Page 6 of Falling Hard

My eyes moved back to Grit as I came back to the moment.

Grit had longer hair, which he usually tied up in a small ponytail. One look at him and you’d think he was nothing but a biker, but Grit had been around when Dad was trying to get me help, so Grit had seen me at my worst and at my best. He came into the club when I was about ten, and my condition didn’t show its head until later on, though the signs were there.

Maiden, on the other hand, had only been around for three years, but he’d picked up on the signs I’d tried to hide. He just said to me one day, “Don’t hide who you are from me.” So he was another one of the brothers I could count on.

The brothers knew the signs of when I was relapsing big time, but I usually hid the small relapses like when I self-harmed well. I only did it because the demons got the best of me for the moment, but I still had self-control, only hurting myself and in a spot that wouldn’t be fatal.

The only reason Dad knew about this time was I wore that paled bloody dress. Since they hadn’t fully healed over, when the blood came through, it was a clear sign to Dad of what I had done.

“Emmie, tell us what happened. You haven’t self-harmed in ages.” Maiden tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

I bit my bottom lip. I would never say that last night’s events were a result of Dad. I would never blame him for the actions I took.

Maiden’s and Grit’s expressions hardened, then under his breath, Grit said, “Fucking bastard.”

“He can be a hard bastard,” Maiden spat, his anger getting the best of him. His words confirmed my thoughts that he knew what went on between Dad and me last night.

I looked him in the eyes mockingly. “You mean, I’m a lot of work.” I put a finger up, stopping him from interjecting. “I’m the one with schizophrenia. I’m the one who carries demons. I’m the one cursed by the Bible.” I shook my head as I remembered that was the first thing my grandmother told me when she found out about my schizophrenia.

“Since when did we give a fuck what the Bible said?” Maiden lowered to his knees in front of me, then cupped my face and locked eyes with me. “You, Emmie, are as sane as anyone. Sure, you got problems, but no one is fucking perfect, and you’ll get a man who accepts you with the flaws and quirks.” He winked, but the expression on his face told me he was trying to tell me something else.

Out the corner of my eye, I noticed Grit glaring at Maiden as if Maiden had just said something completely inappropriate. Did Grit think no guy would ever accept me for me? Then I glanced back at Maiden and saw something in his eyes I hadn’t seen before, something I couldn’t pinpoint. If I had to take a stab at it, I’d say he looked torn. Maiden was usually either fully dedicated to something or not into it at all, but the look he was giving me now told me he was questioning himself.

“Come on, Maiden, you know the drill. Emmie has to go into relapse prevention.”

I gritted my teeth. Didn’t they realize locking me up with my thoughts was the worst thing to do? How many times did I have to tell them? Not to mention the exercise that was going to come with it.

“Nah, that’s not happening.”

My eyes snapped to Maiden. What did he just say?

“I’m taking responsibility of her this time. I won’t leave her, and she won’t leave my sight.”

I pushed my glasses up and looked at him clearly. He would seriously give up time with women to be with me? Taking full responsibility for me was no light task. Fuck, it was a massive commitment. It meant he couldn’t get stoned, couldn’t party hard, and couldn’t leave me.

Maiden looked at Grit. “We talked about how this confinement isn’t good for her. I’ll take responsibility for her.” He looked back at me, and with hesitation and nervousness in his voice, he asked, “Is that all right?”

Did I feel comfortable with Maiden looking after me? I gave that question some thought, and then I realized he was one of the few people who accepted me for me.

“Yes.”

“Fine. It’s done. Tell Hammer that Emmie is with me for the week.”

My stomach twisted. I knew that meant twenty-four hours nonstop time with Maiden.

What the hell did I just agree to?

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