Page 142 of Insidious Heart
His curly brown hair even more sun-kissed than mine, his dark blue eyes ringed in grey so full of life. Toby’s cheeks were pink, his skin tan and healthy, and he smiled at me with that toothy smile that used to light up the entire room the second he was in it.
My little brother fuckingsmiledat me while he told me he loved me, that he was proud of me, and couldn’t wait until we could play together again.
And I was ready.
I was so goddamn ready to go wherever Toby wanted me to go: heaven, hell or fucking Nebraska, it didn’t matter. I was ready, and he knew it.
Which is why he shook his head and smiled wider before saying, “Not yet, Victor. We’ll play together again soon, I promise, but you still have work to do, and your family is waiting.”
Do I know for sure that what I saw,whoI saw, wasn’t just a lucid dream, the result of shock and blood loss, or some hallucination that could be scientifically or medically explained away? No. I’m intelligent as fuck but the inner workings of our subconscious and the other unused ninety percent of our brains isn’t where my expertise lies. And no, that shit didn’t turn me into a believer all of the sudden, and it didn't give me some sort of magical or spiritual epiphany where I change my ways and set myself on the path of righteousness. But it did put things into perspective to a degree, regardless of what caused the telepathic visit from my deceased brother.
Unorthodox at best, seriously fucked up—and illegal—at worst, I still have work to do, assuming Toby was referring to giving into my urges in order to rid the world of its scum, one bag of dicks at a time, and Idohave family waiting for me.
It might have taken nearly thirty-two years and a lot of bullshit to get here, but for the first time in my life I have a family waiting for me to come back to them and that really got to me.
Especially when the paramedics zapped my ass back from wherever the hell I’d been and the first face I saw when my eyes snapped open was Stevie’s.
I wasn’t awake long, seconds really, but I saw my sweet little dove’s face, heard her beautiful voice, and I felt her small hand slip into mine and squeeze. And each time I nodded in and out of consciousness, each time I woke up and was able to focus my eyes long enough to look around, it was the same.
Stevie has been by my side ever since we left Linnie’s apartment and I don’t need anyone to confirm that she toughed it out even while I was knocked the hell out because I felt her. Her presence, her essence, her beautiful pure soul. Whatever it is that emanates from my baby dove in warm and soothing waves, I felt it even when I couldn’t see her, but I won’t bother analyzing that too much either because if the universe doesn’t have its mysteries, then where’s the fun in it?
Myself being one of its many mysteries.
A slow smile spreads across my face as Stevie wiggles around in her chair, the metal and vinyl recliner creaking with each movement. Her forehead pinches and her nose scrunches as her head slips off her fist, my baby dove probably uncomfortable as fuck sleeping in that sorry excuse for a chair, but I won’t wake her.
I’m sure the past few days have been hard enough while she processed everything that happened relatively on her own. I don’t doubt that Ember was here, that any of the women associated with the Kings stopped by and brought her clothes, necessities, anything Stevie needed while she endlessly sat watch over my recovering ass, and I’m sure they even stayed to chat. It wouldn’t shock me if some of them camped out with her for a few hours at a time, trying to keep her company and probably attempting to get her to open up about all the fucked up shit that’s been going on.
But I know my girl didn’t.
She isn’t used to that sort of treatment.
Friendships, confidants. A support system that is genuinely concerned with her wellbeing and would do anything for her without my little dove ever having to ask.
It’s one of the many things about Stevie I could relate to, an almostlone wolfmentality that makes you standoffish and wary. So, I can guarantee my baby dove wanted to open up to those women, wanted to spill her guts and let everything fly, but she didn’t because she’s still unsure if it’s ok to do that.
She will, though.
Stevie will eventually adapt and embrace everything the females of the WKMC will undoubtedly force on her—with the best intentions, of course—and she’ll flourish because of it. My girl has been made already and it’s only a matter of time before she’s running around on her own motorcycle flying Kings colors with the rest of them.
Me, on the other hand?
We’ll see.
I’m wired differently than Stevie, differently from most of the population regardless of the feelings and emotions that have started to bleed through my extremely charming exterior.
Basically, I’m an arrogant and annoying fucker who has no idea how topeopleand that makes it hard to have me around for extended periods of time.
Just ask John, he’ll tell you all about it.
“You need anything, Tor?”
I jump about thirty feet in the air as my head snaps toward the voice coming from the corner of the room, then I wince and tilt toward the left as pain lances through the entire right side of my body.
Pope raises a brow as he leans out of the shadows. “I scare you?”
“No,” I hiss, holding my side so my guts don’t fall out before darting a look at Stevie.Still fast asleep. “Keep it down.”
“She’s not gonna wake up.” He chuckles as he rests his elbows on his knees. “Your girl is exhausted. She made sure to stay awake all night and well into the day just so she could grill anyone who came in to check on you. Crashed after your last transfusion was done because she couldn’t keep herself awake any longer.”
