Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LUCIFER
It’s amazing how many things you can learn about a person when you share a meal with them, and they let their guard down, exposing themselves in the most natural way. I learned a lot about Jess, starting with her love for pickles.
When I suggested I grab takeout from the barbecue place near the hospital, I asked if there was anything she particularly wanted. Still, instead of giving me her order, she told me she wasn’t a picky eater and that I should surprise her.
So, of course, I ordered two of everything, and while I attacked the brisket, she chowed down on both orders of fried pickles. I was taken aback by how much satisfaction I got from watching her enjoy her food, and I feared feeding her would become my new obsession.
But the pickles were just the start.
After we finished our food, I discovered Jess also had a fondness for Wheel of Fortune.
I, myself, was more of a Family Feud guy, but there was something to be said about watching Jess shout out letters to the TV.
She was better than all three of the contestants, and when I called her out on it, she revealed another fact.
“When I was a kid, I loved puzzles. Crosswords and word searches were my favorite. I had an aunt who would sometimes watch me, and she always took me to the dollar store to buy word search books. We’d make a game of it.
She’d do one puzzle, and I another, and whoever found all the words on their puzzle first won. ”
“You had an aunt who did word search puzzles with you, and I had an uncle who took me to his yard and taught me how to shoot a can. We’re very different people.”
“I can solve a puzzle in less than a minute.”
“I can fire a shot and put a bullet between someone’s eyes in less than thirty seconds,” I returned, instantly regretting the admission. The girl already saw me as a fucking monster—there was no need to list my sins.
“My aunt and your uncle would be so proud of us.”
The tension left, and I laughed. That’s when I learned Jess had a dark sense of humor.
Sandy came in a little while later to say goodbye, and when she left, things got quiet. Part of me wondered if that was because nightfall was coming, and we both knew the nightmares weren’t far behind.
I noticed then, too, that she was losing steam. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she yawned a few times.
“You should get some rest,” I said as I started to collect the takeout containers. “I’ll get out of your hair.”
Jess’s eyes darted to the clock on the wall. “Will you come back in the middle of the night?”
The two o’clock hour, when her nightmares tended to come, was over six hours away.
If I left now, it would still take me two plus hours to travel back and forth, which gave me four hours to myself.
I thought about all the things I could do with that time—things with the club that needed my attention.
Truth be told, I was neglecting a lot of my responsibilities.
I could also get laid. Finding a saddle bunny to fuck for a couple of hours wouldn’t be hard, and Lord knows, I was overdue.
But none of those things seemed appealing to me, which was a real fucking problem, considering I couldn’t remember the last time I got off.
“Or you could just stay,” Jess said, averting my attention back to her.
She was no longer staring at the clock. Instead, those pretty eyes of hers were watching me mull over her suggestion.
“I mean, if you want. I’ll probably fall asleep, and I’m sure there are other things you prefer to be doing than sitting in that chair.
I just . . . forget it. It was a stupid idea. ”
It wasn’t a stupid idea, but it was a fucking dangerous one because if she only knew the things I wanted, she wouldn’t have suggested I stay.
“Thanks for dinner,” she quickly added, forcing a smile. “It was the best meal I’ve had in two months.”
“I’ll stay.”
Surprise flickered across her face. “Are you sure? I don’t?—”
“I’m sure. I’m just going to get rid of our garbage and run down to the cafeteria to get some coffee. You want anything? I can try to see if there’s any chocolate pudding floating around.”
That earned me a flash of her smile, and the sight made me feel victorious.
“No, I’m good. Thanks.”
I nodded and headed out of her room. When I returned with the coffee, Jess was sound asleep.
I watched her for a good while, until my mind ran away from me and I started to imagine how it would feel to lie beside her in bed.
How it would feel to wake up in the middle of the night and reach for her.
I didn’t sleep with women. I fucked them and sent them on their way, but I really wanted to sleep with my wife.
I wanted her to be the last thing I saw when I closed my eyes, and the first thing I saw when I opened them again the next morning.
So, that’s what I did. I stared at her until I fell asleep in the chair, and when she woke in the middle of the night, haunted by another nightmare, I held her hand and counted with her until she fell back asleep.
Before I left, I went down to the gift shop and grabbed a word search book. She was still sleeping when I made my way back to her room, so I left the book on the rolling table beside her bed.
Later that day, I got a text from her. There were no words, just a photo of a completed word search.
I didn’t respond. Things had gone south with the club regarding Rodeo Roundup. With our insurance claim having been denied, the rebuild was all on us.
But even with the money coming in from the Satan’s Knights, it didn’t cover the expenses. They weren’t taking the guns fast enough, and even if they wanted to, we didn’t have enough on hand to meet their demands. This led to us having to shop for additional suppliers.
Our options were limited, though. Oklahoma wasn’t ideal for transporting overseas, which made getting guns from Mexico more appealing. A couple of us would have to cross the border, and finding time to do that was an issue with Shadow’s wedding to Della looming over us.
When it became clear I wasn’t going to reach a solution to our problems, I took off for the hospital. I made a pit stop for food, opting for burgers.
Jess was sitting in the chair in the corner of her room when I arrived.
She was dressed in another pair of loose-fitting pants, but instead of pairing them with her hospital gown, she wore a long-sleeved T-shirt.
Her hair was combed and fell around her shoulders in loose waves.
Her face bare except for some lip gloss.
She looked young, and really fucking pretty.
“Did you eat dinner yet?” I asked, not bothering with a hello.
“They don’t bring dinner for another hour.”
“Good, then I’m just in time.” I placed the bag of food on the table next to her bed and made my way over to her. “Do you want me to set it up over here, or are you more comfortable eating in bed?”
