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“Okay enough that she’s giving him a whole litter of kids, yeah,” I said, nodding.
“But it’s dangerous.”
“Life is dangerous,” I said, shrugging. “You shouldn’t have been attacked, just trying to exist at work. But you were. Tragedies happen all the time. And, in a way, Harm probably knows her kids are safer than normal kids.”
“How?” she asked, dubious.
“Because they have the protection of the whole club. Because their dad and their mom and their aunts and uncles are all somewhat trained and pretty much all carrying. The houses have bullet-resistant panels in the walls. I mean, you remember when there was a drive-by when we were kids. That little girl got killed living on the bottom floor.”
“Kids shouldn’t have to be protected from the harmful actions of adults.”
“Yeah, Ama. In a perfect world, that’s true. But this isn’t that. It will never be that. All I’m saying is that kids are in danger all the time from all different angles. The kids in the club, because of the club, are just a little bit safer. I know you don’t like that fact, but that doesn’t make it less true.”
“Agree to disagree, I guess,” she said, gaze sliding away.
And, to an extent, I would swear she was just looking for something to be angry about when it came to my lifestyle.
I mean, sure, there was danger associated with the club. But there was danger in living in a bad neighborhood, to having addicts as parents.
I was sure she dealt with parents from the neighborhood, parents with substance abuse issues daily. I very much doubt she judged them as harshly as she was judging the club wives.
“Stop being a stubborn ass,” I said when she gathered her plastic bags and tape, and tried to wrap herself up. “Ask for help.”
“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“Mmhmm,” I agreed, taking the tape out of her hands.
“You can leave.”
“Sure, sure,” I agreed, carefully tucking the bag then putting the tape on.
“I don’t need you to help me.”
“Of course not,” I agreed. “Curious how you think you’re going to get that shirt up over your head, though,” I told her, watching as she realized how screwed she was in that department. “Of course, you could just cut it off, but you’d run short on clothes fast.”
“Stop being so smug,” she demanded, jerking her chin up.
“Stop making it so easy,” I said, shrugging.
“You’re not helping me with my shirt,” she insisted as she turned and made her way down the hall to her bathroom.
I didn’t even bother moving as I listened to her slamming around, to her grumble and grunt.
Then, finally, “Seeley!”
I stopped outside of the bathroom door, forcing the smile away before I opened the door.
She got the shirt off after all.
But, clearly, she had the nurse help her into her bra before she left the hospital. And, yeah, there wasn’t much forethought with that since she couldn’t get her arms behind her back.
“Don’t laugh,” she demanded, looking small and vulnerable.
“I’m not laughing, Ama,” I said truthfully.
Seeing her in nothing but a bra and panties meant that laughing was the absolute last thing on my mind.
Fuck, I’d almost forgotten how perfect she was.
