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It felt like a lifetime had passed since it had happened. But looking over at the area it’d happened in, the new tarmac, the new fencing… It all came flooding back.
I could feel the heat on my back, the pressure as it happened behind me propelling me forward, the way my ears were ringing and stinging, and the pain as things hit my back.
And then came the smell of burning.
Opening the door, I fell out of the vehicle, catching onto the door before I could land on my knees. The pain in my stomach from the jolt was so sharp, I’d have screamed if I could. As much as I tried to hold them back, my eyes were burning with tears, and my lungs felt like they were going to explode as I panted quick breaths in and out.
“Nell,” a deep voice said beside me, sounding like it was underwater. “Baby, look at me.”
Strong hands gripped my face, and I looked up to see Taras’ blurry face looking concerned.
“That’s it, dorogoy. Keep your eyes on mine and take a deep breath in. When I tap your jaw, let it out again.”
Trying to get as much air into my lungs as I could, I waited for the tap on my jaw and then let it out, repeating it until it didn’t feel like I was drowning anymore.
“You with me, dorogoy? Just keep breathing with me, baby, deep in and then back out.”
Footsteps sounded across the asphalt, skidding when they got closer to where we were.
“Is she ok?” Hunter asked, sounding slightly out of breath. “Digger saw her and came and got me.”
Taras nodded slowly, not moving his eyes away from mine. “She’s getting there. I think it was a panic attack.”
Aware he was still holding my face and that the Club would be watching, I pulled back and took a deep, shaky breath in on my own.
“I’m good. It’s the first time I’ve been back since the- the bomb.” I shivered saying the word, and then shook my head. “I’m good, though. Thanks, Taras.”
He straightened up at the same time I did, and turned to Hunter. “I’m here to talk to Bruce. Is he around?”
Scratching his chin thoughtfully, Hunter nodded. “He’s inside. What do you need him for?”
Taras said nothing, but his eyes skimmed to me and then back to my brother again. “I’ve also got an update for you.”
Grabbing his hand, I tugged on it sharply to get his attention back, cringing at the pain in my stomach at the same time.
“You can’t tell him. He won’t give a shit who you are, he’ll—” I stopped because I knew with the Club name Dad had—Blade—that he had to have done something with a knife.
The willfully ignorant part of me that hadn’t been involved in that side of the Club, followed the thought with the fact it could also have meant he was an expert at sharpening them. Sadly, I wasn’t that naïve, so I dismissed it immediately, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t hope for the best scenario.
Still, the thought of Taras telling Dad about his role in the babies' lives had me beginning to lose the modicum of control I’d only just gotten back.
Seeing I was close to freaking out again, he moved the arm I was still holding onto and turned his hand, so he was holding mine.
“You need to calm, dorogoy, or you’re going to have another panic attack. Your dad will probably be pissed, but once I explain things he’ll be ok.”
“I think she’s closer to the truth out of the two of you,” Hunter shrugged, getting a glare from Taras.
“I’ll tell him,” I said quickly. “It’s why I came, but I kinda talked myself out of it on the way here. I can always do it, though, and you can get Dmitri to come to meetings instead.”
Shooting me an amused look, he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “You talked yourself out of it, but you’d do it anyway?”
He was right, it didn’t make sense, but I hadn’t been thinking. The proof of that was also evident in how badly my abdomen hurt still after driving myself here in an SUV.
I didn’t get to answer because Hunter suggested, “Y’all should do it together.”
“Yes!” I almost shouted, only just holding it back at the last second. “That’s what we should do.”
Looking between the two of us with a frown, Taras considered it.
“Ok then,” he agreed finally, and gave my hand a tug toward the door to the Club. “Let’s go tell him together.”
The full weight of what we were about to do hit me, and I tried to tug my hand out of his.
“You can’t hold my hand,” I hissed. “You’re married.”
Instead of letting go of it, he ignored me and continued walking.
I was about to try and get my hand free again, but I heard my dad call out, “Wanna tell me why you’re holding my baby girl’s hand, Fedorov?”
