Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Allora
I wake up gradually, noise from the corridor pulling me from slumber.
I slept better than I thought I would. Probably because when I opened my eyes in the middle of the night I saw Landon dozing in the chair next to me.
Even though the nurse told him to leave. Even though he doesn’t owe me anything.
But he stayed.
And I slept.
Now my bladder is demanding attention and I sit up.
Landon immediately blinks awake. “You okay?” he asks, eyes meeting mine.
“I have to use the bathroom,” I say. “But I’m hooked to the IV.”
“Let me get a nurse.” He’s instantly on his feet, disappearing into the hallway.
As I’m waiting, I realize I’m hungry. Like, really hungry. They asked me if I wanted to eat last night in the ER but I was too nauseated. This morning, I’m ravenous.
“Good morning.” A nurse I haven’t seen before comes in. “I hear you need to go potty. Let me disconnect the IV so you can take care of business.”
Potty? What am I, five?
“Did I sleep through breakfast?” I ask instead, slowly swinging my legs over the side of the bed.
“Not at all. It’ll be here in a few.”
“Thank you.” I cautiously get to my feet and am gratified that I don’t feel dizzy. Just hungry and exhausted. The exhaustion is probably more mental than physical but it’s hard to distinguish them at this point.
I pad into the bathroom and close the door, taking a moment to lean against it.
With the door shut, it’s quiet, much quieter than in my room, and it’s a little eerie.
It was so quiet in the place they kept me for nearly two days.
No sounds of other people in the building, no cars or weather, just complete silence. Except when the men were there.
But I’m not thinking about that now.
I sink onto the toilet and try to breathe.
I count to ten after I wash my hands and face, inhaling and exhaling rhythmically.
There’s a toothbrush, which is the sweetest gift in the world after the last two days, and I spend an extra few minutes brushing my teeth.
As if that will somehow wash away some of the dirt that’s more internal than external.
My body feels disgusting and I plan to shower as soon as I’m allowed, but my soul feels gross too.
And I don’t know how I’ll ever get that clean.
Leaning with my hands flat on the counter, I finally lift my head to look in the mirror. The woman staring back at me is wary. Drained. Bruised. But her eyes are sharp. Resilient.
Because I’m alive.
I survived and I will always survive.
I may have walked away from the MC lifestyle but I was raised by a tough-as-nails man and a woman who took no shit from anyone.
My mother wasn’t your typical club wife.
She worked as a professor at the local community college, she had friends and a busy social life that wasn’t just about the club, and she kept my father reined in.
To a degree. I know he did things she didn’t approve of but he loved her completely, protected us fiercely, and the only time I ever saw him cry was when the doctors told us she was gone after a very brief bout with cancer.
The Sterlings are a tough lot, including me.
So, I steel myself and lift my head, even when the bruises make me wince.
I will get past this.
I just have to survive these first few days.
Once I get back to my life—back to work—it’ll be easier. I’ll find a therapist, maybe take a week and go to a wellness retreat with my friend Lacy, and then try to put this behind me.
Landon is gone when I walk back into the room but someone delivered a hot tray of food and the smell of coffee makes my mouth water. Without hesitation, I sit on the bed and pull the tray table close, opening the lid of the covered dish.
Pancakes.
Bacon.
Coffee.
Fruit.
Heaven.
I pop a grape in my mouth and then add the little container of cream to my coffee. It’s not enough but it will do. I smother the pancakes in butter, dump the entire container of syrup on them, and take a massive bite. Just as I’ve put it in my mouth, a man I don’t recognize walks into my room.
And he’s huge.
Landon is big but this guy is…massive.
Suddenly I freeze, alarmed.
Did they send someone after me?
“Hi.” He smiles, pausing in the doorway. “My name is Elliott. I was with Gr—er, Landon last night. I don’t know if you ever saw my face.”
No, but I heard his voice and it’s familiar.
My body automatically relaxes.
“Yes, I think so. Everything is fuzzy.”
“Landon needed a shower and food, so I’m staying here until he gets back. We don’t want you to be alone. Just in case.”
I arch my brows. “Just in case what?”
He frowns. “Uh, is it okay if I sit down? If you’re not comfortable, I can stay outside.”
I scowl. “Yes, you can sit down. And I’m not some fragile china doll. Tell me what’s going on.”
Oops. I probably shouldn’t take out my irritation on him. None of this is his fault.
Ironically, he just smiles and sinks into the chair Landon occupied all night.
“You saw their faces,” he says in a voice that’s far too gentle for such a mountain of a man.
And why does he look so familiar?
