Page 25 of Disturbed Lucidity

Frost turned to Slash and pointed his finger. “Get her wrist checked out, then send her home.”

“Come on, Ivy,” Slash muttered, wrapping his arm around me and escorting me toward the front door. I turned around to find myself looking at the Devil himself, who stood in the middle of a mess I created, glaring at me.

It took three X-rays and four hours in the emergency room for a doctor to tell me my wrist was broken.

I could have told the fucking quack that myself, but I kept my mouth shut for once. It was bad enough I’d probably just lost my job, but knowing I broke my promise to my best friend was the worst. The entire time at the hospital, Slash hadn’t said a word to me.

I knew he was mad.

I was mad too.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.”

“Then why aren’t you talking to me? Yell, scream, say something. Just don’t sit there and ignore me.”

“What do you want me to say, Ivy? Part of me is fucking proud as hell that you defended yourself. The other half is worried about what’s gonna happen when you show up at work tomorrow. Because the club will not let this go, especially Indigo. He will have questions.”

“I’ll just make something up. No biggie.”

Slash shook his head. “He’s like Frost. He will know you’re lying. Whatever you tell him, there better be some truth to it. Speaking of which, how in the hell did you do what you did?”

I shrugged. “I can’t remember. One minute I was serving the drinks, the next Luc was holding me. I didn’t even see him come in.”

“Prez showed up just as you lost your shit. You slit that fucker’s throat and cut his hand off before any of us could get to you. When his buddy reached for his gun, Agony snapped the fucker’s neck. It all happened within seconds. It was gnarly as hell, and you know I love a good horror flick.”

I smirked, then started laughing.

“What?”

“I finally get why they call you Slash.”

“Shut up, Ivy,” Slash groaned, and I laughed louder.

It was late by the time Slash dropped me off at my apartment. Though he wanted me to stay at the clubhouse, I told him I was fine where I was and that I would be okay. Dropping my backpack at the door, I didn’t bother to turn the lights on.

I didn’t need the light.

I was safer in the dark.

Walking into my bedroom, I kicked off my boots, stripping my T-shirt over my head. Unbuttoning my jeans, I shimmied out of them, walking toward my bathroom. Leaning over the tub, I hit the stopper before turning on the hot water. After testing the temperature, I walked over to the sink and stared at myself in the mirror.

Placing my hands on the counter, I tried not to wince at the sharp pain in my wrist while I hung my head, taking a deep breath, before slowly raising my head again. I still couldn’t believe I’d lost my shit like that.

Running my hand through my thick wavy hair, I stared at the reflection that looked back at me. My eyes scanned the body before me, I couldn’t help but stare at the healed scars that ran along my stomach.

Two distinct scars, running from rib to hip, in a crisscross pattern. Tracing my finger over the raised skin, I felt nothing of the past I’d survived.

I hadn’t in a long time.

Yet, the nightmare was still there, waiting for me to close my eyes.

Sighing, I turned away from my reflection and climbed into my tub.

Leaning back, I allowed the hot water to wash over me.

I closed my eyes, praying that tonight was the night I slept without fear.

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