Page 101 of When It Reins
Every choice I made since I got home has revolved around this woman.
I don’t think I let myself think that way until this moment.
When I got home, I was in a bad place. Life was rocky, my relationships with my brothers were unstable, I was part of a motorcycle club I wanted no part in, and there was a woman who actually looked at me like I wasn’t a frightened creature that needed coddling.
Juniper looked at me like I was the hero of her story, not the side character, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I was on the way to something with purpose.
So I got the job at the bar, and it was only to be close to her. To watch her, to keep her safe, to make sure that nothing could get to her.
My eyes close. A tear manages to sneak out, and I rub it away. I feel someone sit down beside me and glance over, recognizing the shoes.
“Everything’s gonna be all right, Hero.” Mick’s voice is rough, and when I finally open my eyes and look, I can see that he’s being sincere.
I nod my head and glance around at the scene in front of me. Not only are Juniper’s sisters, my brothers, and our extended family here, but there are a plethora of members from my club, all mingling with my family.
This is a sight I never thought I would see, when cowboys and bikers mixed together to support someone they both cared about.
It is a strange feeling, but I have to admit, it is nice to see.
“Juniper Weaver,” a voice calls from where the ER entrance is, and I stand quickly, marching over there with the rest of the group. The doctor eyes us warily. “You’re all family?”
A murmuring of yeses goes through the group, and she sighs, smiling slightly. “Well, Juniper suffered a severe concussion. She was knocked around good with that crash and was not wearing her seat belt. She has scratches and lacerations on her hands and arms from the seat belt she was holding, and I’m guessing from her companion grabbing her.”
I clench my fists at the image that runs through my head, of her fighting for her life and this asshole hurting her until his last breath. I’ve never been particularly happy that someone has died, but I can’t help but feel relief at the thought that he can never hurt her again.
“She broke her wrist, so we set that, and it should heal all right, and we reset her shoulder that got dislocated.”
The doctor sighs and shakes her head, her face full of empathy. “All in all, it’s a miracle she’s not more injured.”
“So she’s going to be okay? What about her temp?” Thea asks, worry creasing her brow.
“Her temp is back to normal, and her heart rate is steady.” The doctor smiles at us. “She’ll need to be admitted for a few days to keep an eye on the heart and her concussion, but she should make a full recovery.”
I let out a breath, my eyes filling as relief overwhelms me.
She’s okay. She’s fine. She’s gonna be okay.
“Would one of you like to go sit with her?” the doctor asks kindly, and Thea grabs my hand, giving it a squeeze.
I look at her, startled by her nod, and give her a grateful look, following the doctor back until I’m led to a curtained-off portion of the ER.
“We’re just waiting for a room to empty upstairs, then we’ll take her up. But for now, you can sit here with her, and if you need anything, just let us know at the desk outside.”
I nod my head, not looking away from the angel that is resting on the bed.
Her face is covered in bruises, and there is a cut on her lip. Her wrist is cast, and her whole arm is in a sling.
But the important part to me is that her chest is moving. She is alive.
I sit in the seat beside her bed, taking her non-injured hand in mine. I rest my forehead against it, breathing deeply at the feeling of holding her again, at the knowledge that we are okay, that despite living a nightmare today, we were going to be able to come out of this again.
Movement from her hand startles me, and I look up, seeing her crack open her eyes and look at me.
“Starling.” I whisper the nickname, a tear tracing down my cheek, and I kiss her hand.
“Hero,” she says back, her voice hoarse. “I hear you got me out of a burning car.” She smiles sweetly, and I shake my head. “You’re just earning your nickname over and over.”
I let out a hoarse chuckle and kiss her hand again, feeling relief overwhelm me. I’m unable to open my eyes as a sob works its way through my body. I’m so overwhelmed with relief that hearing her talk and joke has my emotions wrecked.
