Page 41 of Property of Bones

I grin up at him. “C’mon, Jack. It’ll make people smile.”

“Yeah, and also make people question my ability to throw a knife.”

“Oh, you poor grumpy soul,” I say with a dramatic sigh. “You’ll survive. Besides, if you’re really worried, we’ll just paint skulls on the daisies. Compromise.”

He glares at me like he’s trying really hard not to smile. “Skulls. On. Daisies.”

“Artistic juxtaposition,” I say proudly.

Riley claps her hands. “I love her. Can we keep her?”

Shaking his head, Jack gently helps me to my feet, pulling me softly against his chest.

“Ouch,” I whisper, wincing as I lean against his body. “I didn’t know air could hurt.”

“Let’s go before the pain meds wear all the way off,” Spike says, stepping aside.

“Here, sit in the wheelchair. I’ll push you,” Riley offers cheerfully. “Who knew getting drugged would turn out to be a good thing? Not only do we get to be neighbors, but Bones finally stopped being an idiot and admitted his feelings.”

“Maybe,” I sigh, easing into the chair. “But it’s only for a couple weeks. Temporary neighbors. And by then, Jack will be tired of me.”

“We’ll see,” Riley says with a sly smile. “Marv’s Market is closer to us than your place. So is your mom’s house, actually.”

“Riley,” Spike warns, a hint of a growl in his voice.

“What?” she says innocently, pushing me forward. “I’m just stating facts.”

Those are some interesting facts.

“Please tell me I get to ride on someone’s bike,” I say hopefully.

“Not until you’re healed, Sunny,” Jack answers, his voice firm. “And then only ever on the back of mine.”

“Bossy.”

“You don’t even know the half of it, sister,” Riley laughs. “Wait until the rest of the guys show up. They’re all bossy bikers. But don’t worry. I’ve got just the book to help you survive it.”

“I threw it away,” Spike mutters behind us.

“I know,” she sighs dramatically. “Patch sent me a few more. I’ve got them hidden.”

Riley turns to me with a grin. “Patch sent it as a wedding gift. It’s calledHow to Survive Marriage to a Hardheaded Biker: A Guide for the Brave (or the Crazy).Very informative.”

“Fucking Patch,” Spike grumbles.

Spike and Riley bicker back and forth as we make our way outside and to the parking lot.

By the time I get settled into the freakishly large truck, I’m fighting back tears. Everything hurts so freaking bad, and I’m still full of drugs, which means this isn’t even the full horror show yet.

Jack doesn’t say a word as he gently helps me with my seatbelt. He tucks a folded blanket between the strap and my chest to cushion the pressure, then clicks it into place.

Still hurts. Maybe worse than before. But I know it’s for safety, so I grit my teeth and hold it in.

Almost.

A single tear slips down my cheek before I can stop it.

“Double ouch,” I whisper.

---