Numb (King's Harlots MC Book 5), Page 3

  THE WORDS ENGRAVED in stone stared up at me.

  Laughing. Taunting.

  They egged me on until I broke and shattered like glass, breaking into tiny pieces only never to be put back together again.

  I wasn’t sure how I ended up at the graveyard, but after leaving Brogan in the basement, I hopped on my bike and the world fell away from around me.

  My baby, tiny and fragile, never stood a chance. She was never given the right to breathe or make it in this world. She was taken away from me before I ever got a chance to hear her cry or feel her heart beat. She was gone before I could stare into the eyes I knew would belong to her father.

  As soon as I found out I was pregnant, I was in love. It was a different sort of love than what I felt for Dale. It was a love I knew I would get in return. I didn’t have to worry about my baby breaking my heart or laughing in my face when I first told her I loved her. I didn’t have to hold back my feelings for fear she would think I was crazy. I could protect her and let her be her. And if it would have been a boy, I would show him how to treat women. How to be the man of the house without being a complete asshole like his father. I would … I would show him or her, the good things about their father. I would never bad talk him in front of our baby.

  But I was never given the chance. The only thing her death didn’t take from me was the love I had for her. Nothing could take that away.

  Screams sounded in my head, forcing me to my knees when I realized they were coming from my mouth. The pain was worse than anything I had ever felt. It was like a part of me was ripped from my soul. I had begged God to take me knowing I wasn’t strong enough to deal with this on my own, but he took my daughter instead.

  I had pleaded with the doctors to save her. To wake Dale up so he could be with me. But nothing. They probably thought I had gone mad.

  I tried forcing those memories from my mind, not wanting to taint the soil with my anger. “Oh, baby girl,” I sobbed, brushing my fingers over the words staring up at me. No matter how much the doctors and nurses told me I should give her a name, I couldn’t. Instead, I provided the funeral home with both my last name and Dale’s.

  Baby girl Stanton Michaels was good enough. It was perfect. I just wished Dale could be there with me. To hold me. To tell me it would be okay and I would get through this. That no matter what, our baby was in a better place. Maybe she was a little girl now instead of a newborn. With blonde curls framing her round face and bright blue eyes like sapphire gem stones. I imagined her playing with dolls. Or maybe she was a tomboy. Maybe she liked to play with cars and trucks instead. Wherever she was, I just prayed she was happy. I didn’t believe in life after death, but at that moment, I would give anything to know she was safe and happy instead of just stuck beneath the soil.

  My fingers dug into the earth, my tears streaming down my cheeks and landing on the grass. Bone crushing sobs wracked through my body, tearing my soul apart.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to keep you safe. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. It should have been me.” I inhaled a shaky breath. “I’m sorry,” I repeated, my whispered words falling like leaves from a tree only to rot away in the earth. Like my sanity.

  ***

  Every time I left the gravesite, I felt naked and vulnerable. Stripped bare and completely exposed for the world to see and judge.

  It was the next morning, and after passing out from diving deep within a bottle of vodka, I was hungover and grumpy as hell. Alcohol didn’t solve shit but it made me forget, even if it was just for a couple of hours. It was a dangerous game I was playing, and I knew without a doubt the vodka would surely win. It was the true master, and I was just a lowly pawn.

  With coffee in hand, I stood outside the room leading to my destruction.

  Taking a breath, I pushed open the door, my gaze instantly landing on Dale. His eyes remained closed much like they had done for the past few weeks.

  “He hasn’t woken,” the nurse had told me.

  My chest pained, my heart thumping hard against my rib cage like it was trying to escape.

  Walking into the room, I shut the door behind me and made my way to the end of his bed. The scruff on his jaw had grown in some more.

  Since the first time I met him, he finally looked at peace. But I wanted to yell and scream at him for it. He shouldn’t be at peace. He should be awake and begging for my forgiveness. He should be standing in front of me and holding me as I shatter in his arms.

  My throat became raw after each hard swallow.

  I didn’t wish any harm on Dale but I also didn’t wish him happiness. I wanted him to suffer just as much as I had over the past couple of months. He had no idea how he made me feel. He probably didn’t even care.

  Walking to the side of the bed, I placed my coffee on the end table and grabbed hold of Dale’s hand. Linking my fingers between his, I reveled in the feel of his calloused and scarred hand in mine. The tiny marks on his knuckles and palm proved how much of a hard worker he had been for most of his life. Those hands had also given me an intense amount of pleasure in the short time I knew him. I wasn’t sure if I could ever feel the same way toward another man. Or that I even wanted to. Being with someone else would never be the same. Dale had his moments of being a selfish lover but something inside me was drawn to the asshole side of him.

  I had tried hard not to fall in love with him, knowing what we had was only for fun. It wasn’t supposed to be anything serious but I couldn’t stop my heart from beating for him.

  My chest tightened. Before I completely lost it again, I loosened my grip and his fingers tightened around mine.

  My eyes widened at the sudden movement. “Dale?”

  He remained still but he wouldn’t release me.

