One week later
“Ilove you, Pen,” Clancy says, gripping my hand tightly in hers. Her red hair is splayed across the crisp, white cotton of her pillow, reminding me of all that blood splattered across the walls and floors in Tales…
So much blood.
I push the thought away. I can’t think about that. Not now. Clancy might be laid up in hospital, but she’s alive. She’s alive and for that I’m so, so grateful.
“I love you too. I’m so sorry about it all,” I reply, my throat tight, thick with unshed tears. I’ve cried so much over the past few days. I’m surprised that I have any tears left honestly.
“It’s not your fault. None of it is. David was evil.”
“He murdered Tiffany, my mum. So many are dead… He shot Dax…” I gulp, not able to say the words. “I should’ve protected them. I should’ve protected you.”
“We’ve been through this Pen. You can’t save the world from the evil within it. His actions don’t reflect on you. You hear me?”
I nod my head, forcing myself not to cry. “Sophie has been charged with the premeditated murder of Tiffany. I found out earlier.”
Clancy sighs. “I can’t believe she was involved with your brother. That she would do such a thing.”
“Me either. We all knew she was a mean girl, but a murderer? Not that. Never that.”
“It’s difficult to wrap your head around it,” Clancy mutters.
“It really is… How’s your step-mum? Your dad?”
“Devastated. Heartbroken. Tiffany might not have been my friend. She was cruel and heartless, but I had hoped that one day, maybe we could’ve been…” Clancy sighs, then gives me a tremulous smile.
“I’m so sorry. If there’s anything I can do… Anything.”
“You did everything you could, Pen. You fought him and you won.” Shifting her position, she winces as her hand presses against her side, reminding us that she has several broken ribs.
“He hurt you,” I counter, my fingers gently brushing over the yellowing bruises on her arm. There are so many more hidden beneath her hospital gown. He beat her, like he used to beat me because she fought back.
“And now he’s gone. He can’t hurt anyone anymore,” she says, firmly. “It’s over. I don’t blame you. My family doesn’t blame you. I swear it.”
My head drops as I place my forehead against her hand. She reaches for me, her fingers stroking my hair. “It’s going to be okay, Pen,” she murmurs, and I hear the tears in her voice too.
“How can it be? How can it ever be okay again?” I ask, lifting my head and blinking back the tears.
“It will be. You have to believe that. There’s one less monster in the world.”
“Too many people have died. Too many people have been hurt because of him.”
“And you heard what Hudson said yesterday, many, many more women are safe now because of you all. Your brother is dead, and the women he was trafficking are free.”
“Are you still having nightmares?” I whisper, knowing that she’s not the only one who will suffer from bad dreams because of my brother. He might be dead, but his evil somehow lives on. And the worst thing, he was just the tip of the iceberg. Every layer that Interpol has uncovered since his death is as shocking as the one before it. So many sick men and women who’ve used their privilege and money to buy what they want, to fulfil their fantasies. Hudson may not have got the personal vengeance he sought, but he has helped to take down one of the biggest sex trafficking rings in recent history.
She bites her lip, nodding. “I won’t lie to you. Those were the worst twelve hours of my life, but I’m alive and right now that’s what counts. He can’t hurt me in a dream, Pen. I’ll be okay.”
Swallowing hard, I nod. Across the room, the door opens, and River and Lola enter. The smile on Clancy’s face and love in her eyes are enough to warm my heart.
“Ah, here they are,” she grins.
“Hey babe, how’re you feeling?” Lola asks.
“Good. Much better,” Clancy replies, accepting a kiss and a gentle hug from her girlfriend. I feel a warm hand on my shoulder and look up to find River staring down at me.
“Hey, Pen,” he says.
“Hey, River.”
Squeezing my shoulder gently, he nudges Lola aside and leans over Clancy, planting a tender kiss on her lips. “Time to go home,” he says.
“I can be discharged today?”
“That’s right, babe,” Lola says with a wide grin. “The doctor has given you the all clear. Let’s take you home. River and I are going to take care of you at my place.”
“I’m not sure Dad will agree with that.”
“He already has.”
“He has?” she asks in surprise.
“Your dad loves us. We’re both pretty persuasive…” Lola says, flinging her arm around River’s shoulder and pressing a kiss against his cheek.
“And bloody charming.”
They laugh and whilst I can smile at their happiness, my own heart’s too heavy to join in with the laughter.
“Go on, make yourself useful and pack up my stuff,” Clancy orders, pulling back the cover and swinging her legs over the side of the bed.
River salutes her. “On it, boss,” he says, and the pair start gathering her things.
