Page 52 of Exile & Lula
“Only when she’s nervous,” I muttered and then sighed. “Like, right now.”
“How about tomorrow you ride to Baton Rouge?” Lula suggested, and I instantly felt a stabbing pain in my chest. “I’ll come down this weekend.”
“Is that safe? You traveling, I mean.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Lula said and squeezed my hand. “If you’re too worried about me traveling, you could pack up your sister and nieces and come back for the weekend. We couldmake it a party. Then, we can figure out the next step, like me buying a house in Baton Rouge.”
Leaning over, I covered her lips with mine and felt my body unclench. I was torn between two women who needed my protection. I loved them both. They wanted me to be happy. If I could find a way to fit my Baton Rouge life with what I shared with Lula, I’d never have any reason to complain again.
I kept Lula’s lips busy for a few minutes before the real world broke through our desire. She looked at the hospital and held her breath. I thought to say something reassuring, but Lula didn’t need words. She knew the answers. What she needed from me was to remain at her side while she faced her fears.
Alon “Nine” Tooker sat outside the sisters’ hospital room. His wavy brown hair shadowed his dark eyes. He stood up and hugged Lula while reaching over to shake my hand. Nine was the son of a member of the Rawlins Heretics Motorcycle Club. His mom ran with the Everything Nice Crew. His siblings were also members of the Crimson Guard.
“Hazard and Anise were exhausted,” Nine told Lula. “Ben took them to the Sorority House.”
“How are Cher and Stevie?”
“Stevie’s going home in a day or two. Cher’s still unconscious, but she reacts to stimuli. I don’t know how much any of that means overall, but it’s something, right?”
When Lula hugged Nine again, I got the urge to separate them. Rather than reveal my jealous nature, I replayed Lula’s words from last night.She loved me.If she wanted Nine, she could have made her move years ago. She wasn’t a woman who suffered in silence.
I didn’t need to make a stink. I was here to keep her safe and get along with her people.
No matter how sensible I tried to be, I feared someone might steal Lula from me. If not her family, then mine would comebetween us. Or the Void might attack again. I’d never recover if I lost Lula.
Inside the hospital room were two beds. Stevie sat in one, surrounded by her friends who were fixing her pink hair. In the other bed rested Cher. Much of her body was in a cast, and her head was wrapped.
Lula went to Cher and stroked her pale cheek. Stevie stumbled out of bed and hurried over.
“She reacts to my voice. See?” Stevie said and leaned down to speak Cher’s name.
From my spot near the door, I could see the unconscious woman’s eyelids flutter. She showed no other reaction.
“She’s getting better,” Stevie insisted in a panicky voice.
“Come rest,” Sabrina insisted and guided Stevie back to the second bed. “We haven’t finished your braids.”
As Lula stared at Cher, Vanessa joined her. I heard them whispering, but their words were too quiet for me to hear what they were saying. My gaze flashed to Sabrina watching me with the dark eyes she inherited from Bebe.
Next to her was Goldie Chester, another transplant from Rawlins. Her bleached blonde hair was slicked back, and her face did little to hide her bad mood.
“You’re still here,” Sabrina said to me after finishing Stevie’s braids. “Doesn’t your club miss you?”
Lula ignored her younger sister’s troublemaking and focused on Vanessa, who began to cry.
“Cher’s starting to wake up,” Stevie insisted. “She’s getting better.”
Goldie hugged Stevie and watched me. “How long will you be in Little Memphis?”
“Another day,” I said, and noticed Lula look at me over her shoulder. “But I’ll be back.”
“Why?” Sabrina asked.
“I’m dating your sister.”
“Oh, is that still happening? I thought she’d be tired of you by now.”
“I’m surprisingly addictive,” I replied, winning a scowl from Sabrina.
