“Hey,” I say. Even the wordButcher, sticks in my throat.
My hand shakes, and so does Jackal’s as he raises it to run his hand through his thick dark hair again. Butcher and Greer work together like they’ve done this a thousand times.
“Can I call you Kai?” I ask.
Jackal turns his head to look at me. “Yes. Will you stay?”
I should ask for boundaries. Ask how long he wants me to stay for. Suggest terms. But it feels like this will be an easy way to return their kindness.
“I will. Is it bad?” I ask.
“He came off his bike at speed. He’s got rib contusions across two ribs, possible concussion, soft tissue trauma on his shoulder, hip, and thigh, and a sprained wrist.”
“And a partridge in a pear tree,” I say out of nowhere.
Kai huffs. “Funny girl.”
“What happened to your window?”
“I’ll explain later.” He grabs his helmet off the bike. “Carry this in, yeah?”
I hold it to my chest as Greer and Butcher tug Garrett out on a gurney. Then, I get my first look at him, and a tight band forms around my chest. If he sees me, he doesn’t say anything and now doesn’t feel like the time to bombard him with questions.
Instead, I follow them inside.
The warmth hits me, first. Then, the quiet and the absence of the smell of damp. Overall, it feels like a family home that needs some modernization. There’s a wide hallway with a staircase. To the right is an archway into a large living room with a smashed window. The glass glitters beneath the ceiling lights. To the left is an unfurnished room with empty wooden shelves. At the end of the hallway is the kitchen and a large island.
Butcher runs back out to the ambulance and brings a wheelchair that has a triangular tractor tread instead of wheels. “This isn’t gonna be fun,” Butcher says.
“Take a suck on this.” Greer offers Garrett a mask connected to two metal canisters. “The chair is designed to give you a reasonably smooth ride upstairs, but there’s no easy way to get you into it.”
“Fuck me,” he mutters, but takes a deep breath anyway.
And I look away, because the cry he makes when moved, and the utter anguish on Kai’s face as he and Butcher move him, shows what I’ve been considering is true.
Because I’ve seen love, even if I’ve never felt it. I saw it in the way Wraith fell hard for Raven, even when his mind was telling him he was disloyal to his first wife and their child. I saw it in the way Atom couldn’t stop the steamroller that was Ember, even when he thought it might get him killed. I saw it in the way Smoke got over his own fears to let Quinn creep into his life when everyone thought it was a bad idea. I saw it in the way Butcher stepped down from perhaps the biggest and most prestigious role in a motorcycle club for Greer.
And I see it now in the way Kai helps place Garrett’s hands across his lap, then strokes his cheek gently.
I’m sure Butcher and Greer can see it too, but no one mentions it.
Instead, they focus on Garrett, while I just stand there like a spare part, still holding Kai’s helmet. I put it down on the table in the living room and consider leaving. I know Kai asked me to stay, but my proximity to the biker world is increasing the longer I stay here.
The whir of the motor on the chair lift makes me jump, and I listen to the slow and steady thump of it as it hits the stairs. I hear Butcher and Greer trying to inform Garrett of every step.
I’m about to leave when Kai reaches for my hand. His long fingers squeeze mine firmly. “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”
I look up and meet his gaze. His eyes are red rimmed, like he’s been crying. But something passes between us, a feeling that shouldn’t be happening given what I just learned about the two of them. And yet, it’s not enough to make me let go.
“Wise words,” I say softly as they settle in my chest.
“Not mine. Eleanor Roosevelt. My sister had it pinned to her wall when we were teens. Come on.”
He guides me to walk ahead of him on the stairs, like he’s scared I’m going to try to escape. A part of me wants to.
But the other part of me…
Their bedroom is large with a huge bed. The sheets are thrown back as if a person got out on each side. There are two bedside tables. One has nothing but a lamp and a water glass on it. The other is swimming with motorbike magazines and cookie wrappers and other tchotchkes.