“Where do I know you from?” I ask abruptly, ignoring what he said because I just don’t have it in me to deal with that. “And it’s not from last night.”
He hesitates. “Are you into MMA?”
That’s it.
“Oh my God. You’re Rage the Cage.” I inadvertently clap a hand over my mouth.
He chuckles. “I was, yes.”
“Holy shit. And now you’re a bodyguard with Landon?”
“Yes.”
“You were so badass.”
“I honestly don’t know many women who were into it enough to recognize me.”
“You were Heavyweight champion…two years in a row?”
“Three.” He grins and his smile is almost as charming as Landon’s.
“We used to watch when I was in college. There was a whole group of us and we’d go to a bar to watch the fights. You and Thugmaster were my favorites.”
He chuckles. “Thug was a cool guy. We were really good friends, despite how hard we went at it in the ring. Sadly, he passed away a few years ago in a car accident.”
“I saw that.”
He leans forward, cocking his head slightly. “So, how are you feeling?”
“Hungry,” I say, going back to my breakfast. I pop a piece of bacon in my mouth. “Oh, this is so bad it’s good.”
He laughs. “Hospital food isn’t the best.”
“After two days with nothing but water, I’ll eat almost anything. Although…” I stare down at my almost empty plate. “I don’t think this is going to be enough.”
“I can text Landon and ask him to bring you something?”
“Oh! That would be awesome. I can give him money when—” I cut off abruptly.
I don’t have money because my debit card was also in my purse.
“Fuck. I don’t have access to money. I can’t even go to the bank because my ID is gone.
Motherfucker.” I put my fork down with a thump and syrup drips off the utensil and onto the tray table.
“I don’t think coffee and a breakfast sandwich are going to bankrupt him.” He smiles as he types into his phone. “Name your poison.”
I pause, hesitant to take anything more from these guys, but my father can lend me money. And I have plenty of my own—I just need to be able to get it.
“Is it early enough for McDonald’s? Because a sausage, egg, and cheese biscuit would be the best breakfast ever right now.”
“Don’t give it another thought.” He continues typing on his phone, and I essentially lick the plates in front of me clean.
I don’t ever remember being this hungry. Not even when I was modeling and trying to remain underweight.
I’ve just wiped my mouth when a doctor comes in. She’s middle-aged and attractive, with a sharp gaze but a friendly smile.
“Good morning. How are you today?”
“I think I’m mostly operational,” I say, looking at my empty tray.
“I see you have your appetite back.”
“Definitely.”
“There’s no reason to keep you here any longer, so I’m going to sign your discharge orders. Physically, you have no restrictions, but I highly recommend you don’t go home alone. I think you’ll need emotional support for a while.”
I pull in a deep breath and nod. “Yes, thank you. I have friends and family.”
She nods, types something on her computer and then looks up. “Do you have any questions for me?”
Do I?
I have millions of questions but none that she can answer so I shake my head. “No, I think I’m good.”
“Well, please reach out if you think of anything. I’ll get your discharge papers ready to go, but it will probably be a few hours.”
“Thank you.”
I watch her leave and then push the tray table away. “I need clothes.”
Elliott nods. “Your father mentioned he has a spare key—maybe you could make a list for him?”
Having my father go through my stuff feels weird, but the only other option would be for me to leave the hospital in what I arrived in—and that’s not happening. I never want to see those clothes again.
“Good morning.” Landon comes in with two bags—one from McDonald’s and the other from JC Penney. “I hope you don’t mind but I stopped at the store. Figured you’d want to wear something clean and new after your shower.”
His thoughtfulness makes my chest tighten, but I’m incredibly grateful.
“Thank you,” I say, taking both bags.
I rummage through the one from JC Penney and find yoga pants, two generic T-shirts, a pack of white bikini underwear, a pack of ankle socks, and a sports bra. There’s also a box of what appear to be Keds sneakers. Simple, not cheap but not expensive, and all in my size. Like he knows me.
It’s very considerate while simultaneously a little weird.
“These are perfect,” I murmur. “I appreciate it, Landon. Now if they’ll let me shower. But maybe I’ll wait and take one when I get home and have all my stuff.”
There’s a weird silence before Landon says, “Allora, you can’t go home.”
“The doctor said—”
“I don’t mean you can’t leave the hospital. You just can’t go to your actual residence.”
“What? Why not?”
“They know where you live and you’ve seen their faces.”
The meaning of his words starts to sink in. We talked about this, I think, but I don’t remember many details.
And I forgot all about those parts of the conversation.
“Where am I supposed to go?” I demand, sinking back on the bed and holding the bag of clothes protectively against my chest.
“That’s what we need to talk about.”