  I squeezed his hand, hinting, waiting, needing something from him that he was in fact waking up.

  His fingers squeezed mine again. The movement was so soft, I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming it or not.

  When he gave my fingers another squeeze, I gasped. “Nurse,” I cried. “Nurse!”

  She rushed in, asking questions and demanding answers but all I could focus on was Dale possibly waking up. I prayed he was. Please. As much as I was pissed at him and hated him with everything I was worth, he didn’t deserve this. No one did.

  “He squeezed my fingers,” I finally said.

  The nurse checked his vitals before rushing out of the room only to bring the doctor back with her.

  While everyone continued working on him, I slowly released his hand and backed out of the room. I couldn’t let him see that I was there. It wasn’t time. I wasn’t ready.

  No one called out to me. No one asked me to stay.

  So many questions bounced around in my mind.

  What if he didn’t remember me? What if he had no idea who anyone was? What if he didn’t remember himself?

  I couldn’t bring myself to question further on what he could or couldn’t remember. It would only drive me insane.

  Once I left his room, I called Angel. No one knew I visited Dale while he had been in a coma. No one would understand because hell, I wasn’t even sure I did.

  “Max,” Jay answered after the first ring.

  “Tell Angel that Dale is awake.” Before she could question how I knew, I hung up. It wasn’t fair of me to expect judgment from my friends but I couldn’t control these raging thoughts taking over everything I believed in.

  As I left the hospital, I decided to call the one person who would be unbiased through everything I had to say.

  “Hello, Maxine.”

  I smiled at the sound of my grandmother’s voice. “Hi, Gammie.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  I sighed, my eyes burning. My grandma knew me well. “Everything.”

  “Talk to me, dear. Your brothers don’t talk to me. They always say they’re fine and tell me not to worry. Talk to me. Tell this old woman what’s on that beautiful mind of yours.”

  I laughed, brushing aw
ay the lonely tear rolling down my cheek. My chest ached for my siblings. The men in my life who had taken care of me when our grandmother couldn’t. But with all five of them being enlisted in the Army and several years older than me, I didn’t see them. And that made the tears fall even harder. “What isn’t on my mind?”

  “I know, sweetheart. Your brothers ask about you.”

  “I miss them,” I whispered.

  “And they miss you but fighting for our country … your grandfather would be proud. Now tell me, what’s gotten you so upset?”

  “I just … the guy I was telling you about, Dale, he’s awake.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful news.”

  I agreed with her. Kind of. We had many things to talk about, but the one I dreaded the most was telling him his daughter had passed away.

  “You’re strong, Maxine. You can do this.”

  When I reached my bike sitting by the curb, I finally commented, “If I was as strong as you, it wouldn’t matter.”

  My grandma scoffed. “Your grandfather was a controlling asshole. But I still loved him. That love is what made me strong. But we can’t fix all of them, dear. You have to remember that.”

  “I know.” Sliding onto my bike, I gripped the phone tight in my hand. “We got along when it wasn’t serious. But I can’t control my heart. I shouldn’t have told him how I felt but I never expected him to react the way he did.”

  “Dale will come around.”

  “What if he doesn’t remember?” I asked, revealing my biggest fear.

  “He will. After everything you have told me, I would bet my house that he does in fact love you.”

  That time I was the one who scoffed. “I love you, Gammie, but you’re wrong.”

  “Either way. Just don’t push him. But also know he might not remember every little detail. Be his friend first. Worry about everything else later.”

  “He doesn’t deserve my friendship,” I muttered.

  “I know but you have to be the one to tell him about his daughter. Before it’s too late.”

  I knew that too. I just didn’t know how it would be seeing him again. When all was said and done, could we be civil?

  ***

  (Dale)

  I was awake.

  Although everything in me was saying to keep sleeping, my eyes opened on their own accord.

  People barked orders back and forth. I frowned, not exactly sure where I was, but what I really wanted was to go home. I wasn’t sure what had happened or how long I had been out but it felt like a damn lifetime.

  “Hi there,” a feminine voice said. “I’m Dr. Andrews. Can you open your eyes for me?”

  My eyelids were heavy as if they were stapled shut but after a couple blinks, they finally remained open.

  An older woman smiled down at me. “It’s nice to see you awake. Do you know your name?”

  “Dale,” I croaked, clearing my throat and tried again. “Dale Michaels.”

  “Good.” Her smile widened. “I’m just going to check your vitals and then you can rest.”

  The blinding light of the room pierced into my retinas, but all I could do was nod. My throat was parched, my lips dry like a desert heat. But no one I knew was in the room with me. Did they not know I was awake?

  A lingering scent suddenly filled the air. My body stirred, parts of me reacting to the unknown source. It smelled of vanilla and roses and damn if it wasn’t delicious.

  “Dale,” Dr. Andrews said, interrupting the torture the intoxicating scent was causing. “You have been in a coma for three weeks. We will do some tests to see how much memory loss you’ve endured but I’m quite certain it won’t be anything too drastic. Do you understand?”

