Page 31 of Trick

“He’s fine. The doc checked him over before we brought him home,” Brewer says as they lower Trick onto the bed. “He’s only so out of it because of the pills. The doc hooked him up with the good stuff.”

I fold my arms, mostly to stop my heart from bursting out of my chest. “Oh, your backroom doctor checked him over and gave him fuck knows what for his pain? Does your club doctor carry a scanner in his back pocket to see if he’s bleeding inside? And how did he get hold of this medication?” I’m aware of how acidic my tone is, but I don’t care. I’m so angry, I can barely hear through the buzzing in my ears.

“Stay the fuck out of this, Heidi.”

I don’t take Hawk’s warning, too riled to care about insulting him or the club. “All your stupid rules and bullshit, is it worth it? Look what you did to your friend.”

I want to understand why Trick would ask for this. Pain, hurt… it changes the mind in a way that can’t be explained to someone who hasn’t been through it, but this kind of self-inflicted punishment is madness.

Trick and I are two sides of the same coin. The only difference between us is he gave into his demons while I drowned in mine. I’m not sure which path is better.

He peers at me through his slitted lids as he sinks into the pillows.

“This is wrong,” I mutter.

“It’s club business. Stay out of it,” Hawk warns.

I spin to face him, his words gasoline to my burning anger. “It’s always fucking club business, but the ‘club business’ affects the rest of us, Hawk. You guys don’t exist in a bubble, and it’s always the women who fucking suffer.”

Hawk grabs my arm, pulling me away from the bed. His grip isn’t hard, but it’s firm enough that I have no choice but to follow as he drags me out onto the landing. As soon as we’re outside the room, I tear away from him, scowling even as I swallow down the shriek of panic that wants to tear out of my throat.

I can hear Trick losing his shit, or trying to, and Brew attempting to calm him down.

“I’m fine,” I yell at Trick. “Hawk’s not going to hurt me, and if he tries, I’ll knee him in the fucking nuts.”

Hawk scrubs a hand over his jaw, and I recognise the look in his eyes. His patience is hanging by a thread.

“Don’t put yourself in the middle of things that don’t concern you.”

I glare at him. Is this ass for real?

“Then don’t turn up in the middle of the night with him bleeding and beaten.”

His long hair curtains his face as he leans into me. The urge to step back is so strong, I have to root my feet to the floor. Despite my assurance to Trick that Hawk won’t hurt me, I’m not all that certain anymore.

“I know you don’t have a lot of time for this club—you’ve made your feelings very fucking clear on that—but don’t cross the line, Heidi. This shit ain’t for you to judge.”

I try to calm myself before I say something I can’t take back. “You’re wrong. This club was everything to me, Hawk. I was as much a part of this life as you. It was my entire world, the family I always wanted. It was the club that fucked all of that, not me.”

Pain as fresh as it was back then hits me in the chest. How fucking dare he stand there and preach at me about not judging?

Hawk softens his gaze a little. “We’ve all lost people we love, Heidi. I get you’re pissed about Crow, but this anger ain’t gonna fix shit.”

I want to scream at him that Theo isn’t the reason I’m angry, but I bite my tongue. “My anger at the club is all I fucking have left.”

He stares at me for a beat. “Then why stay? If you hate the Sons so much, why put yourself through it?”

“I don’t stay for the club. I stay for Sophia, so I can protect her.”

And now, I stay for Trick.

Hawk blows out a frustrated breath. “Ain’t nothin’ gonna happen to that baby. The club’ll make sure of it.”

“I sure hope so, because there won’t be a place you can hide if a single hair is harmed on her head.”

His jaw tight, he reaches into his back pocket, and I flinch, expecting a weapon to materialise. Instead, he hands me a bottle of pills. There’s no label on it.

“What are these?” I demand, twisting the bottle in my hand.

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