She looked bewildered, and I really didn’t blame her. I went from avoiding her and creeping out of her room before she could wake, to bringing her dinner two nights in a row. I was giving myself whiplash.
“Over here is fine. Marcus has to help me back to bed, and he’s with other patients.”
An irrational sense of jealousy washed over me. I knew Marcus was her physical therapist, and that he was just doing his job, but I wasn’t fond of her having to rely on another man to help her to bed.
Another sign that I was in way over my fucking head, but I ignored it and unpacked our dinner. We ate in silence for a while, then I asked her about her day. She told me she walked some more, and spoke with Tori, who said she’d be coming to visit tomorrow.
That’s when I decided I would spend the night again. If Tori was going to be there to keep her company the following day, there was no reason for me to show my ugly mug until later the next night.
After dinner, Marcus came into the room, and instead of Sandy helping him get Jess to bed, I did.
The next night, when I returned to the hospital, Jess was asleep. I took my post in the chair beside her bed and waited for the nightmare to come, but it never came.
It’s been a week since she’s had one, and while that should provide some sort of relief, it doesn’t because I know it’s only a matter of time before she tells me to get lost.
Last night she made me leave before she even fell asleep.
I didn’t like it. In fact, I fucking hated it, and I don’t know if that’s because I didn’t know what to do with myself or if I just didn’t like being apart from her.
“You don’t have to keep bringing me dinner,” she says as I unpack the sushi I picked up.
And there it fucking is . . .
I slam the chopsticks down on the table a little too hard. The plastic snaps against the surface, and Jess flinches.
“You gotta eat, right?” I say, my voice coming out rougher than I intend. “Hospital food is shit. You said so yourself last week.”
Jess stares at me, her lips parted, and I can see the war behind her eyes—the one where she’s trying to figure out why I’m being such a dick.
Good luck, babe.
“I just . . .” She trails off, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t want you to feel obligated.”
“Obligated.” My jaw clenches as I let the word sit between us for a beat. “You think that’s what this is?”
In the beginning, I was grappling with my guilt, and I did feel obligated to do everything in my power to help her, including the late-night visits. But bringing dinner and watching random game shows with her—I don’t do that shit out of obligation.
I don’t even do it out of obsession.
“I don’t know what this is, Lucifer. I appreciate the company, but surely there are other things you’d rather be doing.”
The anger flares hot and fast, burning through my chest like a lit fuse.
I want to tell her that there are a thousand things I’d rather be doing, but the lie gets stuck somewhere between my brain and my mouth.
The truth is, there isn’t a single goddamn thing on this earth I want more than to be right here, in this shitty hospital room, watching her pick at a California roll.
And that’s what pisses me off.
Not the fact that she’s trying to give me an out. It’s me. It’s the fact that I’ve spent my entire life building walls around me, only for this tiny, scarred, too-pretty-for-her-own-good woman—to poke cracks in every single one of them without even trying.
“You know I don’t get you,” she says, her voice steady. “You’re nothing like the man I thought you were.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Jess doesn’t flinch at my tone. If anything, she straightens up in her chair, and I catch a glimpse of the spine that’s been hiding under all that vulnerability.
“Well, before the fire, you barely ever looked at me. You wouldn’t even let me serve you when you came into the bar.
You’d always wave me off and ask for someone else.
And now—” She gestures around the room, at the takeout containers, the stack of word search books on her nightstand, and the chair I’ve parked my ass in night after night.
“Now, because I’m basically an invalid, you’re here every night even though the nightmares have stopped. ”
“You’re not a fucking invalid.” I take a step toward her, then stop myself because I don’t trust what I’ll do if I get any closer. “You’re getting stronger every day. You’re walking more and more. I’ve seen it.”
Something shifts in her expression.
“Actually, that’s true,” she says quietly. “The doctor visited today. He said I might be able to go home soon.”
The floor drops out from under me.
“What?”
“It all depends on how the next few PT sessions go, but Dr. Patel thinks I can be discharged by the end of the month.” Jess is watching me carefully now, her head tilted slightly to the side. “They want to make sure I can handle stairs and basic daily stuff on my own before they discharge me.”
“So, you’re done with surgeries then?”
“I won’t know if I need more surgeries until my scars mature, but that’s something that can be monitored while I continue with my outpatient therapy.”
“Does Tori know this?’
She shakes her head. “I tried calling her, but she couldn’t really talk while she was working.”
A million questions flood my brain at once, all of them colliding and tangling together until I can’t grab hold of a single coherent thought. I try to sort through them, but the first one that makes it past my lips is the one that matters least.
“Are there stairs in your apartment?”
Jess blinks at me. “Well, not in the apartment itself, but it’s on the second floor. There’s a staircase in the building.”
“So, how are you going to manage that?”
She stares at me as if I’ve grown a second head.
“Didn’t you hear what I said? They won’t release me until I can manage the stairs on my own.
That’s literally the whole point of the PT sessions.
” Her brows furrow, and I watch the confusion in her eyes harden into something sharper.
“Why does it seem like you’re mad?” she asks.
“Did you want me to be trapped here for the rest of my life?”
“No. Of course not.” The words come out clipped, defensive, and I hate the way they sound.
But I can’t control myself.
The moment she walks out of this hospital, everything changes. She’ll go back to her life or try to rebuild what’s left of it, and I don’t know where that leaves me. Am I supposed to show up at her door with takeout and word search books? Tori will fucking throw me out on my ass.
Am I supposed to go back to pretending she doesn’t fucking exist?
My days are numbered, and I don’t fucking like it.