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Eventually, Sophia needs feeding, and I doze once they leave, my head pounding until I’m forced to shut my eyes.
When I wake, it’s dark in the room and there is a pill on the bedside table with a glass of water. A handwritten note tells me to take it.
Heidi doesn’t owe me shit, and yet here she is, taking care of me. I swallow down the pill, and it doesn’t take long for the effects of the drug to drag me back into sleep.
The next few days pass in this blur, with Heidi nursing me back to health while taking care of Sophia.
I last five days in bed before I begin to lose the will to live. I need to get up and get moving. The bruises are still ugly, but the pain is not as severe, and I’m able to stand for longer on my trips to the bathroom.
I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, catching my breath, when there’s a knock on the door. A moment later, Heidi breezes in with a tray of food for me. It’s a full English breakfast—toast, sausages, eggs, bacon, and all the side trimmings. It smells fucking divine.
“A guy could get used to this kind of service,” I joke.
She makes a low sound in the back of her throat. “I wouldn’t. As soon as you’re fighting fit, you’re on your own.”
I’m pretty sure she’s talking about taking care of me, but there is a part of me that thinks this might relate more broadly to our situation. I really don’t want her to leave.
“I’m grateful, and not just for breakfast,” I say.
“You don’t have to keep thanking me. I took care of Sophia because it was the right thing to do.” She places the tray on the bedside table, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I was angry with you. I won’t lie, I wanted to fucking strangle you for leaving, but I kept remembering the good old days, when we would sit in the clubhouse all together, drinking and having fun.”
A pang of pain spreads through my chest at the memories her words invoke. Everything had seemed easy back then. There was pressure, especially as I rose up the ranks of the club and Mara took on more senior positions in her job, but there were no Pioneers, no line of bodies dragging behind us, and no torment.
“That seems like a lifetime ago,” I mutter.
“Maybe two,” she adds with a small smile that doesn’t seem to reflect in her eyes. “But it can be reality again, Trick. I really am starting to believe it’s possible for things to be good.”
“Things are already good,” I say.
Her lips part slightly, that plump, kissable mouth begging to be taken. “They are?”
“I have you and I have my daughter. There was a time when I thought I was gonna die alone in some shit-stain of a warehouse. I didn’t expect to survive what I was doing, Heidi. So, yeah, wakin’ up in this house every day is fucking good.”
“Right. Yeah, I can see how this would be better.” She winces. “You should eat before it gets cold. I have to check on Sophia. Enjoy your breakfast.”
She flees the room as if the devil is on her heels, and I’m not surprised. Heidi runs from every aspect of her life—from her feelings, from the club, from dealing with her past. It’s a worrying trend, and one I intend to stop.
But first, breakfast.
I dig in, scoffing every morsel. My belly filled with food gives me a newfound strength and resolve. Still moving slowly, I pull on some clean clothes before I head to the bathroom.
Just as I’m about to step inside, Heidi comes up the stairs, presumably to grab my tray. Instantly, she gets that scowl on her face that I’m becoming familiar with.
“What are you doing?” She drops a hand to her hip, looking like a stern schoolteacher.
“I need a shower.”
She stares at me as if I’ve lost my fucking mind.
“What if you pass out?”
“I won’t.”
“Do you know that for certain? This is the first time you’ve been out of bed in days other than to pee.”
I lean against the doorjamb, enjoying this exchange far more than I should. “You’ll be here if anything happens.”
“Right,” she drawls sarcastically. “How do you think I’ll be able to get you off the floor if you fall?”