“Help me with this?” Clancy asks motioning to her top. “I want to change out of my pyjamas.”
“Sure,” I reply, and just as she removes her top, there’s a knock at the door. Whoever’s on the other side doesn’t bother to wait for an answer and barges right in. Lucky Clancy’s wearing a bra.
“York, did no one ever tell you it’s rude to barge into a room like that?” River says, folding his arms across his chest.
York pulls a face. “Sorry, mate. I’ll look the other way whilst your missus gets dressed.” Only he doesn’t look away, he stares right at Clancy and grins. “You’re looking better.”
It’s the first smile I’ve seen in over a week. My heart lifts, a bubble of hope expanding in my chest. Something good must’ve happened.
“Is that finally an offer, York? You know River, Lola and I are willing to combine harems…” she jokes, winking at me.
“We are?” Lola and River say simultaneously.
“Yours isn’t strictly a harem, more of a menage… Besides, I’m more than happy with Pen and my guys.”
“Fair enough. How’s he doing?” Clancy asks.
“Awake. Dax is awake.”
I stand abruptly, the chair scraping over the floor. “He’s awake, awake?”
“Yep, for about an hour now.” York’s smile widens. It’s a beautiful, glorious, sunshine-through-clouds kind of smile that makes happiness burst inside my chest. “He’s grumpy as fuck, but can at least string a sentence together that isn’t drug-induced nonsense.”
“And you’re only telling me this now! Why didn’t you come get me sooner?” I screech.
“He demanded to know what happened and then wanted to make himself presentable for you.”
“How did he take the news?” I ask, referring to the fact he’s now an amputee. The doctors here were incredible, managing to save his elbow joint so that sometime in the future after he’s healed and has had some rehabilitation, he’ll be able to wear a prosthetic arm if he wishes.
“Like a fucking champ. We’ve just finished helping him shower, shit, and shave. I swear, the things we do for the people we love, eh?”
“You know he can’t shower. He’ll get his dressings wet!”
“By shower, I meant a bed bath,” York says, wrinkling his nose. “At least he doesn’t smell like a pile of dirty laundry now.”
“Oh my God!” I laugh, just imagining the three of them giving him a bed bath. I turn to Clancy and she grins, shooing me out of the room.
“Go! I’ll see you later.”
Kissing Clancy, then River and Lola on the cheek, I sprint down the hallway to Dax’s private room in The Wellington Hospital located in St John’s Wood, in record time. My heart fit to burst with every step. This past week has been hell. I’ve lived at this hospital refusing to leave Dax’s side. When he’s been asleep, which has practically been the whole time, I’ve kept Clancy company. They’ve had the best possible care money can buy, all paid for by the Freed brothers. I’m convinced it’s been the specialised, very expensive treatment Dax has received this past week that has kept him alive after such a traumatic, life-threatening injury. Now, after a week of him being in and out of consciousness due to the heavy pain medication and fourteen hour operation he’s had to endure, he’s finally awake enough to have a proper conversation.
I burst into his room, the door slamming open in my haste. “Dax!” I yell, running over to his bed and throwing myself against his chest, forgetting myself. He groans and I instantly pull back.
“You might want to take it easy on the poor fuck,” Zayn says, laughter in his voice. “He’s still feeling delicate.”
“I am not feeling fucking delicate,” he counters, laughter rumbling up his chest as he cups my face with his good hand. “Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”
“I’ve been here every day. You don’t remember?”
“The guys said I’ve been pretty out of it the past week. I don’t remember much of it.” His gaze falls to his stump, and he shakes his head. “Look at the state of that.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Like a bitch. I’m looking at my non-existent hand right now and I swear I can feel my fingernails digging into my palm. It’s fucking weird.”
“That’s the phantom pain. The doctor said that can go on for quite some time,” I explain, leaning into his hold. “I’ll help you through it. We all will.”
“Fucking hell, don’t tell him that, he’ll be milking this for all it’s worth,” York comments, rolling his eyes.
“You’re damn right I will. It’s not every day you get your hand blown off,” Dax retorts, grinning. Reaching up, I gently stroke over the bandage wrapped around his head, that covers what’s left of his ear. My eyes well with tears that are both happy that he’s alive and sad that he’s lost so much.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, cupping his cheek gently.
“Better now that you’re here,” he mutters, drawing me in for a kiss. It’s gentle and soft and filled with so much love. It’s just as well I’m sitting down because my knees go weak.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up,” I say, pressing another kiss against his lips, unable to help myself.
“It’s just as well that you weren’t, Titch. Big boy here got a bit of a shock when he woke up. Not being able to grab hold of his boner with his wanking hand can do that to you,” York says, laughter in his voice.
