Page 183 of Possession

“How is the pain?” I’m sitting by my newfound brother’s side. “Should I ask the nurse if you can have another pain killer?”

He pulls in a deep breath and shakes his head. “I’m an idiot. If I’d been at the tunnel with them, my ass would be sitting in jail right now. I deserve the pain.”

“Don’t say that. You’re lucky. The doctor said other than a scar, you’ll make a complete recovery and won’t suffer any long-term effects.”

“What the hell am I going to do in New York?” He scrapes a hand down his face and stares at the ceiling. “I’ve never been out of California. I have no experience other than fucking up with a motorcycle club.”

“You and I are so similar. I worked at Nordstrom’s dressing people. Before I was sold to the Marinos, my biggest problems were if my coffee order was wrong or if I’d need to worry about seasonal fashion rules in SoCal since the temperature hardly changes. I want to do something, but I don’t know what that is.”

He turns his head on the pillow toward me. He looks younger than he ever has. There’s no bravado or swagger or brave face to impress anyone with. He’s a man-boy barely old enough to vote or join the armed forces. Hell, he can barely buy a lotto ticket in the Golden State.

He’s lost, and he needs a family.

I reach for his hand and give him a squeeze. “We’ll figure it out together. You don’t need a club, and I don’t need to be supported by organized crime.”

Rocco rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but you’ve got … whatever his name is.”

“Brax,” I stress, trying not to let it show how just saying his name makes me nervous. The longer I hold this piece of information that he’s been so desperately searching for, the worse I feel. I swallow over the lump in my throat. “Yes. I have him, and you have us. He took care of June, Miranda, and Spencer. He’ll do the same for you.”

“I will do the same.”

I turn quickly when I hear his voice. Brax is standing in the doorway of the hospital room. Micah is behind him, arms crossed leaning a shoulder to the door jamb.

For as long as I’ve known the man I’ve called my husband, he’s always dressed like he could walk into a boardroom or a fancy cocktail bar. Very rarely would he put on a pair of jeans.

But I’ve never seen him like this.

Brax is dressed from head to toe in black. Tactical pants fit him too well and have more pockets than I can count. His T-shirt stretches across his chest and his biceps bulge from beneath screaming at the world that he’s DEA. His hair is messy, and his short-clipped beard is thicker than normal.

And he’s safe.

I didn’t know it was possible to love someone so much that it would make me desperate with fear with the possibility I might have to live without them.

My voice is raw. “You’re back.”

His warm, dark eyes never veer from me as he takes the few strides across the small room. His hand dips into my hair, and he gives it a slight pull to tip my face to his. When his lips touch mine, warmth fills me. I do everything I can to push away the dread of the conversation that needs to happen soon.

So very soon.

When he bumps my nose with his, I fall deeper in love. “Did you convince Rocco to switch coasts?”

“I didn’t give him a choice. I told him we’ll figure out everything when we get there.”

Brax stands and looks down at our young friend. “We will. You got a second chance today, Roc. We’ll make sure you don’t fuck it up this time.”

“Poetic as ever,” Micah mutters. “When are we blowing out of California? Everyone here is so perfect, I’m starting to get a complex.”

Brax looks down at Rocco. “How bad are those burns? Can you travel?”

“They said there was a chance of infection if I didn’t keep it dressed. But I’m taking so many meds, I don’t know how that would happen.”

“I’ll make sure he’s okay. The nurse taught me how to take care of it,” I say.

“I’ve never been on a plane before,” Rocco adds. “I’m gonna need at least a six pack.”

Brax huffs. “You want government agents to buy a minor alcohol at the airport? Not happening.”

“You’ll be fine,” I assure Rocco.

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