Grace
We walked down the hall in the hospital, surrounded by bikers. King held my hand while Gunner, Big Ben, Ace, Romeo, Shotgun, and Zero made a circle around us.
It was the safest I’d felt in the last forty-eight hours.
We went to Johnny’s room first, and as my hand hovered over the doorknob, tears filled my eyes, afraid of what I’d see when I stepped inside his room. I closed my eyes for a moment, and King whispered behind me, “He’s gonna be okay, and he’s been asking for you.”
I nodded, took a deep breath, and walked inside, closing the door behind me. I’d asked King to stay outside in the hall. But Gunner had gone in first to make sure no one was in the room with him. He came back out, and they all blocked the door to make me feel safe.
I wasn’t sure I would ever feel safe again.
Johnny lay on the bed, a tube against his nose, another one disappearing into his arm. And his chest was bare, except for the bandages that covered the incision from his surgery.
“Grace,” he rasped, and I broke down. Tears rolled down my cheeks as Johnny lifted his hand to me. “Come here, big sister.”
I rushed over and grabbed his hand. “I’m so sorry, Johnny. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“Hey, this wasn’t your fault, Grace.”
“I should have stayed put. I never should have left the clubhouse.”
“Grace, look at me.”
I lifted my eyes, and the anger on his face hit me like a ton of bricks. I knew he would never forgive me.
“This was not your fucking fault. You don’t deserve to live your life locked up behind the clubhouse walls. You didn’t do anything wrong. Skinner is the only fucker to blame.”
“He’s dead, I think.”
“Yeah, Archie told me. King shot him in the neck as he shoved you over the fucking waterfall.”
I looked away. I remembered the feel of Skinner’s blood on my face and neck. I remembered the way I felt the peace wash over me as I flew through the air thinking my life was ending. I’d accepted it. Wanted it, even.
When King and Karlyn brought me back after fishing me out of the water, I was angry. I didn’t want to live. Not after what happened. I didn’t want to live with the memories. The constant reel running through my mind. I didn’t want to live a half-life, the way my mother had.
“Grace.”
I shook my head. “I can’t talk about it, Johnny. Not yet. Maybe not ever.”
“He loves you, Grace. It won’t matter to him.”
I turned my glare on my best friend. “It matters to me.”
“Why?”
I clenched my teeth together tightly and tried to pull my hand away from his. He held me tight and wouldn’t let go. “Why, Grace? Why does it matter to you?”
“Are you fucking serious, Johnny? You don’t know what they did! You don’t know how they broke me! You don’t know what I have to live with now. The memories, the nightmares.” I closed my eyes tight. “I can’t get away from the feeling. The smell. I’ll never be the same person I was.”
“No, you won’t. That can be said of any experience, good or bad. Everything we go through in life makes us who we are, Grace. If I hadn’t lost my sister, I wouldn’t be here.”
“You wouldn’t be here if I’d stayed my ass home.”
“I meant here in Diamond Creek. Who’s to say I wouldn’t still be here if I’d gone to protect any of the women? Or even if I’d gone with King somewhere. Hell, I could be hit by a fucking car speeding down the road. Shit happens, Grace. We can’t control life. All we can do is accept it and adjust to it. Not let it kill us.”
“You don’t understand, Johnny; you couldn’t.” I took a deep breath. I understood what he was doing. But he’d never know what it was like. Being at the mercy of more than a dozen men. It was more than just not being able to control the shit life threw at you. I was raped. More than once, by more than one man. I didn’t just have my control taken away. They took my soul. It was ripped away from me.
“You’re not broken, Grace. You’re scratched. Scratches heal with time.”
