Page 19 of Beautifully Shattered
The words leave my mouth, knowing they are selfish, yet I can’t make myself take them back.
For a long, drawn-out moment, Jols just stares at me.
Her silence is unforgiving.
I want to ask what she’s thinking, but also, I don’t, because what does it matter?
Nothing matters anymore.
“Turn the tables,” she finally says. “Put yourself inhisplace. Helplessly watching the person you love in pain, dying right before your eyes, making a declaration of love, and begging you to do something that even God himself couldn’t do.” Jols shakes her head, her glare burning as she watches me. “You fell, Abbey. That fall caused you to go into early labour. Your placenta was damaged or whatever the hell it was. You were in the middle ofnowhere. No doctors. No equipment. Just the earth, the trees,and a bunch of Marx medics trained to handle war wounds, not internal placental abruptions and babies born ten weeks early.”
Jols huffs, her chest rising with the anger of having to spell it out to me.
“Nothing could have saved Bobbi. Even if she’d been born in this hospital, there’s no guarantee she would have survived.” Reaching forward, Jols picks up my hand, wrapping both of hers around it. “Sometimes, bad things happen that are out of everyone’s control, and I’m so extremely sorry, Abbey. I’m so sorry you have to go through this. I can’t even imagine what you are feeling. But even so, one thing Idoknow is you’re going to need me. Your friends. Ringo. Leaning on us is the only way you get through this.”
I shake my head, easing my hand from hers and rising to my feet, the action forcing her to wheel her chair back to give me space.
“You’re wrong.” My voice is cold. Dead. “The only way I get through this is by killing the men who did this.”
Her face pales.
I don’t think it’s because she’s shocked, but more like she knows just how true my words are.
The door bursts open as JD hurries in, fear etched on his face.
“Fuck. We've gotta go!”
I snap to attention, watching as he takes out his phone and calls someone.
“What’s going on?” Jols asks, but his answer comes when whoever he calls picks up the phone.
“Satan’s Rebels are heading this way. Get out of the pissa!”
5
“Who are Satan’s Rebels?” I ask, catching the panic rolling off Jols and JD as they lock eyes.
“They’re a rival club,” JD barks, slipping his phone in his pocket and taking out his gun, checking it for something. “They’ve teamed up with Ian Allen and that cult church your olds are tangled up with.”
My eyes go wide.
A rival club?
Ian Allen is working with a different motorcycle club?
“They were the ones that hit the compound,” JD continues, “caused a distraction to pull Ringo away from you so Allen and his crew could move in and take you.”
The room tilts.
This really is all because of me. Without a doubt.
“Where’s Ringo?” Jols asks, her voice tight with panic.
“He’ll meet us out in the hall. He was taking a piss,” JD snaps, cracking the door open and peeking out. “Fuck. We have to go.Now.”
I rush to Jols’ wheelchair, watching JD hand her a gun without hesitation.
I’m about to ask if he has a gun for me, but he’s already swinging the door open and stepping out.
