Page 64 of Falling for Her

My sole focus is on my girl, it has to be.

“It’s mainly cuts and bruises, only a few larger injuries that will heal within weeks,” Dr. Hammond says, but I don’t take my eyes off my girl, sedated in a hospital bed, my hand tightly clasping hers.

When we arrived an hour ago, she was inconsolable because she started cramping, and if she didn’t realize it before, she realized, at that moment that she wanted this baby. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter what anyone said to try and calm her down, the more she cramped, the more panic surrounded her and the doctors had to sedate her more for her own protection.

“All the tests have come back clear,” he says, “she has eighteen stitches on her inner thighs and five stitches to her brow. They are dissolvable, and as long as she takes it easy, they should heal in no time. Now her eye is bruised but thankfully not broken though she does have two cracked ribs, road rash on her stomach which will heal easily and a concussion. Again, she needs to take it easy, and thankfully the gash on the back of her head is only superficial, no stitches required,” he clears his throat, “Also there is some tearing to her vaginal walls so no sexual activities until she is fully healed and all the necessary tests have been completed to ensure no transmitted diseases have been passed on. She will have to repeat these in two weeks.”

I flinch as I squeeze Essy’s hand tighter and Adam asks carefully, “What about the baby?” Knowing I’m a ticking timebomb and needs to keep me under control.

Aiden is with Cody. He wants to be here, but right now, the one person Essy would like to be okay is her baby brother, so when I called, Adam agreed to my suggestion, much to Cody’s dismay, though he understood so right about now, he’s making brownies for his birthday and for his mom’s grave.

Dr. Hammond clears his throat and states, “She is nearly ten weeks, and there is a heartbeat. As long as she takes it easy for the next month or so, then I don’t see why she can’t have a normal pregnancy.”

Relief fills me, and I slowly close my eyes and place my girl's hand that I have not let go of to my lips.

I want this baby. It’s a part of her and a part of me, and despite us still trying to find our feet and enjoy each other, I want it despite it not being part of our plans right now. I know that after Essy’s reaction to seeing the blood and experiencing the cramps, she also wants it.

“Why would someone want to do this to her,” I whisper with pain after the doctor walks out, and Adam replies, “I don’t know, but you need to go and find out.”

I look up at him, and we lock our eyes because surely he did not just command me to leave my fucking girl after she’s been attacked?

He nods to the door and states, “The whole brotherhood is outside this room. It is time for you to go home, Damian,” I swallow, about to refute, but he commands, “It is time to put that cut back on your back where it belongs and become Jokester again,” his nostrils flare, “It is time you go and find out who this guy was and why he did this and then take revenge for my daughter, the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with.”

I lick my bottom lip and look at my unconscious girl. I go outside that door and put that cut back on it won’t come off again. This will be it. I don’t know if I’m ready for that, but I need to be prepared for Essy. She was targeted, and it’s time I became the person I was raised to be for her.

It’s time to become a brother again.

I stand and bend over my girl, gently kissing her head. I mumble, “I will be back soon, angel. I love you.” Then I look at Adam and nod before walking out of the room and down the hallway, ignoring the nurses eyeing me.

I can feel the energy becoming electric as I walk out of the exit before I see the brothers all parked in a line, Bullet is in the middle with his dad holding my cut.

I don’t think, I don’t even give myself a moment to try to change my mind. Instead, I walk over to him, grab my cut, and put it on like it's second nature all while I keep my face cold and angry.

The brothers rev their engines in celebration, and I climb my bike, not questioning how it got here. I rev it before spinning out of the parking lot and speed down the road, knowing exactly where I need to go.

Time to get some answers and then revenge.

I tilt my head at the man tied to a chair in the middle of the floor at the club’s torture chamber twenty minutes later from where I’m leaning against the wall.

Never fucking thought I'd be back in this room, yet here I am, all because this fucker decided to target my girl. Because of him, I’m back in my leather, ready to torture and kill.

“I don’t recognize him,” I say lowly to the brothers around me who are allowing me time to try to figure out if I knew him.

When I knocked him out, I didn’t recognize him, but I thought maybe I was just on adrenaline, but again, I don’t know him. I haven’t even seen him in passing.

“He’s been out of it since you hit him but what Stone managed to find out is that his name is Decan Handler, he’s twenty-five and lives in a hostel, no family or job and likes to drink,” Bullet says, and I nod, keeping my eyes on the figure.

A prospect I don’t know the name of walks over with a bucket of freezing water and throws it over the fucker that tried to rape my girl. He jumps awake coughing and spluttering, “Wha… what?” and tries to move his arm to wipe away the fluid from his eyes, and the moment I see panic hit him because he can’t, I fucking relish it.

He looks around the room, his eyes widening seeing men in leather, and he stutters, “What, uh, what-what–” His words trail off as Butcher steps forward and tilts his head, and as soon as the soon-to-be dead fucker sees his president patch his face pales and he lies, “I-I didn’t do nothing to the club….”

Butcher doesn’t address him, instead, he calls, “Jokester,” and I try to squash the feeling he’s giving me right now, a feeling of wanted and home, a feeling of belonging.

I haven’t had them since before I was sixteen.

Pushing off the wall, I take the knife off Acid as he holds it out to me and I walk over to the man who looks ready to piss himself, and when close, I don’t speak. Instead, I bring the knife down on his thigh hard, the blade pushing through his skin and muscles with ease and he screams, “What did I do?!”

I lean forward, ensuring my face is close to his as he pants and tears trail his cheeks and I sneer, “You tried to rape mypregnantgirl, succeeding in entering her after fracturing her ribs and causing stitches not only just on her brow but also on her thighs!”

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