Page 62 of Tick Tock, Boom!

“You sticking him with the bill?” Riddick asked, grinning.

“Damn right,” Hensley muttered and walked out.

Jameson leaned on the end of the bed. “Doc said you were lucky. Bullet missed the artery, but you bled out enough to scare the hell out of Knuckles.”

“Pussy,” I muttered.

“Keep talking, invalid,” Knuckles snapped back.

“Should’ve let you bleed,” Riddick added.

Jameson grunted. “It’s your fault, you know.”

I lifted a brow. “How’s that?”

“You let yourself get shot. Don’t do that shit again.”

“Duly noted,” I said, settling back as the pain pulsed harder.

I stared up at the ceiling, the dream still vivid. Sadness filled my chest knowing that would only ever be a dream. Natalia was dead, that unmarked grave was all there was left of her, and I had to live with that. It was my punishment for the blood I'd shed.

NATALIA

The moment I got home, all I wanted to do was sleep.

My body ached from the inside out. I was emotionally drained, physically wrecked, and mentally stuck somewhere between the past and this damn heart ache that wasn't going to go away any time soon. But being a Mom didn’t wait. I had accepted that a long time ago.

My alarm chimed through the house just as I was peeling off my scrubs. With a deep sigh I quickly changed into some shorts, strong and a T-shirt and ran to Gabe's. Waking him up for school was always a hassle. The boy loved to sleep and how I envied that. After a few minutes of lifting and shaking and calling his name, he finally staggered, half asleep, into the bathroom. I dragged myself into the kitchen, started the coffee pot, and packed his lunch with what I can only describe as slow, robotic movements. My fingers moved on autopilot as I made him a simple PB&J sandwich, fruit, granola bar, and a juice box. All the while my mind was still back in that clinic, staring down at the pool of blood, and thinking of the man who I thought I could avoid for the rest of my life.

He was alive and he lived here.

Breakfast was a blur of toast and milk. Gabe was still yawning as I helped him into his jacket and combed through his unruly curls before I grabbed his backpack and ushered him into the car.

It took five minutes to drive him to school, and he hugged me tight at the door as I dropped him off.

“Love you, Mama.”

“I love you too, baby,” I whispered into his hair.

As soon as he was safely inside, I drove away. I stopped at the café down the street, ordered the greasiest thing on the menu, ate in silence while the world moved on around me.

Then I went home.

I wasn't planning on showing up for work. Not for the next two days. Not while he was still there. I'd figure that out later, first, I just wanted to sleep.

Instead, my pulse stopped cold when I saw the motorcycle parked in my driveway. My stomach flipped as my grip on the steering wheel tightened.

Please don't be him. Please don’t be him.

And then I saw who it was and the knot in my stomach tightened even more.

That Scorpion I'd met at the supermarket was sitting on my porch, slowly standing as I got out of the car.

I slammed the door shut and stormed out, rage igniting in my veins. “Get the fuck off my property.”

He turned his head, that smug grin already plastered across his face. He looked too clean and too cocky, and he watched me with those light blue eyes, amused, as if he were the only one privy to his joke.

“Didn't know you were working for Hensley. You backin’ the Bastards now, sweetheart,” he said, voice low and oily.

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