Page 10 of Built for Dreams

“Running out on her when she needs you the most wasn’t your best move, bro,” Harlan told me.

I scowled at him. “The fuck was I supposed to do then—just sit there and yell at her some more? I thought some space might be fucking better.”

“Go back to the hospital,” Seb quietly spoke up.

“And be there for her,” Adler finished for him. “Give her time. She’s gone through something traumatic. She needs your support more than she needs you to fix this for her right now.”

“So get off your ass and go back,” Harlan told me.

I sneered at him as I shoved back from the table. I pointed a finger at him. “You get on my fucking nerves.”

Harlan smirked. “Just telling it how it is, brother.”

I yanked my truck keys out of my pocket and headed outside. The bike would have been better, but she was going to need a ride when she got discharged. And she would need to get clothes from her house so she could stay with me until I knew it was safe for her to go home. Because likehellwas she staying in that house after she’d just been attacked there. Especially since I didn’t know if this was a one-off situation or someone she knew. Hell, I didn’t knowanythingabout this situation.

Her silence on the matter had me leaning more toward it being someone she knew though, which had me even more worried. Because someone she knew would no doubt come back around, and if I wasn’t there to protect her, they might try to hurt her again.

* * *

Selma was easing out of bed with the help of a nurse when I walked into her room. I felt like a fucking asshole when her eyes brightened at the sight of me.

Harlan was right. I shouldn’t have left.

“Remi,” she breathed.

I roughly cleared my throat, glancing from her to the nurse and then back to her. “Everything okay?”

“She’s just getting discharged,” the nurse informed me as she helped Selma into a wheelchair. “Are you her ride?”

I nodded. I saw Selma doing something on her phone, and when I glanced down, I felt even worse when I saw she was canceling a ride. Fuck, my brothers were right. I’d been an asshole for walking out of here like I had.

“Do you mind pulling your vehicle around to the front of the hospital?” the nurse asked me. “I’ll wheel her out there.”

A few minutes later, Selma was settled into the passenger seat of my truck, and I was hitting the highway, cruising along at thirty-five miles per hour as I headed toward her place. “I’m sorry I left,” I gruffly apologized. “It was stupid of me to do so.”

“You were upset and needed space,” she quietly spoke. “I understand.”

Blowing out a harsh breath, I shook my head. “You needed me there with you more than I needed space. Leaving was a childish move on my part, and I swear, I’ll never leave you in your time of need again.”

She softly smiled at me. “You came back. That’s all that matters to me.”

Fuck, who had hurt her so badly that all she cared about was me coming back?

I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel. “You’re going to stay at the clubhouse with me for a few days. We’re only going to your place long enough for you to grab some clothes and your work stuff so you can still do your pictures and all when you’re feeling better.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

I’d expected more of a fight, and when I didn’t get it, I had to look over at her. Her eyes were shut, and her head was leaning against the window. I knew she had to still be feeling bad. Reaching over, I clasped her hand in mine, holding it on the center console. Her fingers tightened around mine, and a soft smile tilted her lips, even while her eyes remained shut.

I was so gone over her.

* * *

An old, beat-up Chevy was sitting in Selma’s driveway when I pulled up to the house. Selma went so still in my passenger seat, it was like she wasn’t even breathing. Her hand strangled mine.

An old man, who had definitely seen much better days, stumbled out of her house, clearly drunk off his ass.

The math began adding up in my head. The smell of alcohol. The bruise on her face. His broken knuckles.

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