A beat passes, my eyes widening at York’s crass joke. Dax blinks, then he grins, and that grin turns into a full blown smile that releases a deep, joyous laugh. We all join in and the sound is music to my ears
“You fucker,” Dax says, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m never gonna ear the end of this, am I?”
“You didn’t just…” Another laugh bursts out of my mouth as I shake my head. “That was terrible, Dax!”
Zayn smirks. “Pen, you haven’t heard the worst of them. York’s been thinking up all sorts of one-armed, one-ear’d jokes. Are you ready to endure the next sixty years of York winding up Dax?”
I flick my gaze to Zayn, grinning. I’m willing to spend every single minute of the next sixty years doing just that. “That bad, huh?”
“They really are terrible,” Xeno agrees, stepping up behind York and grasping his shoulders. He looks as exhausted as the rest of us. Dark circles under his eyes and his chin and cheeks are covered in a week-old stubble. I itch to touch it, him. All of them. I just want to hold them for the rest of my life and never, ever let them go.
“You know, I warned York to take it easy on Dax,” Xeno says. “But he wouldn’t have it. So I had to remind York that Dax could still beat his arse, single-handedly.”
“What the fuck was that?” York exclaims, screwing up his face as we all chuckle at Xeno’s poor attempt at a joke.
“Alright, alright,” Xeno says, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m fucking tired. You’ll have to allow it.”
“You’re losing your touch, mate. I, on the other hand, am not afraid of Dax here,” York continues, not to be deterred. “We all know he’s ‘armless.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake. It had to be me that lost a motherfucking limb. It couldn’t be one of you arsehats, could it?” Dax groans, shifting position. He winces and my gaze is drawn back to the bandaged stump, and the tube that’s draining off excess fluids, sticking out of it.
“Do you need more pain medication?” I ask, worry creasing my brow.
“No, I’m good. I’ve been hopped up on morphine and fuck knows what else for too long. It feels good to have a clear head.”
I chew on my lip, my gaze roving over his stump and up his arms to his broad chest. Instinctively, my fingers press against his dark angel tattoo and I sigh. I’m so, so happy he’s alive. That’s the most important thing, but I can’t help feeling how cruel this injury is. He’ll never be able to dance like he did before. There are just some moves he won’t be able to perform, and that kills me. Arden was right, Dax did pay a high price.
Dax covers my hand with his and draws my fingers to his lips. “Don’t do that, Kid. Don’t pity me. It’s not good for my ego.”
“I don’t pity you, Dax. I love you. I’m sad for what you’ve lost.”
“I’ve lost nothing. Just an arm. I’ve got another one,” he says nonchalantly, but I know this has affected him. He’s just putting on a brave face for me.
“But…”
“No buts. I’m going to heal, and we’ll dance again. Whatever it takes. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Okay,” I agree. “Whatever it takes.”
York coughs, breaking up our serious moment with a roll of his eyes. “I’m not being funny, Dax, but it could’ve been worse…” York’s gaze drops to Dax’s crotch. “Would’ve been a crying shame if your monsterdick was blown off. Thank fuck David was such a crap shot.”
I choke down a laugh, my hand covering my mouth.
Dax snorts. “You lot are on fire today.”
“Yeah and now that the playing field has levelled, we can all get a crack at the whip when it comes to Tiny’s attention. You’re about as handsome as we are now,” Xeno adds.
“Ha! Whatever, mate. I might’ve had my wings clipped, but I’m still Kid’s dark angel and don’t you ever fucking forget it.” Dax grins as he rests his hands on my thigh and squeezes. When I catch his gaze I see the love and lust firing within them.
“Woah! Steady, big boy. You might want to bench that thought. You’ve got a lot of recovery time ahead of you,” York says, serious for a moment. “Don’t get carried away. You need every drop of blood in your whole body, not just your gigantic cock.”
“I’m beginning to think you’re obsessed with my dick.”
York shrugs. “No more than my own.”
“York’s right, you need to concentrate on getting better. We’ll be happy to take up the slack. Won’t we, boys?” Xeno adds, with a shrug and a wink.
“Oh, my God. Stop it! Leave the poor man alone.” I admonish.
“Yeah, you heard Kid. Leave me alone. In fact, why don’t you all fuck off for a moment so I can remind our girl just how much better I really am.”
“Not a chance in Hell. None of that for you, my friend,” Beast winks as he steps into the room, Grim and Hudson following behind. “You might’ve defied the odds and survived the worst fucking injury in history, but Pen here is a badass bitch and she’ll fucking kill you if you so much as pass out before you give her the big O!”
