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It’s been a few days since my disastrous date with Hulk. We aren’t speaking, which is not unusual for us. Fighting is what we do best. And I haven’t heard from Anton. Despite wanting to send a string of texts, I haven’t because he didn’t respond when I apologised for going on the date with Hulk, which tells me I’ve blown it.
The men have gone out on business, which leaves me to watch over Mae. She’s doing so much better, but Ace still insists that she isn’t ready to leave her room.
She buries her nose into Dodge’s fur. “What do you think about me and Hulk, Mae?”
Without looking up, she laughs. “I’m so confused. You and Hulk, then you and Anton, and now, you’re back to Hulk. What’s going on?”
“I just want your opinion. We’ve spent years talking about marrying bikers and becoming ol’ ladies. Do you think I’ll marry Hulk one day?”
“I’ve never really imagined you with anyone else, but that’s because you’ve only ever talked about Hulk. There’s never been anyone else for you.”
The door opens and Ace steps inside. Dodge jumps from the bed, excited to see his owner. Ace kisses Mae on the head and strokes her face. “Are you okay?” She nods, then Ace turns to me and hands me a black box. “This is for you.” It’s wrapped in a red ribbon and there’s a label which reads, ‘To help with things when you’re dreaming of me’.
I smile and my heart rate picks up. “Anton gave you this?”
“Yep. Apparently, I’m a delivery man these days,” says Ace dryly.
I give Mae a kiss on the cheek before leaving them together. I want to open this in the privacy of my own room.
I sit in the centre of my bed and cross my legs. I place the box in front of me, carefully pull the ribbon, and lift the lid. Inside the box, there’s bright pink tissue paper. I rummage through to find another box. Pulling it out, I laugh out loud. In my hand is a vibrator. I send him a text.
Me: Thank you. This will help a lot.
I get into bed with a smile on my face, which makes a nice change. I feel my eyes grow heavy and I’m drifting off with thoughts of Anton filling my head.
When I open my eyes, it’s dark outside. I realise my mobile is buzzing along the bedside table, so I reach for it, rubbing my eyes and yawning. It’s Anton. I answer it, noticing the time is three in the morning. “I have to see you, Piper.” His voice is low, almost a growl.
“Right now?” I ask. “It’s the early hours of the morning.”
“It’s nothing to do with the plan. I need a friendly face.” He pauses. “I need you.” He sounds vulnerable. It’s something I never expected to hear from Anton, and I place my mobile between my shoulder and my ear as I climb from my bed and pull a hoodie from my wardrobe. “Can I come by now and get you?” he asks.
“Yes.” I don’t hesitate in my answer because something about his tone calls to me.
“I’ll be outside in two minutes,” he says, and then the line goes dead. I pull on the hoodie, which hangs over the shorts I wore to bed, and slip my feet into my trainers. I pull my hair into a messy bun as I sneak downstairs.
The night air is cold as I rush outside and make my way to the gate just as Anton’s car slows to a stop.
Michael gets out the driver’s side and smiles. “Morning,” he says. “He’s a bit of a mess, Piper. Be prepared.” He opens the back door, and I slide into the warmth of the car. Anton is slumped in the seat. His white shirt is stained crimson with blood and his head is resting back.
“Jesus,” I hiss, kneeling beside him and opening his jacket. “Are you hurt?” I ask, running my hands over his chest to feel for a wound.
He takes me by the wrists and stills me. “It’s not my blood.”
“Oh,” I breathe, “good.”
Anton sniggers. “You’re relieved that someone else is hurt?”
“No. I’m relieved it isn’t you.” And I realise I mean those words.
He stares at me for a long time before wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me to sit over his lap. I snake my arms around his shoulders and lay my head against him. We stay like that until we arrive at his home.
Michael opens the car door, and Anton slides out with me in his arms. He lowers me down his body until my feet hit the ground and then he takes me by the hand. The lights are on, and he exchanges a wary look with Michael.
The front door swings open, making me flinch. Ella stands before us, her face red with anger. “I fucking hate you!” she screams towards Anton. Michael places himself in front of me as Anton releases my hand. “How could you do this when I begged you not to?”
“I told you my reasons. I will not discuss it any more.” Anton’s tone is blunt and cold.
“Fuck you and fuck your reasons. She tried to overdose tonight.” Ella’s sentence hangs in the air for a moment. “You would know that if you ever answered your fucking phone,” she screams, and then she strikes Anton across the face. I hold my breath, waiting for his reaction, but Michael rushes forward, scooping Ella up and taking her inside.
