Stone’s ears go slightly red. “She’s been . . . helpful. With club stuff. And other things.”
“Other things?”
“Drop it, Bones.”
I grin despite everything. “Yes, sir.”
After Stone talks with Dr. Hines, we head back inside and find Emma looking slightly less devastated, though still shaken. Stone takes a seat next to his daughter.
“The doctor says you’ll need to schedule the surgery soon,” Stone says. “I can help with that. Make some calls, get you in with the best surgeon.”
“I don’t even know if I want the surgery,” Emma says. “If there’s no guarantee I’ll dance again, what’s the point?”
“The point is, you’re in pain,” I say, moving to her other side. “The point is fixing what’s broken so you can at least have a normal life, whether that includes dance or not.”
She looks between me and Stone, chewing her bottom lip.
“OK,” Emma says finally. “OK. I’ll do the surgery.”
17
EMMA
“You ready for this?” Bones asks, his hands resting on the wheelchair handles behind me.
I look up at the Stoneheart MC clubhouse, which is absolutely covered in Christmas lights despite it being July. There’s an inflatable Santa out front that’s slightly deflated, giving it a drunk, wobbly appearance. Garland is wrapped around the porch railings and someone has hung oversized ornaments from the eaves.
It’s completely ridiculous.
I love it.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I say, smoothing down my sundress. It’s one of the few things that fits over the massive boot on my right leg. Five days post-surgery and I’m still trying to wrap my head around the six weeks of recovery ahead of me. I’m in this chair for at least a week—maybe longer depending on how healing goes—but then I can at least get around on crutches. As someone who’s used to living and dying by control, it’s humblingas hell to be at the mercy of your own body. But I’m learning to let go a little. Or at least to look good doing it.
“They’re excited to see you,” Bones says, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of my head. “Half the club has been asking when you’d be healed enough to come out.”
“I’m on so many painkillers I might not remember any of this.”
“Then I’ll remind you tomorrow.” He wheels me toward the entrance. “And probably show you embarrassing photos.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“I absolutely would.”
The door swings open before we reach it and Kya appears, dressed in a Santa hat and a tank top that says ‘Sleigh All Day.’
“She’s here!” Kya yells back into the clubhouse. “Emma’s here!”
“Oh god,” I mutter as what sounds like half of Stoneheart cheers from inside.
“Too late to run,” Bones says, amused. “Well. Roll. Too late to roll away.”
Kya holds the door as Bones navigates the wheelchair through. Inside is chaos—the good kind. The entire main room has been transformed into a winter wonderland, complete with a massive Christmas tree in the corner, the traditional biker-themed nativity scene where the pool table normally is, and tinsel everywhere.
“Surprise!” everyone yells, and I actually jump in the chair.
“What is all this?” I ask, looking around at the decorations, the people, the sheer absurdity of Christmas in July.
“You missed Christmas,” Lee says, appearing with a beer in hand and a matching Santa hat. “So we’re doing it again.”