Grim slaps his chest. “Sorry about Beast. You would think he was shot in the head and not in the shoulder with the amount of shit he’s been coming up with lately.”
“Lately? Are you kidding? Beast has been spewing crap ever since he lost his head over you,” Hudson counters with a laugh.
“Yeah, and you’ve been a pain in my arse the whole fucking time. Anyway, haven’t you got a family to go home to?”
“I do,” Hudson agrees. “In fact, I came here to let Pen know that Gray will be dropping Lena back home in a few hours. The plane lands at four o’clock.”
“Thank you Hudson. For everything,” I say, grateful that his family looked after Lena for me this past week or so whilst we dealt with David and looked after Dax.
“No. Thank you, Pen. I’m indebted to all of you, and I’m also fully aware of the monumental fuck up on my part.”
“Don’t be. You didn’t know that David took out Santiago and used José as a doppelganger. He fooled the police too,” Dax says.
“I should’ve dug deeper. Looked closer. That’s on me. I dragged you into something that was all smoke and mirrors. I’m sorry.”
“Well, fuck. The great Hudson Freed apologising… As I live and breathe,” Beast remarks, chuckling.
“It happens on occasion, but don’t get used to it.”
“Look, man,” Zayn says, swiping a hand through his hair. “We can all go around in circles about who’s to blame, but we got what we wanted out of this. David is dead, and our girl never has to be afraid of that piece of shit hurting her again.”
“Regardless, I will forever be in your debt. If there’s anything any of you need, any time. You know where I am.”
“Don’t tell the Deana-dhe that,” York jokes, and this time none of us laugh, no matter how ironic the joke might be. We all remember the deal Grim made and not one of us is happy about it. “Sorry, verbal diarrhea.”
Grim waves her hand in the air, batting away everyone’s concern. “Like I said before, I know how to handle the Deana-dhe.”
“Well, that makes one of us then,” Beast mutters, scowling.
Grim flashes him a look, not wanting to have another row. This past week I’ve witnessed plenty, but despite their fiery relationship I see the enduring love they have for one another. Their love story has been full of ups and downs. I’m aware of some of the downs already, but I’m hoping someday soon Grim will have the chance to share their full fairytale with me, bloody hearts and all.
“Oh, before I forget, I have something for you,” Hudson interjects, returning his attention back to Dax.
“Yeah, what’s that?” he asks.
Hudson reaches into the pocket of his jacket, pulling something out. “Catch,” he says, before chucking a small, clear plastic container to him. Dax catches it with his good hand. There’s something small, metal and twisted inside.
“What the fuck’s this?” he asks, holding up the pot between his finger and thumb, peering into it.
“It’s the bullet that Doctor Morris dug out of your wound. He just gave it to me. I thought you might want it.” Hudson says.
“Actually that’s a slug not a bullet,” I point out, glancing over to Xeno who nods.
“Knowledgeable and beautiful, that’s my girl,” he says.
Dax shakes his head in wonder as he stares at the slug. “You wouldn’t think something so small could cause so much damage.”
“No shit,” Beast says. “You totally trumped me on the sympathy vote, that’s for sure.”
“You should have it made into a necklace or something, a reminder that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” York remarks, serious for once. He takes the container from Dax, unscrewing the lid and drops it into his palm. “Twisted bullet…”
“Slug,” Xeno corrects him.
“No, I mean, that’s a pretty fucking cool name for a club. Twisted Bullet,” York clarifies.
“Are you thinking of changing the name of one of your clubs?” I ask, frowning as I glance between York and the guys. They all look like they’ve been caught with their fingers in the cookie jar. I narrow my eyes at them. “What?”
“Nothing, my love. Just thinking out loud, that’s all.” York grins and curls his fingers around the slug, pocketing it.
“Yeah, let’s concentrate on the sick and wounded. How are you really feeling, mate?” Beast asks, and I can’t help but think that they’re all up to something. For now, I let it go.
“How am I?” Dax muses, rubbing a hand over his smoothly shaven chin. “That’s an easy question to answer.”
Hudson smiles. “It is?”
“It is.” Dax’s gaze flicks between each of us in turn. “I’m fucking grateful to have you all as friends. You three included,” he says to Grim, Beast and Hudson.
“Likewise, mate,” Beast replies for the three of them.
“I’m also fucking grateful to be alive. I know it was touch and go for a while…”
“Why do I sense a but coming?” I prompt.
He reaches for me, taking my hand in his. “But most of all I’m wondering how long it will take me to heal so that I can dance with our girl again.”
