Page 67 of Road to Absolution

He turned to walk away, but I bit, “Hey, I’m not one of your Prospects, so watch the ordering around thing with me, buddy.”

With a rather annoyed expression, he slowly faced me again. “Oh yeah? That how you want to play it? Then here ya go. I was waiting for you to wake up to tell you, but… it’s your boy.”

Maverick. I let go of the wall as air rushed from my lungs. “What is it?”

A little remorseful, he said, “He’s okay, but he had a rough night.”

As he started leaving the bathroom, Viola greeted him with an angry shove. “This new you is a shithead. Get out.”

Scared for what could be wrong with Maverick, I tripped getting out of the tub. V rushed to help me and yelled at Art when he tried, too. “Get out!”

Without another word, he left.

Helping me get steady on my feet, V explained about Maverick being attacked. “But he’s okay. Scorch saved the day, and Tuck is already on his way to them with breakfast.” She pointed to the tub. “Strip. We are scrubbing you down and putting you to bed.”

“I need my phone.”

“Want me to flush it down the toilet?”

“No.”

“Strip.”

After filling the tub for me, she stayed. She laid a hot cloth over my shoulders, then helped get me acquainted with a bathroom I had barely given a second glance. I shouldn’t have been, because my best friend freaking loved me, but was surprised when seeing my toiletries from home were there. My shampoo, razor… “I love you, Viola.”

Without accepting my praise, she helped wash my hair that I had abandoned while focusing on my husband. She even teased me to keep me in good spirits. “Your boobs are huge. I’m so jealous.”

Wrapping me in a towel, she asked, “Ready for Netflix marathons?”

“I guess that will be my life for the next month?”

Viola winced. “After my brother speaks to you.”

In the comfiest maternity PJs I owned, I crawled into bed. It was so weird. I had a brand-new mattress at home. Blue sheets. Now I was in a strange bed, white sheets, and I wasn’t permitted to leave.

Propped against pillows, I observed Diesel walk in, a solemn expression. I grabbed a water bottle, certain water would be neededto replenish future tears.

He grinned. “Already see it coming?”

“Is he truly okay?”

“Yes.” He sat on the edge of the bed, one knee bent in front of him so he could face me. “And no.” As soon as my mouth opened, he held up a hand. “His body is safe… His mind is possibly another matter.”

I looked away.

“Ah-huh. But that is something you already know.”

“He’s just a little moody right now, Diesel.” I didn’t want to discuss how easy it was to startle Maverick. I didn’t want to think about him jerking in bed, clearly terrorized in his sleep—nightmares he wasn’t even aware he was having. And I certainly didn’t want confirmation Maverick was suffering because that meant, to me, that I wasn’t a good wife.

“I love you, girl. That’s why I’m in here, sticking my nose where it don’t belong.”

“He’s fine.”

“No, baby. I’m not sure there is such a thing in the biker world.”

“He’s not a biker. He’s a—”

We sat in silence…