Page 2 of Nitro

“I’m fine,” I lie.

My vision starts to blacken at the edges. Tremors ripple through me. My skin is clammy, and when I hold up my hands to investigate the sensation, I notice a bluish tinge under my fingernails. Frosty spring air seeps through the soaking wet layers I’m wearing to chill me to the bone. I’m suddenly cold. So damn cold.

“His teeth are chattering. Anyone bring any blankets?” Scar asks.

“Got two in my saddlebags,” Matrix says.

“Look who’s the Boy Scout now,” Talon teases.

When Matrix returns, he starts barking orders. “Elevate his legs. I’m going to check him for internal bleeding.”

“What?” I try to bat his hands away, but he’s too insistent. “I’m fine.”

“Just let me fucking check,” Matrix snaps.

I clamp my lips together because he never yells. I’m too surprised to respond. Instead, I try not to think about the way he’s poking and prodding me. If he wasn’t my club brother, I’d kill him for touching me. I don’t let men do that shit, not becauseI’m homophobic, but because of what Jonathan Blackstone did to me when I was a kid.

Dark thoughts swirl through my mind. I try like hell never to think about the past. That’s why I jump off mountains and do all kinds of other crazy shit, so I have something else to focus on. If I allow myself to slip back in time, the nightmares come back. Each time it happens, they get worse. They never go away, but if I run fast enough, if I fuck enough women, if I distract myself with enough drugs or alcohol, then I don’t have to remember the hell I went through.

“Nitro?” A soft, feminine voice cuts through the darkness. I open my eyes to find Julia, Scar’s old lady, peering down at me. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” I turn my head away because the compassion in her eyes is too much to bear. I don’t know for sure, but I suspect Scar told her about Blackstone. If she knows about the devil, then she knows what he did to us. Although Scar had every right to tell her his story, I hate that she can recognize his pain in the rest of us too. She may have sympathy for us, but she’ll never understand what we went through. No one will.

“Let me take you to the clubhouse. Daisy and Crystal, the new club girls, are making dinner right now. It will be ready when we get back.” Julia holds out a hand to help me up. Instead of being a stubborn asshole, I take it because I’m not sure if I can get up on my own right now.

“What are they making?” I ask.

“Chicken soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. Scar, a little help here,” Julia says to her old man.

“Come on, brother.” Scar loops an arm around my waist and half-drags, half-carries me to the van.

“I hate this shit,” I grumble.

“I hear you, man, but you can’t ride right now.”

“Yeah, I know.”

After getting settled in the passenger seat, I lean my head back and close my eyes. I hate enclosed spaces, places like cars, trucks, vans, or basements. Especially basements. I can’t breathe when I’m locked up. That’s why I ride. I need the open road and the wind in my hair, or I feel like I’m suffocating. If there were any other way to get back home, I’d take it. But there isn’t, so here we are.

“Fuck,” I mumble.

“Don’t get mad, but I called Doc. He’s going to meet us at the clubhouse.” Julia doesn’t take her eyes off the winding mountain road.

“Nothing’s broken. I’m in one piece.” I soften my gaze and look out the window at the passing trees. They flow by in an endless blur of shades of green. I don’t need a doctor; I need a distraction.

“Did you do a body scan?” Julia asks.

“Scar told you about that?”

“He said you’re a medical intuitive. You can sense illness within a person and diagnose it, sometimes even before they realize something’s wrong with them.”

“Yeah.” I shrug. It’s a weird superpower and I hate it. I don’t just sense another person’s sickness; I can feel it as if it were my own illness. If someone has heart problems, my heart hurts also. If they have a broken arm, I feel their pain in my arm too. It’s a terrible affliction, and it’s all Blackstone’s fault. I wouldn’t have developed this ability if my life hadn’t depended on it.

“Did you do it to yourself?” she asks.

“Do what?”

“Scan yourself to see if anything’s broken.”

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