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Ranger’s truck was in the garage as it had been since he’d last driven it. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to drive it. Definitely hadn’t been able to bring myself to sell it.
Sometimes, in the darkest of times, I’d gotten out of bed in the middle of the night to sit in there. It still smelled of him. In amongst the musk and stale air. But only if I kept it closed up, didn’t indulge in sitting in there often, only when the need was dire. It was the last thing I had of him.
If I opened it up and drove it around, it wouldn’t smell of him anymore.
But I couldn’t think about that. Not now. The drugs they gave me were good at making the exterior and interior pain disappear.
Kace was always close. Always touching me. It was nice. I grateful for the pills since without them, I would’ve likely found a way to feel wrong about Kace. Being taken care of, protected, lusted after. It was meant to be a bad thing.
The drugs didn’t make it feel bad. Not at all.
They made it feel normal. Natural. Easy.
They also made me feel like I’d just come from a spa and not a car wreck, so they weren’t exactly to be trusted.
Olive had rushed over after I’d called her, calmly telling her what happened and trying to discourage her from getting in her car. I was obviously unsuccessful, presumably because Olive was a nurse who could care for someone on heavy drugs, and also because she’d lost her son and needed to see with her own eyes that I was okay.
What I didn’t need her to see with her own eyes was Kace. Even in my drugged-up state, I knew that was wrong. I did my best trying to convince him to leave, but he did that hard-jawed thing and stayed put. It did help that Gage was there, too, watchful. Worried.
If Olive was surprised to see the two men from the Sons in my living room, she didn’t show it. She didn’t show much other than concern about the neat stitches on my head. She’d done her own examination, of course. She would’ve stayed for the entire day, I knew that for sure, but she had shift at the hospital which I convinced her not to miss. She’d be back tomorrow, I knew that. Olive was shaken from all of this, from how close she’d gotten to losing her remaining child, which was what I was to her.
I didn’t tell my own mother, of course. The drugs made me feel foolish but not stupid.
Foolish enough to let Kace stay after Gage left.The drugs had worn off. The kids had gone to bed, more than a little shaken that their only remaining parent had been in a car accident. Jack had been trying to stay staunch, as always, but he was visibly rattled. Lily hadn’t left my side since I came home, then brought me a mug full of M&M’S to help me feel better. We called it ‘M&M’ tea, only to be brought out in the direst of emotional situations. Like when Lily liked her first boy and he’d called her ‘weird’.
Once the pills had worn off, leaving me with my head throbbing, I felt overwhelming guilt for putting my kids through this again.
Kace had made dinner. Pasta bake. The kids had adored it. It didn’t taste like much of anything to me, but he forced me to eat it. Just like he’d hovered all day to make sure that I didn’t fall asleep and lapse into a coma.
I’d been getting texts and phone calls all day. Kace had apparently banned everyone from visiting, declaring that I needed time to rest.So the alpha male bullshit has begun.That text was from Bex, and I could practically see her shit-eating grin through the screen.
It seemed the visitor ban did not extend to presidents of MCs since Cade arrived not long after we put the kids to bed.
Yes, we.
Lily wanted Kace to read the story while I lay beside her until she fell asleep. It felt right and incredibly wrong at the same time.
Cade declined the offer of a beer, whisky or water. He was a man on a mission, it seemed. He had a family to get back to, so he didn’t fuck around.
“Someone cut your brakes,” Cade reported.
I blinked, pushing myself up from my position on the sofa. “What?”
Kace stood behind his president, body stiff, mouth straightened into a hard line. I’d never seen him like this. He’d kept it locked down throughout the day. He’d been intent on taking care of me, keeping me calm. Cooking. Distracting the kids from the stitches in their mother’s head serving as evidence that she could not only get hurt but could die like their father.
