Page 105 of Resilience

But it had turned his stomach and made his limbs shake. While he was in the hospital healing from being shot, he’d worried that he wasn’t cut out to be a Bull—and he’d wondered whether he’d made a mistake seeking it at all. He’d talked to his father about it, and Dad had assured him that most of them felt fear when they were in the shit. The thing was to stay sharp despite it, which Sam had done. Apparently it was okay to lose his shit after the fact.

He'd been patched while he was still sort of losing his shit, and honestly not entirely sure he still wanted it, but then he’d had the patch. Never would he admit it to anyone, but he’d felt trapped at first.

Not until the night Hunter was killed did Sam feel like his kutte sat right on his shoulders.

Maybe that was fucked up, to finally feel like a true patch on the night he and four other patches helped Athena kill her rapist. Sam hadn’t even done much that night. He hadn’t touched Hunter; his focus had been on no one but Athena. Still, that was the night he’d felt like he’d truly understood what being a Bull meant, and understood that he wanted what it meant. He wanted to be a man like his father, his uncles. He wanted to be able to truly protect those he loved and, when he couldn’t, to know that justice would always be served.

He'd known that night that he’d been right to prospect. He felt undiluted pride with that patch on his back now.

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~oOo~

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Athena woke when Sam made a pit stop, fifty miles or so into Kansas. While she took Blanche to a dirt patch off to the side of the gas station, Sam filled the tank and went in to drain his own pipe. Before he paid, he grabbed a soda for each of them, a little pack of Snausages for the pup, and some snacks.

When he returned to the truck, his girls were settled inside again. He handed Athena a Cherry Coke, a Reese’s, and Blanche’s snacks, too.

“Thanks,” Athena signed.

“You’re welcome. Did you get good sleep?”

She nodded. “I’m going to hit the toilet, too. Is it inside?”

“Yep. It’s locked, though, and you need to ask for a key. I’ll go in with you.”

She grabbed his arm before he could reach for the door handle. “I got it. Stay with Blanche.” She shoved her door open and jumped down without waiting for his response.

Sam watched her walk toward the shop. It felt like she was making distance between them, and he wanted to be worried about that. But maybe it wasn’t about him. Probably it wasn’t about him. Maybe she was simply scared.

Athena hated to be scared. She hated anything that made her feel weak.

What they did on this little road trip was the last step in eradicating from the world all traces of Hunter Cruz and what he’d done. That was a good thing, and she insisted that she didn’t care about what she called the ‘uterus blob’ and couldn’t wait for it to be gone. Sam believed her, and he was glad she felt that way. But she was about to have an abortion. Even without any moral qualms about it, even knowing it was the right thing, even hating that there was anything inside her that didn’t belong there, it had to be scary.

She’d read—and asked him to read—a bunch of stuff online about the procedure and what came before and after it, but it was still something she’d never done before and had no experience with. It was still a big, scary thing, coming on the heels of an even worse thing.

She had to be scared. She hated to be scared.

Sam wished there was something he could do to make all this easier, but it was going to be big and hard and scary, no matter what.

All he could do was be there when she needed him.

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