I exhale slowly. Even though I can see how this confession has hurt him, for the first time since I’ve been in Jett’s employ, I feel relief. It’s short-lived when Grim narrows his eyes and says, “What the fuck do you mean two men? And if you say Kick, so help me God ...”
“It’s not Kick. His name is Joshua. He’s ... he’s my husband.”
“Husband? I don’t see no ring on your finger.”
“I sold it to pay for his care.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? You told me you had no one.”
“You asked me why my car was still in the shop, and why I live in the shittiest neighbourhood in Sydney. It’s because every cent I earn goes into Joshua’s care. Do you think ... do you think we can make a stop on the way to the clubhouse?”
“Prez’s orders were to go straight there.”
“Please? He’s been doing poorly lately, and I can’t go into lockdown without seeing him first. Please, Grim? I’d never forgive myself if something happened to him and I didn’t ... I have to see him.”
He inhales sharply through his nose and breathes out on a sigh. “Fine. Get dressed in whatever you can find. I think I got a pair of old sweats that might fit you, from before you started fattening me up with those clubhouse meals.”
I frown. My food does not make everyone fat. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”
GRIM
“MRS COLE, VISITING hours aren’t until nine.” The stalwart nurse rolls her eyes over Raine and then me. It’s clear from her raised brow and stern expression she finds us wanting.
“I know.” Raine smiles, and I swear to God it lights up the whole motherfucking room. Not that this bitch deserves any pleasantries. “I’m really sorry, but I have to see him now. I’m going out of town for a few days.”
The nurse glares at me. I stare firmly back and fold my arms over my cut. My Savage Saints MC patches catch her eye and she grimaces. “I ... hope everything is okay?”
“Oh, it’s fine. Just a family matter.” Raine makes a casual hand gesture, as if she could wave away the nurse’s concerns. “This is my brother, Grim.”
“Are you in trouble, Mrs Cole?” the nurse asks.
“No. Why would I be?”
“You show up here outside of visiting hours with a strange man, in clothes that obviously aren’t your own and grazes on your face.”
“I was in an accident last night.”
“Really?”
“Yes, and Grim really is my brother.”
“I thought you and Joshua had no other family.”
“We’re estranged—or, we were.” I lean over the counter. I don’t like this bitch giving Raine the third fucking degree like some old schoolmarm. “This is kind of a pressing matter, so if you could hurry it the hell up it would be appreciated. I wanna see my brother-in-law. It’s been a lifetime. Right, Raine?”
She baulks and gives the head nurse an uneasy smile. “Right.”
“Well, I’m sorry if this process isn’t fast enough for you, but since visiting hours aren’t until nine, we have to ask questions to ensure the safety of our residents. So, if you’ll both sign the guestbook.” She levels me with a hard glare. “For security purposes, you understand?”
I yank the pen off her and sign her precious fucking guestbook, then I hand it to my “sister” and she does the same. The schoolmarm manages a half-arsed smile, and I guess the devil really does walk among us because this bitch is meaner than a cut snake. “Joshua is just about to have breakfast. He’s not ready for company, of course.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind cleaning him up.”
We follow the nurse down a long corridor, past rooms with other residents and nurses helping them get ready for a day of sitting around and waiting for their family to visit. I ain’t ever going out like that. Bikers never live long enough to make it to a nursing home anyway, and thank fuck for that. If I end up an old man with saggy balls, having someone wipe my arse, I’ll slit my own goddamn throat.
Raine said her husband was in care, not that he was in an old people’s home. Just how fucking old is he? And if he’s about to croak, shouldn’t she be rolling in cash? Seems like a fair pay-off for having to fuck old-man dick.
Halfway down the hall, Raine walks into a room without knocking. It’s dark, save for the light from the TV. It’s playing one of those stupid morning shows where those arseholes sit on a couch in their designer clothes with their fancy fucking make-up and hair and pretend to know what it’s like to live in the real world.
My gaze darts from that shit to the competition. There, in a narrow bed, is a man no older than me. He’s emaciated, his legs and arms like matchsticks poking out through his pyjamas. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Hey, Joshy. How are you feeling today?” Raine shoots me a look as she leans down and kisses the invalid’s forehead. He jerks excitedly as she hugs him close, but then his eyes are fixed to the television again. Raine’s smile vanishes as she sits in the chair beside his bed. Her gaze settles on me, and fuck if I don’t want to go to her and take her in my arms just to ease the pain I see in her. “Anoxic brain injury. It occurs when the brain is deprived of oxygen. We had an incident about two years’ ago.”
“An incident?”
“Joshua ... tried to end things.”
“Shit.” I sit heavily in the chair near the closet. “There a cure? There must be something—”
“No,” she answers sharply, then she looks at her husband—fuck ... her husband. Somehow, that’s so much worse than her just being in love with Prez, or disgusted by my scars. Raine can’t be with me or Prez—she’s too fucking busy taking care of a husband who’s already got one foot in the grave. It’d be kinder to everyone just to put him down like a dog.
Raine smiles at him, and I don’t know how much he can take in, but there’s a sadness to his eyes that wasn’t there before. “There’s no cure, but we’re not giving up. Are we, Joshy?”
He groans and gives what I assume is a nod. Raine pulls the cover from the breakfast tray and picks up a spoon. She scoops some of the congealed mush and smiles at Josh like he hung the fucking moon. Watching Raine spoon-feed her husband brings out the worst kind of reaction in me. I feel sick. I feel so much love and sorrow and pity for her, and yet I’m filled with longing because if she can look after a cripple like him, then maybe she could fall in love with me. Hell, I know that’s not ever gonna happen. She’s all full up loving the man she vowed to care for, in sickness and in health.
I can’t bear this. I can’t be in the goddamn room a second longer. I stand abruptly, and both sets of eyes land on me. “I’m ... I’m gonna stretch my legs, give you guys some privacy.”
“Grim, you don’t have to go.”
“Yeah, babe. I do.” I’m all too aware of her husband’s eyes on me, and I meet his gaze and tilt my chin. “Good to meet you, man.”
I don’t shake his hand, because I don’t know if it will cause him pain or undue stress if he can’t manage it. I may be just another biker who’s full of vengeance and need, but I can’t imagine loving a woman like Raine and losing her to a fucking brain injury after I tried to off myself. Even I’m not filled with enough violence and hate to wish this guy harm. What I wish for him is a swift and painless death, because to be debased like this, reduced to a sack of shit who can’t even feed himself, and be humiliated in front of the woman you love just doesn’t seem right.