Page 4 of Won't Let Go
Knees knocking together, she wrings her fingers in front of her. “I’m sorry. I promised.”
“Yeah. And so did I. I promised I’d protect her, and that’s what I’m fucking doing.”
The rumble of motorcycles fills the night air, arriving moments before the ambulance. Blimp bounds up the steps. His heavy steps shake the deck as he wraps his arms around my mother and curses up a storm at the unconscious body of my best friend dying at his feet.
I shake her shoulder, not giving a fuck how rough I am. If she dies, it won’t matter anyhow.
Another pound to Jade’s back, and she coughs. The sweetest relief washes through me as one cough turns into two and then three, followed by an agonizing groan before she vomits water and alcohol all over the deck, and I rub her back through it all.
When Jade’s done, I carefully turn her onto her back. Those stunning green eyes, with lashes matted with water, blink up at me as her chest heaves for air, and her lips fill with color.
“You fucking bastard,” she croaks, then breaks into a rough coughing fit.
I smile.
I know it’s a dick move, but I do. Their plan was foiled, and now I don’t need to parent a teenager on my own, while my best friend is cremated or buried six feet under.
Leaning over the pain in my ass, I cup the back of her neck and stare straight into those angry eyes. “You don’t get to die before me. You hear me?”
“Fuck. You,” she snarls between coughs.
“What? You love me?” I taunt, and Jade huffs. “Oh. Wait. You’re sorry you almost made me a single father?” I finish with a low growl, furious with her. Furious with myself for not seeing this sooner. Furious with my mother for not doing what’s right.
Two men with a stretcher join us with a horde of my brothers at their backs. I move out of the way to give them room to work. We can discuss this later once she’s checked out.
Jade glares at me the entire time. Her black hair makes her look like an adorable, drowned rat as it sticks to her head. Her pale, tattooed skin is still tinged blue, but she’s alive. That’s all I care about.
From the moment they put her on the stretcher, to when I follow them to the ambulance, and they slide her inside, I get a death glare. When I climb in to ride along, refusing to let her out of my sight, I wonder if I’ll catch fire and burn to a crisp from the heat of her rage.
My leg bounces on the short journey to the hospital, but I don’t take my eyes off her, not even when the loud rumble of my brothers’ tailpipes follows us. I catch them out of the back window, staying close. I’m grateful—for them, for their support, and for their patience with me.
It’s been over a year since Jade and my mom were rescued from that warehouse. A year of me keeping an eye on her andHunter, supporting them, and dealing with her wrath. Because she’s angry. With men. With life. With me. I’m always in the way. Always cleaning the house, cooking, and making sure everything is handled. I’ve stopped going on runs for the club, even though we’re at war. I’ve neglected my girlfriend. It’s a goddamn miracle she’s still dating me at all.
When we arrive at the hospital, I hop out first, dripping water from my sodden jeans as they roll her in. Knowing I need to give them space to do their thing, I beg off and find my brothers as the doctors assess Jade.
Big, my prez, is standing outside the emergency department's doors. “No, Sugar Tits, you aren’t coming,” he snaps, talking to his old lady on the phone. “We’ve got it covered. I’ll be home when I’m home.”
Blimp pulls up in Mom’s car, and she darts out of the passenger side. I snatch her around the waist before she gets past me.
“I need to see her,” Mom demands, frantically reaching for the doors as Blimp leaves the car idling out front and Gypsy jumps in to park it for him.
Shaking my head, I haul Mom into her man’s arms, so he can deal with her. I don’t have time for this shit. You don’t get to sit and watch your friend try to kill herself and then barge your ass through the doors to see if she’s okay once I saved her.
Nobody is going in there but me.
Not the Sacred Sisters.
Not my fucking mother.
Not the brothers.
Nobody.
I don’t care what Jade wants. She lost that privilege when she decided the world was better off without her. It’s not, in case you were wondering.
When Big finally gets off the call, he clasps me on the shoulder. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. I’m standing outside an emergency department, soaking wet, with no shoes on. That says enough, doesn’t it?
Fuck.
