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I slid into an empty pew and breathed in the silence of the chapel.
Boxer stood by the doors, guarding me without interfering with my private time. I’d waited until Colt had fallen asleep before leaving his room. I’d gone and sat with Shelly, despite Mark’s hostile glare pinging me from across her hospital bed.
Lost in my own thoughts, I didn’t hear the chapel doors open.
A large body sat down next to me and stretched out long legs in worn jeans. The smell of cigar tobacco permeated Knight’s clothes, but it wasn’t unpleasant.
“I didn’t take you for the religious type,” Knight said.
“I’m not. But it’s quiet here.” I looked at him. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Saving my life.”
He nodded slowly, but said nothing.
“How’s your shoulder?” I asked him.
“I’ll live.”
We fell silent for a moment and then he said, “I heard about your friend. I’m sorry, kid.”
The wordkidslipped out of his mouth. Like it was normal, natural.
With a sigh, I leaned my head against his uninjured shoulder. I felt his muscles tighten for a moment and then relax.
“What happens now?” I asked. “It feels like we’re scrambling.”
“Gotta ask Colt. He’s the one leading all of this.”
“Colt is passed out in a hospital bed. Zip is president for the time being.”
“You should go back to the clubhouse and get some sleep.”
“Will you sleep tonight?” I asked, lifting my head so I could stare at him.
“Point taken,” he said darkly.
“Besides, I won’t leave while Colt is here. While Shelly is here.”
“I saw what you did. Firing a shot at Dev, wanting to avenge your man. You’re true Old Lady material, Mia. And I’m proud of you.”
His words washed over me, but they weren’t a balm to my battered soul.
I looked up at the ceiling. The chapel was serviceable, a place one could sit and ponder, pray, curse, but it wasn’t a spot of beauty. The room was built for function, not frivolity. It didn’t have the elegance and craftsmanship like those gothic cathedrals with huge stained glass windows. In a hospital that wasn’t what was needed.
“I didn’t think I’d be doing this again,” I whispered.
“Doing what?”
“Saying goodbye to someone else I loved. I feel powerless. Useless.” I threaded my fingers through my hair, wanting to reach out and strangle something just to combat my feelings of impotence. To kill my inability to change the circumstances.
Knight didn’t offer any platitudes, not that I expected him to. He was a rough man, made rougher by the life he’d chosen to live. But his presence was a comfort anyway, and maybe, words were stupid and useless.
Maybe all we had were the people we chose to be our family. Maybe they’d be our strength when we were ready to fall.
Chapter 27
