Page 10 of Chelsea’s Knight

As soon as Poseidon bangs his gavel on the table, we all scoot back our chairs, hop out of our seats and head out from the room.

My mission, tracking down Chelsea and spending some quality time with her. Alone.

* * *

“Thank you for coming to get me,” Chelsea says to me as I help her climb into my truck.

“Nothing else I would rather be doing, babe,” I reply. “Good thing I brought the truck and not my bike, though, because you’ve managed to accumulate a lot of stuff during your stay.”

Although in reality, there’s no way I would put her on the bike just yet since she’s still recovering.

Her giggles have me grinning as I move to the driver’s side. Once I ensure she’s buckled up, I crank my truck and revel in the purr of my engine as it fires to life. The speaker booms and vibrates, echoing throughout the cab which has me leaning over and immediately turning down the volume a few notches on the radio.

“Sorry about that, I was obviously jamming last night after I left from visiting you. That’s not something I wanna do right now, though.”

“That was a good song. You’ve obviously got phenomenal taste in music,” she replies.

As I hit the interstate that’ll lead us home, I reach over discreetly and take her hand in mine, lacing our fingers together, which has her breath hitching.

Stroking my thumb across her wrist’s pressure point, I notice that her pulse is speeding up too.

Out of my peripheral vision, I see her sneaking glances over at me so I take my eyes off the road momentarily so I can send her a flirty wink and grin.

Breaking the silence, I tell her, “You and me, it’s happening, Chelsea. I know your memories are still scattered all over the place, but I don’t give a fuck. You know you’re important to me and I can tell you’ve got feelings for me too. Now, I was planning to take you out for something to eat on our way back home, but Momma M and Mary decided you needed a homemade meal‘cooked with love’they said, so we’re gonna have a small welcome home party for you at the clubhouse. Nothing too elaborate, I promise, but you know right now, CeeCee will use any occasion to have a cake baked.”

“Are you sure about this?” she asks, squeezing my hand with uncertainty. “I mean, you could do so much better than a woman who’s now damaged and has a lifelong brain issue. I don’t even know if I can have kids, Canyon, and I won’t take that possibility away from you.”

“Beyond positive. I know we’ve both got some baggage to get rid of, but I’m willing to let you help me unpack mine and I’ll help you unload yours. With regard to kids, well, honestly, there are so many running around the clubhouse at this point that we can get our fill then give them back, but if you had your heart set on being a mother, there are other options available to us if your doctor doesn’t think you should risk a pregnancy.”

“Right now, kids of my own are so far off the spectrum, let’s worry about us, and cross that bridge if we ever come to it,” she compromises.

The fact that she’s considering a future with me has my chest puffing out and a satisfied male-like purr resounding throughout the truck’s cab.

“One step at a time, babe, that’s how we’re gonna do this,” I promise. “Now, tomorrow, you’re coming into the shop with me so I can tattoo the medical alert I designed on your wrist.”

“I’m both excited and petrified about doing that,” she admits.

“Tell me what those concerns are. Break those feelings down for me one at a time and let’s ease each worry, Chels,” I press, wanting her to face whatever fears it is she’s experiencing.

“I’m not scared of needles, per se, but I’m pretty picky about what’s going to be permanently etched on my skin. The fact that you’ve drawn one up specifically for me settles that anxiety a little. I’m excited because I’ve been considering a tattoo for a long time, but never knew exactly what it is I wanted to get.” Her head tilts to the side as she considers if there’s anything else she needs or wants to add to that list.

“It’s not too over the top, but the design will be noticeable to onlookers in the event you’re alone and have an episode. I’ve used the medical alert symbol, then underneath in an easy-to-read script, I’ll tat epilepsy as your disorder. Now, what I’d like you to create or find to purchase is a small wallet-sized information card where you can list your doctor’s name, the medications you take as well as the dosages, and what to do for you in case you're passed out and are in need of emergency intervention.”

“Can I make one teeny-tiny request first?” she asks. When I nod my head, letting her know I’m all ears, she continues. “Can you make it look feminine?”

“Yeah, babe, it’ll be perfect. It was styled just for you and will fit your expectations to a T. I have a feminine font template that I can let you choose from if you’d like. The styles vary from cursive script to a more block style. The options are endless. One other thing—” I leave my sentence hanging, trying to find the right words to use that don’t cause her to go into panic mode.

She already complains that we’ve done too much for her as it is.

“Okay, now I’m feeling bombarded,” she teases. “Go ahead, Canyon.”

“We’ve got a club we’re friendly with and one of the brothers in their crew trains a variety of dogs who offer a multitude of services. He’s the one who got Atlas his dog and also found the one for Patsy. While their dogs are geared to help them specifically with their PTSD, he can train one to help and detect your seizures. Sometimes they know when you’re going to get hit with an episode before the warning signs show themselves to you.”

“No. Absolutely not, Canyon. Do you know how much one of those dogs costs?”

Her eyes are wide, her jaw is flapping like she’s gearing up to have a come to Jesus meeting with me.

“Because trust me, my poppa did all the research years ago to see about getting one for me and it was more than any of us expected. He was going to ask Gia’s parents for help, but I wouldn’t let him do that. He was such a proud man, Canyon, but for me, he was going to beg. I’ve gotten along well enough all these years without a dog, I’ll be fine now, I promise.”

---