Page 22 of Bloom: Part 2

No, I didn’t deserve their gratitude, but for Logan…for the club, I suffered through being paraded to the front. The governor handed me a cerulean-blue plaque bearing the golden seal of the state, inscribed with the words “courage,” “heroism,” and “valor.” Not that I knew what the last one meant, but it had to be positive and important. A few community leaders also offered gifts: gift cards to local stores and restaurants, free groceries forsix months, and a twenty-thousand-dollar check. Not knowing what to do with the money, I gave it to Logan.

“This is yours,” he said when he’d wheeled me back to our seats.

“You keep it. What am I supposed to do with that money?”

Logan shook his head and squeezed my hand. “I’ll hang on to it for you, but this is your money, and you get to spend it on anything you want.”

Other plaques were handed out to hospital staff who had shown bravery that day. I frowned, clutching the arms of my chair. Logan deserved to be recognized too. He’d been willing to sacrifice himself for the others. Had I not restrained him, he would have given his life for them. But he was snubbed. And I knew whose fault it was. Andrews. I’d heard Jamie mention that the man was trying everything in his power to get Logan permanently removed from his position at the hospital.

I imagined bludgeoning him to death with my plaque and watching him bleed out on local TV. But Logan would disapprove, and I would end up in prison and spend the rest of my life away from him.

Finally, the event ended, and I gave a sigh of relief. Gunner and Bay came over with their men in tow.

“Bloom, congrats, runt.” Bay softly punched me in the shoulder. “You’re the people’s hero.”

“Fuck off,” I shot back, certain he was making fun of me. We both knew I wasn’t a hero. If any of them fucked with Logan, they would see how quickly I turned.

Gunner chuckled. “It’s good to see being shot hasn’t mellowed you. Can’t have our best enforcer going soft on us.”

“You’re looking well, Bloom,” Ben said. He rested a hand on Gunner’s stomach. “I need to have a word with the new chief of police. Can you behave for once?”

Gunner didn’t seem to understand the concept because he smacked Ben’s ass as he walked away. Ben shook his head, but his lips were tilted. He liked the attention.

“I should take Bloom back to his room,” Logan said. Relief filled me. I’d had enough of the crowd, and the same reporter from earlier was inching toward me.

“If there’s anything you need, you can always let me know,” Gerald said, soft-spoken as always. It was still a mystery to me how Bay fell so hard for him. He was a mousy man who seemed bland. Although I had thought Logan was cold until the first time we slept together. Never would I have thought him capable of saying the filth he did when we fucked.

Logan pushed me toward the exit.

“Bloom, is it true that you made a statement that you wouldn’t have saved everyone if not for Dr. Collier?”

The reporter’s question was loud enough for a few people to look at us.

“Out of my way,” Logan snapped, wheeling me past the woman. Gunner and Bay stepped in front of the reporter, blocking her and giving us the chance to leave.

“You okay?” Logan asked.

“I’m fine,” I muttered, although the stress of the evening was beginning to claw at my nerves. “Just a little tired.”

Logan swore under his breath, walking faster. “I’m sorry I told you to accept the award. No more public appearances after this, I promise. Not even ones orchestrated by Andrews as a publicity stunt for the hospital.”

We made it back to my room, the quiet a relief after the bustle. Logan picked me up and carried me over to the bed, where he gently removed my shoes and clothes and helped me back into the hospital gown, which had become my daily attire. His touch was warm, tender, and he dropped kisses on my faceabsentmindedly that made me all soft and smiley when he pulled the sheet up to my waist.

I scowled.

“What’s with the angry face?” Logan sat next to me.

“I’m becoming too soft.”

He brushed a lock of hair from my face. The black hair dye was fading, exposing the blond underneath. “Is that a bad thing?”

“There’s no such thing as a soft biker. I didn’t survive by being soft.”

“Well, you have me now. You don’t have to fight to survive anymore, Bloom. You can let go.”

“And hold on to what?”

“Me.”

---