The ol’ ladies make their way over to me. “How are you doing?” Ivy asks, her frown deep with concern. She doesn’t need to say anything else; the look on her face says it all.
“When the ambulance door opened, I never imagined it would be her,” I admit. “I was shocked.”
“I wonder why it happened. Did Twitch tell you?” Sophie asks, her curiosity as sharp as ever.
“I’m not too sure.” I hate lying, but I don’t have much of a choice right now.
“I heard her yelling at someone,” Elena says, her voice thoughtful.
I suck in a breath, my chest tightening.
“But I didn’t hear what it was about or who she was yelling at.”
Relief washes over me.
“She was yelling at Twitch,” Ava says. “When I put Hope down, I heard him yelling for help. When I went into his room, he was holding Mercedez, who was crying hysterically.”
“He must have been with someone else,” Sophie says with conviction. “There’s no other explanation for her going crazy like that. How long have they been close?”
“Since before I came here,” Elena answers. “I was the first ol’ lady, so... over five years.”
Twitch and I didn’t think through the consequences. We were so blinded by lust and the pull to be together that we ignored everything else. And now Mercedez is in the hospital because of it. I lose control when I’m with him. My entire world becomes about him. I was so foolish to think we could escape the restraints of our friendship. Instead, we’ve only created more drama.
“Do you think she’ll come back here after her stay at the hospital?” Ava asks.
“I don’t think she has family. I’ve never known her to even talk about her family,” Elena says. “So I don’t know where else she’d go.”
“Twitch probably wouldn’t let her go anywhere else,” Sophie says, shaking her head. “The look of horror on his face... He probably wants to keep a close eye on her. And I’m sure the club wants to know she’s safe too. They take care of the sweet butts. If he was with someone else, that’s clearly over now. She’s made sure of that.”
My heart breaks at her comment.
Viper makes his way over to me. “Do you have a moment? I burned my leg on the exhaust of my motorcycle today. Can you take a look?”
Sophie snorts. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have been doing burnouts with Axle,” she says with a pout.
I crouch down and lift his jean leg. The burn is red, mottled, and wet looking. It must be painful. “It’s a second-degree burn. Did you put any cold water on it when it happened?”
He nods. “Yeah, but it’s still tender.”
“Yes, it will be for a while. Let me grab the first aid kit out of the kitchen. I’ll be back.” I head to the kitchen, grab the kit, and return with sterile nonstick dressing, antibiotic ointment, and gloves. Kneeling beside him, I apply the cream and dressing. “Don’t break any blisters that form. Change this dressing twice a day. If you notice any signs of infection, you’ll need to see a doctor for antibiotics.”
“Thanks, doc,” he says with a cheerful grin.
“That’s okay. It’s been a big day. I think I’ll hit the shower and go to bed.” I say good night to everyone and drag myself upstairs to my room. My feet feel heavy, and so does my heart. I can’t believe everything that’s happened today.
The shower washes away the tears for what Twitch and I could have been. With Mercedez living in the clubhouse, we’ll never have the chance to even spend time together again. Just being with him is fun, and I value the friendship we’ve made.
I feel like I’ve never had it easy; I’ve had to fight my way through everything. Like not having a family with our real mom and dad. Then, despite my struggles at school and even though I am relatively smart, I had to work my ass if to get through my exams because I still had to work hard to get where I am. Now, God forbid I like someone, but because of who he is and with everything that’s happened, there’s sure to be no future in it.
During the days that follow, Twitch barely speaks to me apart from asking about Mercedez. There’s nothing to report back on; she’s with the psychiatrists and their team. He’s been at the bar drinking a lot, even while I’ve been at work during the day. I get it, I do. The guilt is eating him alive, but there’s no convincing him it wasn’t his fault. Every time I see him at the bar, my stomach twists. I hate the thought of him spiraling into depression again because of Mercedez.
The doctor called Twitch earlier today, and he informed everyone that he’s picking her up this evening. She’s been cleared to come home to the clubhouse. As soon as I hear the news, I go upstairs and start packing my bag. I can’t stay here. Not with her coming back.
There’s a knock on the door, and when I turn, Twitch is standing in the doorway. His face is a mix of exhaustion and sadness.
I give him a small, sad smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t be here when she gets back.”
He takes a step toward me but stops, his hands clenching at his sides. “But I don’t want you to go.”
