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“No. I’ll do everythin’ in my power to make sure nothin’ like this ever happens to you again. I’m done waitin’, Pixie. You’re mine. I’m claimin’ you as my ol’ lady,” he says, finally getting off the couch he’s sitting on and making his way closer to me.
I nod my head in response. There’s nothing I want more in this world. Trax is the man I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. I’ll share all my firsts with him and we’ll make this work. It doesn’t matter if we fight or argue, we’ll always come back to one another. Just like my parents. I’m not letting go of him either.
Trax finally takes the last step to my bed and sits down in the chair my mom vacated. He holds my hand and rubs his thumb across the back of it. Pain, regret, and terror flit across his eyes as he takes in my appearance. Looks I never want to see on his face again. As much as he wants to protect me, I want to protect him just as much.
“Got a lot to figure out,” I whisper, my voice not getting any louder than that.
“We’ll get there. We got all the time in the world to do that,” he responds, leaning down to press a soft, careful kiss against the back of my hand.
For the next few minutes, we spend in silence looking at one another. The doctors interrupt us and go over the injuries I sustained at the hands of Peter. Shock and pain fill me as I listen to the list. Fear fills me as I’m told I had a seizure in the ambulance. But, I’m reassured I’ll be going to have more tests done tomorrow to see if they can tell if it was a one-time occurrence based on my injuries or if I’ll have to give up my license and be put back on medicine for them. It feels as if I’m taking a huge step back and this is going to be a way for my parents to try and take me home with them instead of letting me stay here with Trax.
By the time the doctors leave, my family is making their way back in to see me. Trax moves back to his spot against the wall so my parents can be surrounding the bed. I listen to them talk about nonsense to take my mind off everything I just went through and will continue to go through for a while. I have a long road ahead of me until I’m healed. Especially if I have to have another surgery because of my knee. It’s still too soon for them to determine how bad the injury is. I’ve been out of it for four days now and the swelling hasn’t even begun to go down enough for them to get a good look inside.
When it’s close to calling hours being over with, my parents and siblings decide they’re going to head to the hotel for some rest. Now that I’m awake, they’re comfortable with leaving me. Especially knowing Trax isn’t going anywhere. I’ll also have guards outside in the hall. Both Wild Kings and Fallen Brethren will be watching over me until I leave here. Even though I don’t know anyone from the Fallen Brethren MC, I trust them already. They’re members of my brother’s club and if he didn’t trust them, he wouldn’t still be there.
Trax takes the chair over again as soon as everyone else has left. He lays his head down on my bed and takes my hand in his. Before too long, he’s sleeping. I continue to watch him as the pain medicine I’ve been given takes effect and I join him in slumber.
“I’m ready to get out of here,” I mumble to no one in particular.
“We know you are. Just waitin’ on the doc to come in and let us know when that’s gonna happen,” Cage says, leaning against the wall at the end of my bed.
“It’s been two weeks. I haven’t had another seizure, the bruising and other shit is starting to heal, and I feel better than I have since waking up. I want to go home,” I state feeling like a petulant child because of the mood I’m in right now.
“Where are you going, though?” my mom asks, not sure what my answer will be.
“She’s comin’ home with me. Already got the house setup for her to stay on the ground floor and turned one room into a room she can use for therapy,” Trax answers, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“That’s her decision,” my mom tries to argue.
“I’m going with Trax. This is where I belong and where I want to be. He’ll take care of me and make sure I have everything I need. The same you guys would do,” I respond without thought because I know it’s the truth of the situation.
“You officially claimin’ her?” Joker asks, stepping up and looking at the man in question.
“I’ve already officially claimed her. Reaper knows she’s my ol’ lady as does the rest of the club. No one has a problem with it,” he answers, shocking me.
My dads nod their heads in response and the subject drops. Even mom knows I’ll be with Trax since he’s officially claimed me. Savage smiles knowing I’ll be close to him. It’s the first smile I’ve seen on his face since waking up. He’s been filled with guilt and I know it’s been eating him alive as I continue to lay in this damn bed. We’re gonna have a talk.
“I need to talk to Jameson. Alone,” I say, looking around the room.
Everyone leaves us and I take a minute to gather my emotions before talking to my twin brother.
“This isn’t on you. Stop feeling guilty about not being there or whatever other shit you got running around in your head. This is no one’s fault but Peter’s. He chose to put his hands on me. I did what I could to prevent it, but it didn’t work. I’m just glad I got through to Trax and you guys showed up. The only thing I’ll regret the rest of my life is the way you saw me,” I say, taking his chin in my hand so he can’t look away.
“Rea, if I had been closer, it wouldn’t have been as bad.”
“You don’t know that. He launched a quick attack designed to do the most damage in the least amount of time. I remember that. If you had been ten minutes away, I still would have been injured. Stop this now, Jameson. You need to let it go. I’m trying to let it go but I can’t if you hold on to this guilt,” I tell him, knowing deep in my heart that this is what I need from him right now.
As I look at my twin, I can see the resolve in his face. He’s going to try to let go of the guilt for me. If he knows it’s what I need, Jameson will do everything in his power to make sure I don’t see him feeling wrong about this. In time, he’ll understand it wasn’t his fault and there was nothing he could have done differently. We both will. Honestly, I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out where things went so horribly wrong. The answer is something we’ll never know.
A knock sounds on the door before I see the doctor poking his head in. My immediate family follows him in as he checks my vitals and asks how I’m feeling. When I answer I want to go home, he chuckles.
“You’re going to need therapy as we talked about. You’ll also have several follow up appointments with neurology and orthopedics. If you do what we tell you to, I’ll release you to go home. As long as you won’t be alone,” he says.
“She won’t be alone. She’s comin’ home with me and I’ve already made the preparations,” Trax says, determination filling his voice.
“Well, then let me go get things rolling and you should be out of here soon. Go ahead and get changed after the nurse comes in to remove the IV.”
While we’re waiting for the nurse, my mom ushers all the guys from the room so I can get dressed once I’m able to. I’ll be wearing sweats and one of Trax’s button-up shirts. It’s the easiest thing for me to get my arm in right now. Even if I swim in the clothes, I’m sure it will feel better than this gown I’m wearing. I hate hospital gowns with a passion and I know more about them than a lot of other people because I’ve had to wear them so often.
