Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 107118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
My gut clenched. “He’s on medication?”
“What we get on the black market. He needs to be looked at properly, but he won’t because . . .” Cowboy stalled. He scooted to the edge of the couch and really looked at me. “The seizures get bad . . .” The vision of Hush hitting the floor and jerking, arms and legs thrashing, sprang into my mind. The nightmarish picture was enough to flood my eyes with tears again. “But it’s what those seizures represent to him, cher. That’s what has him so closed off. I ain’t saying what that is. I’m hoping, fucking praying, that he’ll tell you one day. The physical side of the seizures he can cope with. It’s the mental side that’s harder to handle.”
“And they’ll stop him from riding, won’t they?” I added, remembering there was some rule about Hangmen not riding if something was wrong with them, something that caused obvious health issues.
Cowboy shrugged. “I don’t personally think Styx will give two shits. Figure if you wanna take your life in your hands like that, then that’s your deal.”
My stomach rolled. “But Hush could be killed.”
“In this life, cher, we could be killed at any minute. You know we deal in some dark shit. But Hush, he’s got used to the signs.” He sighed. “So have I. It’s how we’ve lived so far without incident. He feels off, he don’t ride.”
“It’s why you haven’t moved onto the club’s land. Why y’all don’t live out there like the rest of them.”
“Yup.”
I found my fingers tracing a rough patch on Hush’s skin. “Cowboy . . . these patches on his arms . . . where the ink of the tattoos hasn’t taken well . . .”
“Are not my story to tell,” he said firmly. Cowboy sat back on the couch. “He’ll sleep for a while, cher. He needs to get his energy back. He needs to get his body warmed back up.” I knew I should move away from him. Let him sleep. But I couldn’t move. Seeing him like that on the floor, Cowboy jumping in and staying beside him until the seizure subsided, was the only thing that filled my head.
Leaning closer to Hush, I whispered, “You can trust me, baby. Please just let me in.” I laid my head back against the couch cushion and kept hold of his hand, kissing each finger in turn. I was determined to show him that he could let me in too.
He seemed so lonely . . . and so was I.
Maybe we could be a little less lonely together.
*****
The sound of murmuring voices pulled me from a deep sleep. I was too hot. I kicked my leg out from a blanket someone must have placed over me. I rolled over, realizing I was lying on a couch. When I opened my eyes, I saw Hush was awake on the other couch. Cowboy was sitting on the chair beside the fire.
“I fell asleep?” I asked. It was dark outside. The fire was still burning. My eyes moved from the fire to Hush. He met my eyes briefly, and then looked away. My heart sank. No . . . He was going to push me away again. I could see it. The hard mask he had shed after the seizure was again firmly in place, a scowl on his face and his eyes frosted over.
His protective shield.
I looked at Cowboy. But before he could even meet my eyes, he got up off the couch and stormed out of the room. The door that led to the porch slammed shut. I hadn’t been able to hear the conversation they’d been having as I awoke, but I could guess at the topic.
Me. Hush’s rejection of me, once again.
Hush’s attention was back on the fire. I got up and went into the kitchen. I poured myself a large glass of water and one for Hush. I took the water to him, but I didn’t look at him. I wasn’t sure I could, not right now. My stomach was in pieces at the thought of him never letting me hold his hand again. Or kiss his soft lips.
I had no idea what the hell it would take for me to get through to him.
I went upstairs into the bathroom and started the shower. The fire in the living room mixed with the warm weather had made the house a friggin’ sauna. I didn’t care because that’s what Hush had needed. Still needed to help him recover.
I stepped into the shower and let the cool water run over my head. I reached for the body wash and began soaping up my skin. As my hands ran over my shoulders and the sides of my back, I thought of Hush. For once I thought of something else but Juan in these moments. I let my fingertips ghost over the marks that I’d only ever kept to myself.