Page 14 of Carver
Bronte’s head snaps up. She looks over her shoulder. I get the side profile of her lovely face, tear-stained and flushed, but always so beautiful and gentle. “Thank you. We’ll be right there.”
Dravin gets even more flustered. “Do you need any help here?”
I’m a hot fucking mess, and Bronte’s clutching a bloody wad of gauze.
I’m about to shake my head. Do I ever accept help readily or easily? That’s a trick question. Bronte nods. “Yes, please. That would be amazing.”
Dravin doesn’t ask what we need or what he should do. He walks right into the room, sets the mugs down on the nightstand and gives me the buddy lift where he bends, gets his shoulder under my arm and lifts me up. Thank fuck. If I’d stood up on my own, I probably would have blacked out. He walks me straight to the bathroom, plants my hand on the sink, fills it with warm water, and leaves me with a washcloth and a towel. As I clean myself up carefully, avoiding the stitched side altogether, I hear Bronte asking Dravin if he’d mind helping her bandage her palm. He replies in a deep, calm tone, telling her that he’d be more than happy to help.
I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow or even five minutes from now. I don’t know how to fix the broken pieces ofmy life or myself or how to atone for what I’ve done to Bronte. I don’t know how to start believing in the future again.
There’s no way I should be here.
There’s no way I deserve half of this kindness.
Bronte.
Dravin.
Kael.
The baffling support of the club.
Grace isn’t aboutdeservingand kindness often doesn’t ask for anything in return. I’d see that if I could just stop fighting the world, myself, the past, the ghosts, my head, and the memories, for just a single second.
I need tostop. I need torest. I’m safe here. Safe with people who care, and wholoveme. What if I just accepted that? What if I opened my eyes and let it all fucking go? Breathed in and out and let myself hear the whispers that have been twisted up in my brain as a silent scream since I was a kid.What if I let myself want to live, and then just did it?
Chapter 4
Bronte
The three of us are sitting down at the table drinking smoothies when the door opens and Kael appears. I’d followed Dravin from the clubhouse when I got to Hart. Before he brought me to his apartment, he told me that the tattoo shop is owned by a guy from the club. There are stairs inside leading to the apartment, but they usually use the ones at the back.
I was worried about him leaving Dominic alone after major surgery and I said as much while we climbed up the metal staircase that resembled a fire escape and not an actual entrance. Dravin assured me that Dom didn’t need watching, but that his old lady was with him. She’d just called while we were driving and told him that she had to run out to the library. That made me smile. I never knew if Dominic actually read the books I was bringing him, or if he’d given up completely on languages, which he loved so much before.
Kael freezes, eyeing the three of us, then slowly sets down the bulging canvas bag with a smiley face on the front. “I knew I shouldn’t have left. This has clearly gone to shit, and I’ve only been gone for an hour.”
Dravin pushes back his chair. The shop beneath us isn’t tiny and the upstairs has been remodeled and is spacious. The kitchen faces the back alley, but the large window lets in a good amount of light. It spills over the round wood table, highlighting the wood grains.
He crosses the kitchen to Kael, then picks her right up and spins her until she squeals. My heart squeezes, increasing the booming pressure in my hand and temple. I’m not going to cry again. I’mnot.
“Dravin!” Kael squawks. “You can’t distract me like that. They’ve clearly been crying. What’s going on?”
Okay, so Dravin obviously told Kael about my campout at the club and that I’d be coming back sometime today.
She peeks over Dravin’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, he has this Neanderthal habit of hiking me up and tossing me around like this. It’s just lucky I’m not talking to you upside down.” She swats his shoulder. She’s muscular to the point of jacked, but she’s still tiny compared to Dravin’s massive form.
Are all bikers this big? I could see them working out together in some club gym, but is there a height and weight requirement to join, like they have on carnival rides?
“Are you both alright? Were those happy tears or did something go down?” She’s so nosy, but in that sweet, concerned way that my sister often is.
Dom studies his smoothie. He’s to my left. He could have taken the chair I did and angled himself away from me, but instead he trusted me to sit here, almost like a shield. As it always has been, the urge to take care of him, protect him, and fight for him is strong. I’m not a guarded person. I find that the opposite actually works wonders. People don’t expect softness. It’s disarming.
“We’re okay.” I mean it.
That alone causes the sharp sting to lodge in the bridge of my nose again. I’ve been living in a jar of honey, trapped andpetrified, unable to move forward. I could go back into my memories. For a while, they were torture, but I clung to the sweetness of them to see me through.
“How did you hurt yourself?” Kael presses, staring directly at my hand.
