Page 86 of Making Choices

“For someone who was missing for more than three days, you’ve certainly been brought up to date quickly.”

“Don’t deflect,” he chides. “I didn’t check myself outta the hospital so you could bullshit me. I wanna know all the little things runnin’ around in that busy head of yours, all the things you won’t tell anyone else.”

“Benny,” I lapse into his long-abandoned nickname. “I’m okay. With Slash and Nadia fussing over me, Bebe dropping by every day, and the two mother hens here day and night, I don’t have the option not to be.” As softly as I can, I rest my head on the shoulder of his unbroken arm. “Now, tell me how the fuck you managed to survive being kidnapped, used as a human shield, and thrown out of a speeding truck.”

“I’m superman, Cherub. Fuckin’ invincible… it’ll take more than a couple of wannabe outlaws to finish me off.” With a grunt, Toker angles himself so he can drop a kiss on the top of my head. “Now tell me the truth… how are you coping with losin’ ya baby?”

“I’m not.” The burn that refuses to leave me alone flares behind my eyes. “Sometimes I manage to go numb, but someone always ruins it. Like, I love them all, but they’re fucking relentless. I can’t breathe with them around me. Everyone but Slash… none of them understand. He, at least, gets it. He’s been through it.” Toker makes a grumbling sound in his throat. “If Zeke would come home, I’d…”

Trailing off, unable to voice my suspicion that something other than “club business” is keeping my man away, I snuggle as close to Toker as I dare. He leans some of his weight on me. We sit like this, half-slumped on each other, lost in thought for a long time. It isn’t until he speaks that I realise tears have been silently running down my face the entire time.

“While Bear had me, I keep thinkin’ about Delia,” he confesses in a ragged whisper. “I had to live so I could apologise to her. She deserves to know that I tried my best to save him… I didn’t just roll over and let them slaughter him. I tried to barter my life for his.” He sniffs. “They decided I was more valuable than Tank.”

“Is it bad if I tell you that I’m glad they did?”

He shakes his head. “Probs not since I kinda feel the same. He was in on the plan, deserved what he got in the end, even if my dumb luck at stumblin’ across him lettin’ Alex through the gates signed his death warrant that night.” Toker exhales noisily. “I know that it was never gonna end in anythin’ but death for him—it was just a matter of whose hand dealt the killer blow. Shamrocks or Maddisons.”

“He deserved everything he got then... because losing you is in my top ten worst nightmares.”

“Top ten?”

“Yep.”

“Why don’t you just stab me straight in the heart there, little cuz… I should be top three at least.”

Biting back my laughter, I tell him, “I have a big family… top ten is good.”

“That’s a cop out.”

Our teasing comes to an end when Slash quietly opens the bedroom door. “Mumma’s expectin’ you for dinner. She’s made up the spare room and has told me she’ll be overseein’ your recovery herself.” He pauses, smiling wide with a toothy grin. “That’s after she twists your ear for dischargin’ yourself against doctor’s advice.”

“Bloody hell. She bloody hurts when she wants to.”

This time when Slash picks Toker up, my cousin doesn’t complain. He holds his breath, stiffening when his full weight is transferred to the wheelchair. Some of the colour leaches from his face. Its absence makes the cuts and bruises stand out even more. We exchange a little wave, and he blows me an awkward kiss.

“Thank you,” I call after him.

“I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“No, you won’t,” Slash tells him.

“You’re a fuckin’ bossy bitch.”

Their bickering makes me smile until they drop out of hearing range. Once I’m alone, I slide down the bed and pull the covers over my head. The T-shirt that I’ve been wearing for four days has lost all traces of Zeke’s cologne, yet, despite knowing that I still pull the neck over my nose and inhale. The only scent I can identify is mine… and a little of Slash’s.

“Come back, Zeke,” I whisper to myself.

The twinge in my stomach, the one that’s filled with the pang of intuition that I’m doing my best to ignore, grows too intense to discount. I roll onto my side and hug a pillow to my chest. It takes all my effort, but I slowly pull free the numbness that I told Toker about and cloak myself in it. Once it’s in place, I try to empty my mind.

My consciousness fights me.

I’m too stubborn to let it win.

Detaching myself from reality, I stay under the covers with my eyes screwed shut and my head filled with nothing but buzzing. It puts a stop to the burn behind my eyes. It tranquillises the ache in my heart. It beats back the dark question that keeps popping into my head.

Has Zeke left me?

I stay in this position, numb and disconnected, until Slash pulls back the covers and slides into bed with me. Like a well-rehearsed symphony, we move closer. My head finds its usual spot on his shoulder. His arm settles on my waist. My leg slips over his. He presses a light kiss to my forehead.

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