“You’ll be sick if you have too much,” she explained as I protested.
I turned my attention back to Shooter. “So, no idea where he’s gone then?”
He shrugged. “Last we heard, he boarded a flight to Bali or some shit.”
“So he cut and run rather than fix me up?” I sighed. “I’m offended.”
We both laughed at that, and I watched Belle look confused as hell before turning away to busy herself with something in the corner.
Shooter, ever the thoughtful man, dragged a hand down his beard, turning the mood somber. “Thought you were gone for sure, brother,” he said. “Thought we’d lost you.”
“Take more than whatever that was to kill me off,” I replied.
The world had been blurry in my damaged eye since I’d woken up, but things got even worse, to the point I could barely see. I blinked repeatedly to try to clear it, but it wasn’t going anywhere and it had shifted to both eyes now.
“Why’s he doin’ that?” Shooter asked with worry, looking over at Belle.
My blurry gaze moved to her. Her expression was soft, as usual, but there was something else there too: a sadness I was growing to know so well.
“What’s she even doin’ here?” I asked, hating the way I’d spat those words out. Hadn’t meant them to sound so hateful, but they were out now and she looked away, embarrassed.
“Shesaved your life,” Shooter replied. “Now have some fucking respect.”
I let out a heavy breath, not used to being spoken to like that. Not happy about it either, but Shooter was my prez, and if she’d saved my life then I surmised he was right. “Guess I should thank you then.”
Her mouth pouted and she shook her head. “It’s fine. I didn’t exactly have a choice anyway.”
She turned away, moving out of my line of sight, and Shooter glared at me, giving a small shake of his head.
I was still blinking repeatedly, and when I lifted my arms to rub at my eyes I found that my arms felt too heavy, like someone had filled my bones with lead and chained them to the bed. I could feel tears sliding down the side of my face from the repeated blinking, and I hated that I was beginning to panic. Something wasn’t right. I couldn’t see properly and the edges of my vision were turning darker. My body was heavy and it felt like I was sinking beneath the ocean.
“Belle?” Shooter growled. “What the fuck is happening?”
She leaned over me, her sweet flower smell mixed with the leather from my leather jacket she was wearing making everything in my body come alive. If I would have been stronger I wouldn’t have been able to hold back from grabbing her and throwing her down on my bed before taking her body. She held a little light up to my eyes, flashing it quickly in one eye and then the next before pouting.
“Just needs drops,” she mumbled, retrieving a small bottle from her pocket and holding my eye open while she dripped it in. I was about to tell her to back the fuck off when the world started to clear and her face transformed from blurry to perfect in front of my hazy gaze. “Is that better? she asked, her warm breath washing over me, the panic in me subsiding.
I wanted to stay like that for longer—her leaning over me, our bodies close together and our scents entwined. If I would have had any strength I would have reached out and cupped her face in my hand and pulled her mouth to mine.
“Beast.” She said my name, a look of worry washing through her features. “Is that better? Can you see me?” She peered into my face, her head lowering so we were even closer. Every breath of hers I inhaled, I felt cleaner, purer. Like her air was just better than any air in the world. It filled my lungs and purified them. Tasted better too. Kinda like the sweetest pie. I wanted her. Wanted her so bad that it made the pain coming from every muscle in my body pale in comparison.
But she wasn’t mine.
I swallowed.
She’d chosen him.
I grunted a yes and she stood back up, moving away from me.
“We’ve been through hell and back, brother,” Shooter said to me, oblivious to my turmoil.
“It’s clearly been a walk in the park for me,” I bit out, shifting my gaze back to my prez.
“What, just lying there trying not to die?” he retorted darkly. “I haven’t slept in four days, brother. Haven’t screwed my wife in that time or even touched a drop of beer.”
“Awww, you been holding my hand while I slept, Prez?” I grinned. Or tried to. The muscles in my face seemed stiff and unused. In fact, my whole body felt like that. Everything ached and felt weak, like my muscles had been stripped away from my bones.
“You fuckin’ wish!” he chuckled before his expression turned serious again. “No more drugs. No more beer. No more doing nothing until you’re properly healed this time.”
