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Chapter Six
It’s beensix hours since I saw Dane in the gym and my thoughts have been locked on him since. I have no idea how long he and Dax are staying, but part of me hopes it’s a while. I don’t know why, considering how we left things, but my need to see him again overrides everything.
“What is that idiot doing?” Jamie’s murmured question brings me out of my musing.
I follow her line of sight and see she’s fixated on King, who is hobbling across the room on crutches, trying to carry a large holdall while moving.
His casted leg is a reminder that we could have lost both him and Weed to the Reapers. As it is, he’s going to be laid up for a while—no riding, no sparring, no prospect duties. No tailing either. He would often follow me to work to make sure I got there safely, but since he can’t ride, that job will fall to another prospect or brother—once the lockdown lifts that is.
We’re on day four, and things show no sign of calming down yet. I have no idea how much longer this latest lockdown will last, but what I do know is as the time drags on, everyone becomes more anxious.
And it’s not just because we’re confined to the compound, but because we all know Dylan is a very real, very present threat, and with the Reapers, his old club, behind him, he becomes more dangerous.
He also isn’t showing any sign of caring. The fact he crashed into King and Weed’s car on a main road tells me everything I need to know. He isn’t scared of getting caught by the authorities, nor by the Club, and that’s concerning. He’s thrown all caution and rationality to the wind and has gone completely rogue. That scares me more than I want to admit. It makes me worry for my brothers, for the other lads in the Club, for my sister, and for my girls. I hate it.
I’m starting to feel like we’re all living on the edge of a cliff, waiting to be pushed over the side of it. Things feel tense, dangerous, and even though I long for my own space, I find myself gravitating towards the common room more and more, seeking the comfort of my family.
I don’t understand why, but I don’t question it either.
I’ve learnt over the years to trust myself and what I need, and right now, I need the familiarity of my world, which is how I find myself huddled around a table with Beth, Liv, Paige, Piper, Chloe, Clara, Jamie, Cami, Sofia and Sammy, watching King.
Jamie leaps up from the seat opposite me and moves like lightning to King’s side, taking his bag from him. My eyes narrow. I’ve noticed she’s been more attentive than usual, which makes me wonder if something is going on between the two of them, but then Jamie isn’t really the settle down type. She’s got a wild side that I doubt would be content in a relationship.
“She’s keen,” Cami says, sipping her drink.
Piper’s best friend has slotted in effortlessly with our girl clique. I’m glad. I like her and it would make things awkward for Piper if she wasn’t accepted.
“She’s got a thing for King,” Piper tells her absently, as she flicks through screens on her phone.
All eyes shift to Piper and she slowly glances up as she must feel the weight of the stares.
“What?” Sammy leans closer.
“How do you know that?” Paige demands to know, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder.
Gossip. We shouldn’t do it, but we have a network of spies greater than any the guys have. They may think we’re in the dark about what’s happening around us, but we find out everything, eventually.
“I see things.” Piper shrugs. “I can just tell.”
“I wonder what is going on there…” Beth twists in her seat to peer over her shoulder as Jamie lowers his bag at the side of the bar while he slips onto a stool. She takes his crutches from him and props them against the bar next to his seat.
Hmm.
When I let my gaze go back to the table and my friends, I notice Paige stares at King for a long moment. Then I see her throat working before she glances down at her hands.
Demons haunt her, like many of the women around this table. They’ve all had their share of trauma, but of everyone here, Paige has the most to fear from Dylan and his crew of Reapers. Of all the women here, she’s the only one who has been previously subjected to Dylan’s wrath. What happened that day in Wade’s flat, no one knows, and she sure as hell has never volunteered the information, but she was roughed up when Weed went on a rescue mission to get her. I can imagine her time with him wasn’t pleasant. I wish she would open up to someone.
“How long does King have to be on those things?” Liv asks, shifting the baby in her arms.
Danny has Dean’s colouring, but his features are mostly Liv’s. I can’t imagine the fear she must feel raising a baby while we’re at war with the Reapers. I know it’s affecting Beth, and that she fears bringing her child into this world we’re stuck in. I hope, for all their sakes, things will get better. I don’t want my niece or nephew growing up in this either.
“About twelve weeks total, maybe a little more. It depends how it’s healing.” Clara, who is a trauma nurse at Kingsley General Hospital, wrinkles her nose. “It was a bad break, so I’d expect a little more recovery time than estimated.”
“So, we have another month of her fawning all over him?” Sammy snorts. “She’s going to break her own legs with all this bowing and scraping she’s doing.”
Sammy isn’t wrong, but she is blunt, as usual. I don’t blame Jamie for being attentive. We could have lost King. As it was, he came out of the crash with the bones in his left leg shattered. They’re being held together with pins and a prayer.
All I know is I’m tired of my friends, my family being hurt. It’s been a non-stop deluge of bad luck since Beth first came home.
