Whomever it was was hurt. Bad. But they weren’t…
The black hair shifted and a familiar half a face, covered in bruises, was revealed.
And my stomach dropped.
Straight out of my belly to my feet.
“Silver,” I breathed, my feet propelling me forward. “Fuck, baby.”
The black hair once again shifted as the woman turned my way, but she didn’t open her eyes.
She couldn’t.
Because they were swollen shut, and she wouldn’t be able to open them for a while.
“Sir,” I heard said. “Please, allow me to enter the room. We need to get her settled.”
“Who is it?” Silver’s raspy voice sounded. “I don’t want any visitors.”
“It’s me,” I said, thinking that would calm her a bit, but it only seemed to agitate her more.
My belly clenched when she said, “And that includes you, Piers.”
The way she spat “Piers” would forever be ingrained in my head.
I both liked it and hated it all at the same time.
Webber was my club name, and no one but my mom called me Piers.
I liked that she felt comfortable enough to use it, even if she was saying my name like a vulgar epithet.
“Sir,” I heard said.
I looked up to find a doctor that looked vaguely familiar heading my way.
I stepped to the side so the man pushing the gurney could get in, and several nurses and one other doctor, this one a female, pushed into the room behind them.
“Piers, wait.”
I instantly dropped the doctor’s gaze and headed to Silver’s side.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“I need you to make sure my apartment door is closed.” She turned away from the sound of my voice, giving me her back as best as she could despite being hooked up to all kinds of wires. “I don’t want my dad coming back to steal my shit after he punched me in the face and left me crying on the floor. Oh, and if you find Cadence Moran, tell her she owes me a new chair, and she’s paying all of my medical bills. Don’t bother calling the cops.”
I gritted my teeth to force down my automatic rejection of her words, but instead chose to go calm myself down by taking care of the tasks that she’d given me.
Sure, she hadn’t realized what exact tasks she’d given me, but I’d be taking care of them all the same.
I cataloged her injuries.
Her face was a mess of bruises, blood, and debris.
Her hair was a mess, and all over the place to the point where it had to be driving her crazy.
What little I could see of her arms and hands, I could tell that she’d put up one hell of a fight.
I was steeling my spine for when I would see the rest of her.
