26. Orion
Orion
Mars and I are bent over my bike, working on the throttle while discussing Arden–and the fact that she’s a ticking time bomb–when Rookie comes skidding into the garage.
“Dutch needs you. It’s Arden,” he says simply.
That’s all it takes. Mars and I drop everything and sprint after him, tearing into the sunshine of the driveway and joining the rest of our men.
Everyone is rushing to the left, up toward the diner and bakery, but I outpace them all, shoving my way to the front of the crowd.
Ahead, I see Dutch standing over one of the Saints, shaking out his fist and giving the man a piece of his mind, and in front of them...
Fucking hell.
Arden on the ground, Taryn crouched over her.
A Saint on the ground behind them, Dutch’s knuckles bleeding from where he punched the guy.
I don’t need to know the whole story. Hell, I don’t even need to know where Arden’s been or why Taryn’s involved in this. I just have to get to my girl. I increase my speed to an all-out sprint and arrive in half a second, skidding to Arden’s side and taking her wrist.
I put my fingers to her pulse and look up at Taryn. “What happened?”
The girl doesn’t mince words. “We were at the cafe and the Saints came in. Arden got sick. We got out here and this guy started bothering us and she fainted.”
Good girl. Exactly the information I need, and nothing more. I scoop Arden into my arms, turn, and make for the house, leaving the Saints to my club and Taryn to Mars. I’m sure he’ll have more questions for her, but I don’t need to hear them. I’ve never needed all the information the way Mars does.
I just want to get my girl back to her bed, under her blankets, and safe.
I need to know that she’s okay before I bother figuring out which of the Saints I’m going to kill first.
Hours later, I walk out onto the porch with two tumblers of whiskey and hand one to my best friend. Then I go back for the bottle. When I return, Mars glances at the bottle and gives me a tired, resigned grin.
“Think it’s gonna be a long night?”
“Think it’s gonna be a night where I need to be drunk,” I reply.
He sighs. “The doc didn’t get anything out of her?”
“No more than last time. She’s had fainting spells but she’s fine.
She won’t tell him her medical history. He thinks she’s dehydrated and tired.
Says he can’t force her to tell him anything more than she is, and he can’t test her for anything if he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be looking for. ”
Mars puts his hands over his face and rubs, and when he takes them away he looks like he’s aged about ten years in the last three hours. “This girl is going to be the death of us.”
I pause, my mind running through all the possible responses to that, and try to figure out whether I should say anything. Because I’ve had thoughts since Arden fainted again.
Thoughts I don’t like.
And I’m not sure I can keep them to myself.
“Or we’re going to be the death of her,” I finally say. My voice sounds broken and defeated. Frightened.
I sound like a kid who’s just realized he has to put his dog down.
Mars responds more quickly than I expected. “Yeah. If she’s this sick...”
“... Maybe we need to get her home, where they can look after her,” I finish.
I should have known Mars was thinking the same thing I am. I started this whole adventure saying we needed to send her home, but my reasoning was different. I thought she’d be safer there, away from the men who were trying to hurt her.
I never realized that she might actually be too sick to stay in Wood.
But now that I know that, the idea of keeping her here feels wrong. If staying here is hurting her, then keeping her would be selfish.
Something we were doing for our own reasons, rather than her own good.
But the thought of sending her away feels like it’s breaking me clean down the center, and I’m not sure that’s any better.
“I’m not sure I can let her go,” I whisper.
“That makes two of us.”
We don’t say anything else. Just sit there drinking our whiskey without making any decisions. I don’t know where we go from here. I don’t know how we manage to keep her safe or healthy or even alive.
But I know that sending her away will break all three of us.
And I know that Mars and I have both just admitted to the same thing.
We’ve started imagining a future with her in it, and the possibility of giving that up is almost unbearably painful.