Page 89 of Enemy
“I’m not a Butcher anymore,” Clyde says through gritted teeth. “You see any patches on me?”
Prophet spreads his arms. “Are you asking me for protection now? After all the shit you did over the years? You made your bed, now you lay in it.Withoutmy enforcer!”
My skull feels so hot even the air boils as I breathe it in. “He will never sleep without me again. I’ll be making him my husband,” I say without thinking, but the comfort I feel the moment those words pass from my lips is impossible to describe. I’m at peace. Happy, even though I almost died last night.
Clyde gives me an uncertain glance, but isn’t opposing me, and even squeezes my hand harder.
Prophet blinks a few times, staring at me as if I’ve lost my mind, but I haven’t. I’ve never been more lucid. “You’re serious about this.” It’s more of a statement than a question, which is a good indicator that he’s starting to get it. And since he hasn’t left, slamming the door behind himself minutes ago, convincing him to take Clyde under our protection might be an option.
But he’s not only my friend, but also my prez, and I respect him more than anyone else, so I lower my head and exhale. “I fucked up, I know, and I am ready for you guys to judge me. But I will die before I let anyone take him, so if you don’t want me back—” My throat constricts in a painful twitch, and I swallow, trying to even out my tone, make it less breathy and pathetic than it sounds to my ears. I am placing Clyde above the club, ready to leave if they won’t take him, and that’s already unforgivable, but it is what it is, and Prophet needs to know it. “Just say so.”
Prophet groans. “Fine. We’ll talk about this at the club. If we don’t all get blown to pieces in the parking lot,” he adds grimly.
I swallow the bitterness at the back of my throat, watching my best friend wrestle with the secret I’ve been keeping from him. It was within his rights to refuse, but I am so fucking glad that he isn’t ready to throw me away before thinking it through.
“Whatever you want me to give up on, I will, as long as it’s not him,” I mumble, feeling my hand sweating around Clyde’s. The rush of protective feelings emboldened me tostand by him, but am I brave enough to pull our relationship out of the shadows for everyone else to see?
We have to call a nurse to unhook me from everything, and the silence between my prez and my man is deafening, but at least it’s not Clyde’s aunt discharging me.
“Are you sure you’re ready to leave the hospital?” Clyde whispers while Prophet watches us from his spot in the corner of the oppressive room.
I’m not feeling great, and the doctor advised me against leaving so soon, but I’ll feel much safer in my own home, participating in any decisions that need to be made. I am already tired and by the time I’m ready to go, there’s nothing I want more than to stay, especially as I’m pretty sure a little boost of coke is out of the question. But I’m a big boy and let Clyde hook his arm around mine as we pad to the door.
Prophet raises his eyebrows at me. “You sure you want the guys to see…?”
Stupid fucking question. There is no going back now.
Clyde clears his throat. “We don’t have to—”
But I grab him before he pulls away. He gave everything up to save me—twice—and I will not let him down, no matter how much bullshit I need to endure.
“What, you think I should pretend he and I are ‘besties’?”
Prophet groans and spreads his arms as we walk out into the corridor. “Jesus Christ. Do whatever you think is right here, because I sure as fuck don’t know.”
Clyde strokes my forearm, so I’m gonna take that as a win, even though I’m not sure how to be gay in public either. I’ve never told anyone before Clyde, and while there have been moments when I’ve wanted to talk about it online, to strangers who lived far away and couldn’t possibly have any bearing on my life, I chickened out each time. As if clickingsendmight get me swatted by homophobes.
But I want this. I want Clyde. And at this point, I can either go with the flow full force or lose him. I can’t have that.
It’s not a big hospital, not like the behemoth of a building where he and I both recovered after the explosion at the warehouse, but it still takes us ages to get anywhere close to the exit. There’s tension among the staff, and Prophet hovers his hand close to the gun at his hip, but I hope the neutral ground rules still stand, and that I won’t die in a shootout right after miraculously surviving.
Not before I marry Clyde.
It just rolled off my tongue to say that he will be my husband, but now that I’ve put it out there, I need it more than I need air. I want to make sure he has a place with me, that he knows how committed I am to what we have, and that everyone knows too and treats him accordingly.
We turn the corner, blinded by sunlight, and the scene at the parking lot is a standoff. One pack of wolves eying the other. The bikes of the Butchers glisten in the bright sun, and there’s more of them. On our side, most of my club brothers wait on their motorcycles, along with Rooster sitting on the hood of a car.
Only now it hits me that my bike must have been left by the lake, but in the state I’m in, it’s better if I go by car.
Grizzly straightens, his eyes hidden behind black sunglasses. “Don’t make me come get you, Clyde.”
I really fucking want to grab him by the collar and beat him to his knees in front of his men, but I’m faint like a runway model before the most important show of the year, so that’s not on the cards today.
“You two can chat at Thanksgiving,” I shout back, trying to focus on my friends, who don’t look like they might shank me the moment I approach. Still, they eye me with a wariness I’m not used to from them.
Rooster opens the car door for me, but stares down Clyde as though he’s toxic waste. “Why is he coming?”
“So he can suck all your dicks!” One of the Butchers yells from the other side, triggering Clyde into action.
