Tears of relief filled my eyes. Johnny had become my best friend. We shared secrets about our lives that no one else knew. “Indigo?” He’d been shot too. They both had while trying to protect me and Karlyn.
“He’s okay too. It was touch and go for a bit, but Patch said he’ll be fine.” I nodded. I was glad he was okay. I felt guilty enough for dragging Karlyn out there; I didn’t need someone’s death on my conscience.
“Grace?” I turned to Haizley. “When you’re ready to talk, we’re here.” I opened my mouth, and she held her hand up. “Not as a therapist, unless you decide you want that. As your friends.”
I nodded. There was nothing else to say. I grabbed some clothes and moved into my bathroom. I stared at the shower, remembering how gentle he was, how he whispered in my ear that he loved me.
I fell to my knees and let out a sob. Sam rushed in, kneeling on the floor beside me, and pulled me into her arms. I clung to her as I cried. I cried for all the time King and I had lost fighting with each other and all the time we would never have now.
“We’ve got you, Grace. Let it out, baby. Let it go,” Sam cried with me. I heard it in the sound of her voice, and I cried harder. These women would look at me the same way Karlyn did whenthey learned the truth. And just like my mother, I would be alone.
“Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up,” Sam said as my wails turned to whimpers and then sniffles. Beck reached in and turned the water on.
“How hot do you want it?” she asked, and all I could do was shrug. I didn’t have enough strength to talk, let alone shower. The river had washed away the smell of the men. It had washed away the cum they’d left all over me. But it couldn’t wash away the memory.
Nothing would.
Sam helped me undress and gasped when she saw the marks and bruises. Looking down, I felt numb. Like I was looking at someone else. I didn’t see the cuts, the marks from their hands and teeth.
All I saw was the mess. I could still feel it on my skin. After they were done with me, it had dried on my skin. As I sat on the ground, a gun to my head while we waited, my skin itched. I felt dirty. Because I was. It was gone now. The power of the river had cleansed my skin, but nothing would cleanse my soul.
I looked at the mud on my hands. I’d filled the hole in Jackson’s chest with mud to stop the bleeding. There wasn’t enough mud on the planet to fill the hole in my soul. Nothing to stop my soul hemorrhaging. I was empty.
I stepped into the shower and turned the heat up. I wanted to cleanse my skin, burn off the reminders of what happened. I stood under the water, letting it burn my skin.
“Grace, that’s too hot,” Sam scolded as she reached in and turned down the temperature. “I don’t know what you’re feeling, Grace. But I want you to know, we love you. We’re here for you.”
She spoke from the other side of the curtain, and I wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe that they wouldn’t turn their backs on me once they knew the truth. If I could just keep it tomyself until I was strong enough to leave. Strong enough to get by without them. Without the club. Without King. Then I could tell them the truth. And after, I would leave.
Maybe go back to New Orleans. Maybe look for somewhere new. I could look for Uncle Stephen. Maybe he would remember me. Maybe he would help me.
The water turned cold and I had no choice but to step out. Sam helped me dry off and get dressed, and she tucked me into bed like a mom would do for a child who was sick.
I missed my mom, but I couldn’t help but wonder how different my life would have been if she’d made different choices. Or would I have ended up right where I was regardless?
I lay in bed and tried to sleep; I really did. But every time I closed my eyes, I saw them. Laughing, stroking themselves. Skinner’s words ran on a loop in my head.
“This all could have been avoided if King had just given me what I wanted.”
What did he want? What did King keep from him? Would it really have mattered?
I tried to relax my body and breathe slowly and evenly, letting the girls think I was sleeping as I listened to them talking. I knew I shouldn’t be listening, but they were talking about me.
“How do we help her?” Beck asked. The compassion in her voice brought tears to my eyes.
“We let her come to us. We don’t push. It might be days; it might be years before she’s ready to talk about it. It’s her timeline, and hers alone.” I knew Haizley was right. But I felt like I owed it to them to tell them everything. Even if I didn’t want to.
I knew their secrets, their fears and their dreams, and they knew none of mine. I’d only just recently opened up to them about thinking Steele was my father. But I’d never really shared my life with them.
They changed the subject to babies and their men, and I dozed in and out, listening to their voices. Just hearing them in the room was comforting. It kept me grounded. Prevented me from transporting back to that room, that shack.
With them.
My eyes popped open when I heard the knock on the door. The bed jostled as one of the women stood up to answer it.
“She in here?” King asked, and I closed my eyes, desperately trying to hold back the sob. Just the sound of his voice brought me hope and heartache.
“She’s sleeping,” Sam answered. “She wanted to come here.” I heard the authority in Sam’s voice, and a small smile lifted the corners of my mouth. Sam was a mama bear, and she would stand up to the Devil himself to protect someone she loved. I’d miss that when I left.
