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I know how heavy the weight of watching a loved one struggle can be. It’s something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.
The tension crackled with the promise of danger and pain as D glared at Styx who was waiting for him to snap just as much as I was.
But it never came.
All D did was warn Styx to stay away from his sister or face staring down the barrel of his gun in the near future.
Did I really think D would shoot Styx for pursuing Kat?
Honestly, I’m not sure I’d like to put my money on it.
Diesel is fiercely protective of Kat. And we all know that he doesn’t consider any of us—probably any man alive—good enough for her.
He wants her to have the life she deserves. Even if that is entirely hypocritical while he fucks her best friend with two other guys. Something he seems to be happy to put to one side while he informs Styx that he’s not to go anywhere near Kat and that he is to forget she even exists.
Styx barely reacted to his threats, that was probably even more terrifying than D’s lack of fire.
I think I would’ve preferred it if they’d just fought it out. It’s how we usually deal with our shit, just like outside the hospital.
But when D finally left, it was with another ominous warning involving asking how much Styx valued his life.
Safe to say, the mood was somber as we listened to his bike rumble to life and disappear into the distance.
Not a second after silence descended around us, Styx dragged himself to his feet, snatched what was left of the vodka on the coffee table, and stormed to his bedroom, leaving nothing but the sound of his slamming door in his wake.
I sat there for a good thirty minutes, but when he didn’t come back, I continued on my quest to tidy the place up in the hope that removing what I could of what happened here might help the guilt he’s struggling with.
I knocked on his door a couple of hours later to let him know I was heading out, but he either ignored me or he’d passed out again.
* * *
Astrong wave of déjà vu hits me when I’m woken from sleep by the blare of my cell and I open my eyes, not instantly recognizing where I am.
“Shit,” I hiss when it starts up again.
Grabbing it from the nightstand, I squint at the name staring back at me.
“Stone,” I grunt, my voice rough with sleep as I press my cell to my ear.
“It’s River,” a soft voice says.
“Shit, Riv. What’s wrong?” I ask, my heart sinking at the fear in her voice.
“It’s Evelyn. They’ve taken her to the hospital. Diesel’s been up there but he’s just messaged to say he’s coming back.”
“Kat?” I blurt without thinking.
“She stayed there. I’m worried about her, Ryder. She’s not coping with all this.”
Shit.
Pushing my fingers through my hair, I rest back against the headboard.
“I know, sweetheart. I’m worried about her too,” I confess, figuring that if she’s calling me with this then she must know the truth about what’s going on with her best friend, and not just what Styx confessed to Diesel.
“I want to help. But I don’t know what to do. She keeps pulling away and putting up her walls. But I know you understand, Ry. And I know you can help.”
“What are you suggesting here, River?”
