Page 23 of Wick
I look between the two of them and find myself speechless for a moment. "I don't remember asking for anyone's opinion. And I sure as hell don't need you," I glare at Malik, "trying to run my life."
"Not tryin' to run your life, babe. You need someone to look after you while you heal. I've got a big house, and you and I both know the entire club will pitch in if you need them."
I divert my eyes to my dad, who is still suppressing a small grin. You can't see it, but his eyes give his amusement away. "It may be a good idea, Pumpkin. I'm much slower these days. Not that I wouldn’t enjoy you being back at home." He rubs the back of his neck. "But I wouldn’t be much help. You'd benefit more staying with Malik."
Malik stands just behind my dad's right shoulder. He folds his arms across his broad chest, with a look of accomplishment on his face, utterly satisfied with himself. Why he wants to keep me close, I don’t understand. Having me under his ass all the time for a few weeks is going to test us both more than he realizes.
"I'll feel better knowing Malik will be there if you need him." My dad puts the final nail in the coffin, making the final decision for me with his admission. At least that is what I tell myself; that I'm doing this for my Daddy's peace of mind. Truth be told. I didn't need that hard of a push.
"Okay, Daddy." I give him my answer, and he smiles at me. Even though I can still feel Malik's eyes on me, I don't look back at him.
"I hate to keep you, and I'm due to attend a conference call in an hour. I'll need everyone's official reports on the incident turned in within a week," Scott chimes in, making sure he looks to each of us his comment was directed to. Scott turns, extending his hand to my dad. "Mr. Wilder, it was good seeing you again. You have one hell of a fighter there." Scott looks back over his shoulder at me. "One hell of a soldier."
"Best damn daughter I could ever ask for." Pride shines in my dad's eyes as he says those words, and my heart swells.
"Malik," Scott shakes his hand as well. "Take care of her."
"Always." Malik nods.
My stomach rumbles, letting me know I still have food in front of me that I would like to eat, and Cowboy chuckles.
"Thor and I are heading out," he says, and I stop him.
"You don't have to go."
"They gave us our discharge papers more than two hours ago. We've just been hanging around because we weren't leaving until you woke up, and we put eyes on you." Thor steps to the other side of my bed.
"You two going home?" Tearing off a piece of my apple fritter, I pop it into my mouth.
"In a few more days. Thor here is heading home today since he has the furthest to go. I'm hanging back until they release Preacher, then I'm heading home to the ranch," Cowboy informs. Thor bends, kissing the top of my head, and Cowboy comes around the foot doing the same. Some people may see their affection as odd, but we've known one another for a long time, working side by side on many missions. The two of them, along with Preacher, are like brothers to me. They are my family. Chancing a glance at Malik, I take in his expression. One of possession and I roll my eyes.
The two hug my dad and regard Malik before leaving my hospital room. Lying in bed, I finish my meal and drink my coffee while Malik and my dad talk about mundane things like work and fishing. The whole time, Malik stealing glances my way.
There's a knock on the door, followed by a nurse walking into the room, holding papers in her hand. "Miss Wilder, I have your discharge papers. You are free to go home."
Chapter Nine
Wick
Vayda has yet to say a word since we stepped through the door of my house. In all honesty, I don't know what I was thinking bringing her here. All I knew was I wanted to keep her close to me. I almost lost her, and it was that thought alone that had me making the rash decision she'd be staying at my house. I want to be the one to take care of her.I'm so fucking gone over this woman.Seeing Vayda busted up the way she is, understanding what that motherfucker did to her, has unleashed something dark inside me. Something that even I am unfamiliar with. It's the kind of darkness I welcome; one that will wreak havoc on Cortez the moment I get my hands on him. If not for Riggs, I don't know what I would have done when Vayda confessed how she got her injuries. Her battered body carries evidence of where Benito beat her. She told me how she fought him off to keep him from raping her. Thank fuck he didn't succeed. Vayda Wilder is no shrinking violet. She is not one to roll over and accept defeat. Vayda is a fighter. The fact she or any woman would have to fight a man to keep them from taking what he has no right attempting to take, has me seeing red. In my line of work, I have seen what happens to women when men like Cortez brutalized them. Some survive and are able to move on to live somewhat normal lives, while others succumb to the demons that are created, eventually pulling them under. Not that those women are not strong, they just choose to find their peace a different way. I don't want to think about the kind of woman Vayda would have become had the situation made a different turn. To have the woman in front of me lose her light; to become anything but the amazing human being she is, would have gutted me.
Shaking those unwanted thoughts away, I stop focusing on the what-ifs and come back to the present, where I watch Vayda's eyes scan her surroundings. I don't have to ask if she recognizes what she's looking at. Vayda has never been very good at masking what she's thinking. I know damn well she remembers what she told me all those years ago.
The longer we stand here in the middle of the living room, neither one of us saying anything, the more embarrassed I become. And I'm not one to get embarrassed easily. But really, what kind of person does something like this. Apparently, me. I swear this woman has buried herself deep down in my soul and planted roots there. She doesn't even have to do anything. All it takes is one look, and I'm ruined. It's the very look that has currently taken over her beautiful face. First there was a look of shock, then confusion. It's the last one that does me in. Wonderment.
Vayda continues to walk from the living room to the kitchen, and she stays silent. I know she is not going to mention anything about the house, and neither am I. Truth be told, I wouldn't know what to say. It seems we are both content with my home being the giant elephant in the room... for now.
Vayda clears her throat, breaking the deafening silence. "You just moved in?"
I keep my face expressionless. "No. Been here a few years."
She takes in my kitchen, which is bare—no stools sitting at the island. There is not so much as a fruit bowl on the countertop. Only a small two-person table sits near the large bay window overlooking the backyard. "I stay at the clubhouse more than I do here." I shrug my shoulders.
"Why would you buy such a beautiful house and not make it home?"
Shit. I guess Vayda wants to go there.Of course, she fucking would.
I hold Vayda's challenging stare. Not backing down from her interrogation, I reply. "You know why."
