The medication is making his eyes heavy, pupils dilating as the painkillers take hold. I should let him rest, but something keeps me anchored to his side, unwilling to break this fragile moment of peace.
“What happens after?” I ask the question that's been haunting me since the rescue. “When we're both healed. When Terrance is...gone.”
Thor's gaze finds mine, surprisingly lucid despite the drugs. “Whatever you want to happen.”
“That's not an answer.”
“It's the only one I have right now.” His thumb traces the curve of my cheek, careful to avoid the fading bruise. “I won't pressure you, Charlotte. You've had enough people making decisions for you.”
“But what do you want?” I press, needing to hear it.
He’s silent for a long moment, his heartbeat steady beneath my palm. “I want you,” he finally says, the words simple but carrying everything unspoken. “In whatever way you’ll have me. For as long as you'll have me.”
“I don't know if I can be what you need.”
“You are everything I need, sweetheart. Don’t ever fucking question that.”
A sharp knock interrupts our moment, and I instinctively tense against Thor's side. The door swings open before either of us can respond, revealing a hulking figure that fills the entiredoorway—broad shoulders encased in worn leather, a Heaven's Rejects president patch prominent on his cut.
Behind him, three more men file in, their faces vaguely familiar from that night.
“Raze,” he says, nodding to him.
“You look like shit,” the leader says to Thor.
Thor's arm tightens around me protectively. “Still prettier than you, Prez.”
His presence fills the small hospital room, commanding attention without effort.
“You must be Charlotte,” he says, inclining his head in greeting. “Heard a lot about you. Glad to see you both made it out in one piece.”
“Thank you for coming for us.”
“It wasn’t us, darling. We were hours away when shit hit the fan.”
“Then who helped us?” Thor asks.
Raze nods to the three guys behind him.
“That would be us,” the new guy mentions. “Name’s Karma.” He points to the rest of his crew. “The big guy over there is Stone Face, the older big bastard is our club president Judge, and this guy,” he nods to the smaller of the group, “is Priest.”
“Did you call them in?” Thor asks Raze, who shakes his head.
“Come to find out that my wife, Lindsey, knows Voodoo’s wife. Who would have thought. Two different clubs with guys who married therapists. Small fucking world.”
“I’m not sure I’m following you,” Thor remarks. “Are you saying your wife and V’s wife coordinated all of this?”
“Sure did,” he smiles. “Our home base is in Texas, but lucky for you, we were in the area handling some club business of our own.”
“Though I am not happy you roped my fucking sister in tracking V, I am damn glad that you did. Had you not, shewouldn’t have reached out to Lindsey, who brought the entire Black Hoods cavalry to bail your asses out,” Raze adds. “We’ll be talking about that later, asshole.”
“Noted, Prez. I can’t believe we’re alive because of Presley.”
Karma's grin widens. “Never underestimate a pissed-off postpartum woman with connections. When Presley called Lindsey, asking if we could help because in her words ‘My husband would never let his phone die and my brother is an asshole who managers to send my husband into the thick of shit and never tell me’, no offense, Raze’, our old ladies put their heads together faster than we could blink.”
“None taken,” Raze grumbles. “She's not wrong.”
I find myself staring at these men—these strangers who risked their lives for people they'd never met. The gravity of their sacrifice washes over me.
