God, there was so much blood.
“Don’t worry,” I told him. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Sabrina,” he croaked, and I thought he might be fighting to remain conscious. “I’m sorry.”
“No,” I said, taking ahold of his hand and intertwining our fingers. “Don’t apologize. Don’t look for closure here, because you’re not getting it. You’re going to be just fine.”
I silently prayed that my words were true. I didn’t know enough about the human body to be able to tell if the knife had hit any vital organs.
But I needed him to be fine. Nothing else was acceptable. How did I ever think that I could live without this man? The idea of marrying someone else was laughable. Why would I do that when I had this fun, thoughtful biker?
I was such an idiot, but I would make it up to him. I’d show him how much he meant to me, no matter what it took.
The sound of an ambulance approaching was a sweet relief. Help was on the way. I looked up at Lance to see that he looked panicked. Annie was on the other end of the line, trying to talk him into staying, to calm him down, but I could see that he wasn’t going to.
Turning to me, he tossed the phone my way. As I caught it, he turned away and ran.
“I’m sorry, Annie,” I said into the phone as I watched him disappear into the shadows. “He’s gone.”
Butch
I hated hospitals. Everything was so bright and white, it felt cold. And it always smelled weird, like chemicals.
Shouldn’t a place of healing be more comforting?
No sooner had that thought crossed my mind than the door of my room opened and in walked an angel with blond hair and a sweet smile.
Sabrina had ridden with me to the hospital, but when we arrived, they whisked me away, leaving her in the waiting room. I was knocked out right after that, which was a blessing. The pain had been getting unbearable.
When I woke up, the wound had been stitched and pain killers were being delivered through an IV. I had no idea how long I was unconscious, but it wasn’t long before a new kind of torture arrived in the form of two detectives investigating my attack and the death of the Las Balas member in the parking lot. I learned that his name was Hose Guerrero, but I didn’t know what his biker name was.
I didn’t have much information for them, and they seemed frustrated, but at least they didn’t seem to suspect me of any wrongdoing. I had the feeling that Sabrina had something to do with that. They’d mentioned interviewing her while I was getting stitched up.
After they left, I was disappointed that Sabrina didn’t come in right away. She wouldn’t leave me here alone, would she?
Now I saw that she’d been at the diner, since she was carrying a bag with Tiny’s logo stamped on it.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, coming to my bedside and putting a hand on my shoulder. Her warmth came through the hospital gown, and I wanted to feel so much more of it.
“Well, it’s not my finest hour, but they say I’ll be okay.”
“Thank God.” She swallowed hard. “You scared me there for a minute.”
I tried to sit up, but my stomach screamed in protest, so I stayed reclined, trying to hide my pain, but she saw through it.
“What can I do to help you?” she asked, running her eyes ever me from head to toe, as if she were trying to locate the source of my pain.
“You can come closer,” I said, holding my arms out.
Sabrina didn’t hesitate. Moving into my embrace, she was careful not to hurt me. I buried my face in her hair, inhaling the fruity scent of her shampoo. It was familiar and comforting; suddenly, the hospital didn’t feel so depressing.
When she pulled away, Sabrina held up the bag from the diner. “I got your favorite, the chicken sandwich.”
I smiled. “First you help me in the parking lot, now you save me from hospital food. Is there anything you can’t do?”
“Don’t tell anyone, but I’m a terrible singer.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.”
