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“We got extra-smalls. Hope that’s right,” Triple adds, looking into the bathroom at me.
“Thank you,” I whisper, hoarsely. My throat is really hurting me now.
Flay tears into my scripts and pulls out my pain meds. “Here, Jo. You need to take this,” he says, and places the pill in my hand. Triple darts off and comes back with a bottle of water. I take the pill with the water, but I have a hard time swallowing. I just can’t get it down.
Seeing me struggle, Flay turns back to the guys. “Go grab a yogurt and a spoon.” Stage goes to the kitchen this time. Flay makes me spit the pill out. He crushes it on the counter with the spoon and adds it to the yogurt. “Take small bites, but you will need to eat all of it to get all your medication.”
I do as he says, and I manage to get it all down, but my throat bitches at me each time I swallow.
“When you’re ready, Jo, come out to the living room. Reaper and Brass set up a bed for you and Atlas. They thought you might want to watch television while you recover. Butch and Ziggy even programmed Netflixwith all the movies and shows they thought you may like,” Stage says.
Triple smiles. “Yeah, Eagle even ordered your favorite Chinese takeout for the whole house. Everyone is trying to do something to help. Chase and Punk fed and took Hades for his walk—he was pacing the hallway carpet thin with worry over you.”
I wipe away my tears and mouth “thank you” to them, unable to tolerate the pain of using my voice anymore. They close the door and more tears roll down my face.
Opal grabs a tissue and blots my face. Flay helps me get into a new silky-smooth pajama set.
When I finally emerge from the bathroom, Flay helps me walk, all the bunnies trailing behind us. The living room is jam-packed, but there’s only one face I want to see.
Maceo sits on our new bed, Gauge sits next to him. It appears that Gauge is trying to keep Maceo calm by whispering words of support. I start to make my way to him, and Maceo’s dark torturous eyes lock with mine. Gauge gets up and goes to Opal, making room for me on the bed. Maceo stands, holding out his arms for me to join him. Once I’m safe in his embrace, he relaxes, and he helps me into the bed, sliding in next to me, holding me close.
Everyone settles into the living room as dinner is passed around and some chick-flick plays on the television. The food looks good, but my throat hurts too damn much, and I’m feeling queasy on top of it.
Maceo coaxes me to take a couple bites. “I don’t want the pain medication to upset your stomach. Throwing up with broken ribs would not be good for you, baby.”
Ugh! That would be par for the course.The fear of vomiting and hurting myself more is the only way I manage a couple more bites before my throat screams ‘enough.’
Mostly, everyone eats in silence or low whispers while we watch the movie. I don’t say a word or laugh at any of the scenes playing on the screen. My body feels like it’s shutting down. Hades whines at the foot of the bed. He knows something horrible happened, and my poor boy is worried, but I can’t find the strength to comfort him at the moment.
I think I’m in shock.
Everything is catching up to me and I feel like my mind and body aren’t connected. I desperately want to stop the awful memories from playing on repeat in my head, but my body is incapable of shutting it down. To say I feel violated or victimized doesn’t cover the surface of my emotions. There are no words to describe what I’m feeling.
Anger, fear, sadness—so much and at the same time nothing at all. Maybe my pain meds are messing with me, or maybe I’m emotionally broken now.
Exhausted, I sag against Maceo and feel myself starting to drift off. My eyelids flutter closed, and my breathing evens out. I’m not completely asleep, but I’m close.
I hear the television turn off and everyone is quiet. They could go back to their normal activities or head off to bed, but no one seems to want to leave.
“Is it okay if we stay out here with you and Jo, prez?” Stage bravely asks on behalf of everyone.
“Yeah, it’s okay,” Maceo says, settling into the bed with me snuggled against him.
Everyone works to get comfortable for the evening. It’s silent for several minutes before Punk speaks. “That was too close today.”
Maceo groans. “No shit.”
“The fucker is lucky the cops took him out and not us,” Gauge growls.
“Well, Jo certainly didn’t make it easy on either of them,” Flay says, delighted.
Maceo chuckles. “She broke one fucker’s nose.”
“And fought like the hellcat she is to keep Jacob from going any further,” Flay adds.
Red sniffles. “I’m just glad you were all there to stop him. Not every woman is that lucky.”
The tension is thick in the air as Red’s words sink in. She’s right, not every woman has someone to help save them from danger, let alone an entire motorcycle club.
After a long silence, Reaper cuts the tension in the air by chuckling. “I’m just glad I’m not the one who got pissed on by the other weasel.”
Brass groans. “Fuck off! It’s bad enough I had to wait until late tonight to wash it off, without being reminded of it.”
They all snigger, and I pass out from exhaustion.
