Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
I clapped a hand to Trigger’s back. Then, I strode from her hospital room, feeling like I was leaving my soul in that damned room with her.
Maybe I was. She was the only thing capable of making me feel like I had one.
Blayke was sitting in the chapel when I walked in, so I headed straight for him, wanting to find out if he had any new information on Dirk—if there was anything new. So far, the feds were trying to press him, but he didn’t know shit. He was never allowed on the clubhouse grounds.
He was just a fucking weasel that tried to murder my old lady.
“Nothing new,” he told me as soon as I stepped into the room, obviously already having a feeling what I was coming in for. “But I’m thinking they’re going to be moving him to jail until his trial. You ready to discuss a hit? Once he’s in jail, shit should have died down by then—feds aren’t going to want anything to do with him. Got enough people in our pockets there to make it look like he started shit with someone. Or if you want to wait until he goes to prison, we can do it then.”
I shook my head. “Make the hit happen in jail.”
He nodded. “Got it.” He stood to his feet before jerking his head in the direction of the gym. “Come on. You look like you’ve got some shit to get off your shoulders and out of your head.”
Did I fucking ever. So glad these guys new me so damn well.
I stripped my shirt off as soon as we entered the room, tossing it over one of the ropes before I climbed into the boxing ring. Law passed me a pair of gloves. Dom, Geek, and Drew moved to stand around the ring, wanting to watch. Sometimes, we fought as a fun way to bet on each other. Other times, like this time, we did this shit to let the storm raging inside of us die down some.
Blayke didn’t waste a beat. He never did. He swung out. I ducked and sent an uppercut into his abdomen. He grunted but then swung, taking a jab at my side that almost knocked me off balance. I grinned and swung again, hitting him twice in the abdomen before jabbing into his side.
We always did our best to avoid faces unless we were pissed at each other. Then, it was free reign and no gloves. And you walked out of here with whatever broken bones you’d received. But we never let shit simmer between us. We got that shit out of our systems. Tension between brothers never ended well if you let it simmer.
“Fuck you,” Blayke wheezed, hitting me in the same spot again. I grunted, adjusting myself to block that part of me. He danced back on the balls of his feet, cracking his neck. “That all you fucking got, Prez?”
I barked out a laugh and knocked him on his ass.
A small groan jerked me out of my sleep, my hand immediately reaching for the gun hidden by my cut. I snapped my eyes open, but nothing was out of place and no one was in the room. The door was still shut, and the light over by the bathroom was still on, casting the room in a soft, yellow glow that barely permeated the space.
Another small groan had me jerking my head toward Aaliyah’s hospital bed. Her eyes were slowly fluttering open, her fingers twitching, no doubt stiff. I quickly lurched from my chair, my heart thumping wildly in my chest.
She was waking up.
Holy fucking shit.
Finally.
I quickly pressed the button for the nurse before grabbing her fingers in mine. “Aaliyah, baby, can you hear me?”
She moaned softly in acknowledgment before her eyes slowly slit open. Slowly, so fucking slowly, she raised her left hand and patted the tubes inserted into her nostrils to help her breathe. I quickly grabbed her hand. “Easy, Red. Let the doctor and nurse come in to remove them,” I coaxed. “You’re okay.”
She tried moving her right hand, and her face scrunched up in discomfort. My heart dropped to my feet, but I kept my mask in place so she wouldn’t see the worry for her in my eyes. I needed to be strong. The doctor had warned me that due to the lack of oxygen to her brain, there may be some changes she’ll be faced with when it comes to bodily movement as well as thinking.
If she couldn’t move her right hand, then that was a sure sign she was about to spend the forseeable future in physical therapy.
But no matter what, I would never leave her fucking side. She was mine, and even if she lost some of her bodily functions for the rest of her life, I’d still never choose anyone else.