Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
I crouched down beside the hospital bed, caught her face in my own hands, and said, “If you don’t want me helping you until we figure out how you can do it yourself, we’ll hire someone. I’m fuckin’ rich, baby. I can afford it.”
She keened, rocking back and forth. “I can’t even hold on to you anymore when we ride.”
That made my fuckin’ heart sink right into the deepest pits of my chest.
“Even if I have to have you ride in front of me, you’ll be on my bike, baby. I don’t care if I have to strap you down to the bike, or straight to me, back to chest. You’ll be there, every fuckin’ mile, for as long as I’m able to hold that bike up,” I promised her.
She sniffled, bringing her head up so that she could see my face.
When she read the promise there, another tear slipped free as she said, “I love you, Jeremiah.”
I brought my hand up to the side of her face, brushed the tear away with a swipe of my thumb over the apple of her cheek, then said the words that I swore to myself I’d never say to another living being. “I love you so fuckin’ much that my chest hurts with it.”
She sniffled.
“Sometimes, when I look at you, and fall deep into your eyes, I feel this ache right here,” I banged my chest with a closed fist. “It feels like you’re fisting my heart and squeezing it with an invisible hand right inside my chest.”
She swallowed hard. “That’s all I’ll ever be able to touch you with from now on. An invisible hand.”
I grabbed her shoulder, causing her body to tilt sideways. “Ow!” she cried.
“I’m not shallow, baby,” I told her. “My love language isn’t about touch. I don’t need you always on top of me to know that you love me. All those times that you cleaned up the dishes, when I know you hate to do them? That was how I knew you loved me.” She opened her mouth, but I continued. “All those times that you sat with me, reading a book, while you allowed me to read a book, too? That’s showing me you love me. Because you know that I need the silence to unwind.”
She swallowed hard.
“Or when you were fresh out of a coma, and dealt with Rachel, so I wouldn’t have to? That really showed me you loved me,” I told her. “I don’t need your hands on me. I don’t need you to bake me things. I don’t need you to do anything except be there. To do the hard things with me so I don’t have to do them by myself.”
Last night, after I’d gone home to take a shower, I’d been informed upon arriving back that Rachel had arrived for ‘answers.’ She’d wanted those answers from me, but had gotten Gracie instead. And, according to the doctors and nurses on shift, Gracie had let Rachel have it. As in, Rachel had left in tears, and Gracie had been smiling when I’d come back in after my shower.
She let out a quivering sigh, and I felt it prudent to point out the obvious. “You’re not going to get me to leave.”
She leaned forward and rested her head on my shoulder, then very carefully pressed her bandaged arms against my chest. “I’ll take you up on that person to wipe my butt.”
I snickered. “I’ve seen it all before.”
“You haven’t,” she disagreed. “And you won’t. There are things that I’ll allow you to do for me… but if I can have that dignity, I’ll take it. I love you, but I won’t have you show your love like that.”
I grumbled something under my breath that made her giggle.
It was the most beautiful sound in the world.
“How much longer do you think I’ll have to stay in the hospital?” she asked.
The answer was three more days.
In those three days, I’d had her apartment completely emptied. I’d explained to her roommate, who’d moved into the space next door with her new husband for the time being, what had happened.
I’d then had to deal with an overly emotional Anisa being at the hospital twenty-four seven, along with every other woman in the Battle Crows MC.
It was like an estrogen fest that I couldn’t wait to have split up.
The moment I helped her from the truck and into my cabin, she knew that I’d moved all her stuff in.
All she did was offer a smile.
And I knew that this would all work out.
She may not ever be the same, but she’d find a way to make it.
• • •
That ‘way’ came a month and a half later.
The bandages were gone.
Her head was sewn back together.
Her hair was hiding the bald spot.
And we were sitting in a doctor’s office that specialized in prosthetics.