guys who jumped you in the parking lot.”

Something about his tone sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with fear.

“The police are still looking for them?” I asked quietly.

Cole let out a short, humorless chuckle. “Yeah. I’m sure they’re doing their own kind of looking.” His mouth curved in a way that wasn’t a smile. “But we’ll find them before they do.”

The room felt heavier after that.

My eyelids started to droop without my permission. The fog crept back in, thick and warm. I yawned again.

Cole noticed immediately.

“You should get some rest, babe,” he said, his voice lower now. “I’ll make sure nothing happens.”

I wanted to tell him I was fine. That I didn’t need watching. That I wasn’t some fragile thing that needed guarding.

But the truth was… I wasn’t fine.

My head still hurt. My body still ached. And the safety of knowing someone solid and steady was right there made it harder to fight the pull of sleep.

“I’ll just close my eyes for a bit,” I murmured. “But I’m not sleeping.”

Cole raised both hands in surrender. “Sure, sure. Just resting your eyes.”

I meant to argue again. I really did.

But my head sank back into the pillow, and the last thing I felt before the dark pulled me under was the weight of his gaze on me.

As sleep claimed me, my thoughts tangled around one question.

Why him?

Why was Cole the one sitting here?

But before I could find an answer, all I could see were his dark brown eyes, and then nothing at all.