Page 75 of The Grief We Hold

I’m in her shower, looking after her when I should be with my brothers. And I know it’s going to take a bomb going off toget me out of this apartment tonight. Even if that means sleeping on that lumpy recliner in the main room.

I tip my head beneath the icy spray and allow it to clear my thoughts.

When I step out with the towel wrapped low on my waist, I see Raven has set up a mini medical station on the table. She’s dressed in emerald-green silky pajamas and a white T-shirt.

No bra.

Her nipples show through, and it’s a tease my cock immediately responds to. Wanna bite ‘em. Chase her a little before she lets me play with them.

“Sit,” she says softly. “Let me take care of you.”

“I like the way those words fall from your lips, Blue.”

She looks at me like she doesn’t quite believe me. And she has good reason. I was a dick the day I kicked her out of the clubhouse. But now isn’t the time to talk about it as Fen walks out of the bedroom to grab some paper and crayons.

“Can I draw a picture?” he asks, utterly unaffected by the fact I’m sitting in the chair in only a towel.

Raven smiles at him. “Of course. That’s all the paper we have left. I’ll have to get you some more when I get paid.”

He carefully separates out the three or four pages to take just one, then sits on the floor.

We should have gone to my home, where I’ve got plenty of paper and enough towels that I don’t give a shit if I get blood on them. But it feels like the last bastion I need to get through. Being here with another woman is fine.

Being there with another woman would be harder.

“Want me to rinse your clothes in the sink before we get started? I don’t have a washing machine here, but I do a decent sink scrub.”

I take her hand. “Smoke has gone to my place to get me some clothes. He’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”

“That’s a relief. I don’t think even my biggest hoodie would fit you.” She tips some antiseptic onto a cotton wool pad. “I’m sorry. This might sting.”

With the most tender strokes, she begins the process of cleaning my wounds further. Her fingers are gentle on my skin, in contrast to the raw fire I feel when the antiseptic seeps into my wounds.

Occasionally, as I tense or tighten, I feel her cool breath on my skin, and it brings me back from the pain. I realize when she does the one on my chest, she’s blowing on them to soothe the sting.

I reach up and stroke her wet hair behind her ear as she does, and a soft smile appears.

“The one on your shoulder is deep. Are you sure you don’t want to go to a hospital and get it properly stitched?”

I shake my head and pick up the package of Steri-Strips. “Just patch me up with these. I’ll be fine.”

The ones on my side, where I lay in the blown-out glass of the diner window, bleed most, but Raven just keeps patching me up.

“I’m going to wrap a bandage around your torso,” she says. “I don’t think regular dressings will stand you moving around or sleeping.”

“Whatever you think.” I’ve been known to tape ‘em on. Never have I wrapped a bandage around my body. But this isn’t about me.

It’s about the kind woman in front of me, grounding herself again. Doing what she obviously does best…caring for someone.

It’s natural to her. Bet she’s a fucking incredible mom because of it.

Bet it made her a pretty impressive wife.

Wife.

Shit.

There isn’t a ring on her finger, but I’m assuming she’s married to Fen’s dad.

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