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Something they might not walk out of alive from.
I heard Hawke quietly giving orders to Brewer. A moment later, Capone came back on the line. “Tell me about the dream, baby girl. That’s what you had, right?”
“Yeah.” She sniffled, her tears thankfully slowing now that Capone was leaving—taking her nightmare seriously. “There was a phone call. She told someone you were coming. You walked into a room at an abandoned motel and—” Her words cut off as she sobbed, her shoulders shaking.
“Fuck,” Capone swore, and that was all I needed to hear to know that was exactly where he was at. A fucking motel. I could probably place money on it that it would be the exact same one in her fucking dream.
It chilled the blood in my veins. So many people thought of her dreams as a gift, and when they protected our men, they were. But I knew they were also a curse. Because even if we managed to stop what happened in time, she still had to live with that fucking nightmare playing on repeat in her head.
I dreaded the day she woke up too late to warn anyone of what could happen. That guilt would eat her alive inside, and I knew nothing any of us did would ease the pain she would inevitably live with for the rest of her life.
“Easy, darlin’,” I soothed, burying my face in her hair. “He’s going to be okay.”
Fuck, hehadto be.
“Keep talking,” Smokey urged, his hand running over her hair.
“Someone was waiting behind the door,” she whispered. “I saw him rush out with a knife. His face was covered with a mask. And then, I woke up.”
Smokey was pale. Fuck, I was sure I didn’t look much better. If I’d dreamed what she had, I’d have been drowning myself in a liquor bottle.
Because Capone wouldn’t have answered the phone for me.
I was more thankful than ever for April at that moment. Because losing Capone, Hawke, or Brewer would kill me.
“I’m coming home, baby girl, you hear me? I’m getting on my bike now,” he promised her. “I’ll see you when I get home. Let the guys take care of you.”
“I love you,” she whispered, her voice cracking. There was so much pain in those three words that I shuddered.
“I love you, too,” he promised.
April was silent and withdrawn for the two hours it took our men to get back to the clubhouse. Smokey and I could barely get her to drink water to get her hydrated. Food was off the table; she couldn’t stomach it. Just the smell had her gagging, so River quickly took that back downstairs.
Rider and River were deeply concerned, but they didn’t dare let Malorie out of their sights after April’s dream. We all knew the tendency those dreams had of coming true. Capone, who we all felt was nearly invincible, could have died today had Aprilnot had that dream. And if he hadn’t answered her call like he promised he always would…
My temples pounded with an oncoming migraine at the mere thought of living in a world where Capone didn’t exist. Something in me threatened to wither and die at the mere idea.
A world without Capone was miserable and bleak.
The sound of bikes roaring onto the lot had April jumping from my lap. She stumbled, and I barely managed to steady her before she was rushing down the stairs in nothing but one of Capone’s t-shirts with no fucking panties, but Smokey nor I said a damn word.
She needed him. If Malorie got an eye full of April’s cunt, then she shouldn’t have been looking.
We hurried down the stairs after her, our boots pounding on the wood, and as soon as Capone walked through the clubhouse doors, April launched herself into his arms. He stumbled back into Hawke and Brewer, his hands grasping her thighs, his fingertips digging into her soft flesh. Hawke and Brewer quickly steadied them before they ran their hands over April’s back and hair, doing their best to ease her worries as she cried into his Capone’s neck and clung to him, her nails digging into the back of his neck hard enough to draw blood.
Capone cupped her cheek and forced her head up. He rested their foreheads together, and my heart broke as I watched her lips tremble. “I’m here, baby girl,” Capone soothed. “I’m okay, and I’m home,” he promised.
CHAPTER 17
Smokey
Seeing April so distraught tore at my fucking insides. Left me feeling raw and splayed open. When what was bothering her was something I couldn’t protect her from—like her mind—it made me feel crazy. Like I was out of control. It sent me back into the dark place I’d fought like hell to get out of. Tostayout of.
Capone settled into a chair at one of the tables, his hands running over her hair and back as he let her cry it out. She’d saved his life today. There was no doubt about that. But the things she must have seen in her dream had to have been horrifying. I’d already heard most of it, but I knew it was nothing compared to essentially living through it like she had.
For a split moment, she’d lived in a world where Capone no longer existed. Where she had no idea if Hawke and Brewer were still alive. How she wasn’t throwing up, I had no idea. Because even catching a glimpse of that kind of vivid nightmare would have me spewing everything I had inside of me.
Tank suddenly gripped the back of my neck, and I blinked before turning my head to look at him. He was crouched in front of me. Fuck, when the hell had I even sat down? Had I really been that out of it?
