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I would’ve yelled at him for being overprotective except I kind of stumbled into his arms from the head rush I got from getting up too quickly.
“Easy,” he murmured, steadying my hips then brushing my hair from my face. “You okay?” His tone was soft. Concerned. Any woman would’ve likely swooned at a biker being so tender with her.
But I fucking hated where the tenderness was coming from. He was waiting for me to fall apart. He was treating me like I was this broken, weak thing he needed to preserve. To save, somehow. Yet the time for saving had come and gone. If only he could understand that. I wasn’t the victim anymore. I feared I’d turned into a monster of my own.
“I’m good, cowboy, chill,” I told him, stepping from his arms. Or at least trying to.
He tightened his grasp on my hip, communicating his disagreement.
“I can stand on my own, Colby,” I said through my teeth.
He didn’t let me go, he just stared at me like there weren’t a whole bunch of people in the room. Like he could stare at me like that. Like I was worth staring at.
Panic clawed at my throat, and my stomach curdled even though all I’d had to eat were copious amounts of coffee and a few bites of the muffins Kate had made earlier.
I needed to escape. Fuck, in that moment, being back in that warehouse would’ve been preferable. I could handle a crazy killer torturing me. A hot outlaw being tender with me? Nope.
“I need to talk to Sariah,” Violet blurted.
I glanced at her in relief, wondering if my best friend saw my panic or if it was just a happy accident. Either way, I capitalized on the opportunity.
“Why don’t you go and do … whatever it is you do,” I told Colby. “I’m going to talk to my best friend, and I can walk on my own two feet as I do.” I resisted the urge to poke my tongue out at him as I stomped out of the room.
Luckily, Violet followed me quickly after and grabbed my arm in order for me to lean on her. Which was good because I was pretty close to collapsing, and that would’ve really ruined my storm out.
“You literally just gave birth. It should be me helping you walk down the hall,” I whined, hating how vulnerable I was. Hating how every step was a reminder of what had happened to me. I was desperate to be strong, self-sufficient, but that went out the window when I couldn’t walk unassisted down a fucking hallway.
“Babe, you are recovering from being attacked by a serial killer,” she countered. “Birth is a completely natural thing for the body to go through … that is not.” Her voice trembled slightly as if she might burst into tears again. She’d already done that once when Colby and I had arrived. She’d all but collapsed into my arms and sobbed for what seemed like five straight minutes. My eyes had stayed dry. My mouth had filled with blood from my teeth tearing into the flesh of my cheek, trying to survive my friend’s arms around my body.
I frowned. “Still, it’s also natural for the mother to be able to rest and be spoiled by everyone around her after carrying the baby for nine months then pushing her out.”
Though I’d gone through some seriously gruesome shit, I still shuddered at the thought of Violet pushing a human being out of her vagina a few days ago.
Violet smiled as we sat down in the armchairs in her bedroom, the French doors opened to give us a great view of the garden and the desert beyond.
“Have you seen this place?” she waved her hand around. “I am barely able to lift a glass of water without someone offering to help.”
That was true. “As it should be,” I shrugged. “You deserve this.”
“Babe, you deserve it too.” Violet reached over to hold my hand “You deserve to rest. To heal. You deserve to be taken care of. You don’t always have to be strong.”
My world rocked at my bestie’s thoughtful words. She saw me. Even in the midst of one of the biggest changes a woman went through in her life, she was watching me. Because that’s the kind of person that Violet was.
I battled against tears, determined not to be the victim.
“Girl, I have to be strong,” I told her in a choked voice. “The only other option is letting him win.”
It was the most I’d spoken about … him since they found me. Colby had tried to coax information out of me, vibrating with rage and concern as he did.
“You saw my injuries,” I told him from
where I laid in the hospital bed. “Use your imagination.”
“I am using my imagination,” he growled, nostrils flaring. “That’s the goddamn problem.”