  I nodded, swallowing past the dry lump in my throat.

  A coma. Well, that fucking sucked. “What happened?”

  “You were shot in active duty.” She placed a hand on my shoulder. “I just want to say, thank you for what you have done for our country.”

  My chest tightened. Don’t thank me. I didn’t do shit. I got fucking shot.

  “Get him some water.” Dr. Andrews continued checking me for signs I’d need more medical assistance but all I could focus on was that damn smell.

  “That smell,” I said, my voice rough like I had gargled with broken glass.

  “Shhh …” Dr. Andrews barked some more orders.

  “No.” I tried sitting up, my arms shaking beneath me at the added weight.

  “Dale, lay back. You’re not ready yet.” A nurse pushed my shoulders, lying me back in the bed.

  I huffed, giving up, but I was still determined to find the source of that smell. I needed to know what caused it. The scent calmed me. I couldn’t remember everything that had happened, but I remembered enough that I had come to crave the roses and vanilla mixture.

  “We’ve called your next of kin,” Dr. Andrews told me. “He brought several people with him.” Her eyes warmed. “You’re very loved, Dale.”

  “Is there a Maxine Stanton waiting?” I croaked.

  Dr. Andrews frowned. “I’ll check.”

  A nurse left the room, coming back a moment later only to tell me what I already knew. Max wasn’t in the waiting room.

  I let out a soft curse. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why Max wasn’t waiting with everyone else. Everything had been good between us. Hadn’t it? I couldn’t remember. Everything was black. I had no memory but I knew I had been with her. My heart started racing, the air in my chest becoming tight. Why couldn’t I remember?

  Beeping sounded around me, the machines becoming crazy with noise much like the anxiety I was feeling.

  “Dale,” one of the nurses said. “You need to calm down.”

  “I can’t remember.” I tried. I tried so fucking hard to remember everything I had shared with Max. Every touch. Every kiss. Every single moment. But most of those memories came out blank. Like a dark hole. All my moments with her were lost. They were a jumbled mess, and I knew the only way to help myself remember was by contacting her. “Max.”

  “Dale …” The doctor touched my arm gently. “You need to rest. I’ll inform your friends.”

  A sudden rush of drowsiness took over. My eyelids became heavy, my body feeling like it was falling into an abyss of peace and calm.

  “Max,” I whispered, her name being the last thing on my tongue as I gave in to the control of slumber.

  “JOSEE, DO YOU know where Max is?” I heard Jay ask.

  “She’s in the back.”

  Shit. Way to have my back, Josee. I braced myself, trying with everything in me not to fall back inside the darkness of my mind. Excuses pounded through my head but none of them would go over well with Jay. She knew better. She knew me better then to put up with my shit.

  “Max?” Jay came into the room and stood just inside the door.

  I turned, a soft gasp leaving my mouth. I looked away, the sting of the tears threatening to escape. It wasn’t her fault. None of it was her fault but I was damn envious it was ruining our friendship.

  Her pregnant stomach had become more pronounced since I saw her last. It had only been a couple of days and yet every day her belly swelled even more.

  I tried not letting the pain stabbing me in the chest show on my face but by the deep frown suddenly setting between her eyes, I knew I had lost.

  Choosing to ignore my feelings like usual, I pasted a smile on my face. “What’s up?”

  “We’re going to see Dale,” she said, taking a cautious step toward me. “We went yesterday but they wouldn’t let all of us in.” She paused. “Dale’s asking for you.”

  “Yeah.” I laughed. “Okay.”

  “He is,” she insisted. “He’s been asking since he woke up a week ago.”

  “I love you, Jay, but please don’t try and make me feel better.” I turned back to the blank canvas, letting out a frustrated sigh. There was no way he would be asking for me. I made sure not to leave anything behind indicating I had been there in the first p
lace.

  “You need to plan a party,” Jay suggested. “It will make you feel better.”

  “Maybe,” I mumbled.

  “Plan it for next week. Dale should be out by then. He’s been doing physical therapy, and the doctors are impressed with his progress.”

  My heart jumped. I was happy he was finally awake but I knew when we were finally able to confront each other, I would close up. But he had no issues telling me exactly how he felt.

  “Well, I’m going to head out.” Jay paused at the door. “You sure you want to just stay here?”

  “Yes.” Abso-fucking-lutely. There was no way I could see Dale without it causing a scene. We had so many things to say to each other; a hospital was not the place for it.

  When Jay left, I went back to the blank canvas and stared. And stared some more. The canvas was mocking me. Laughing and teasing me that I had no inspiration because a man broke my heart.

  Letting out a scream, I threw the canvas against the wall.

  Josee charged into the room and headed right for me. “Don’t.” She grabbed my shoulders, spinning me around to face her. “Don’t you dare trash this room.”

  I let out a hard cry, covering my face.

  “I know, honey.” She wrapped her arms around my shoulders, holding me tight. She gave me a squeeze, probably making sure I wouldn’t snap, push her away, and trash everything I had worked hard to create.

  I knew I couldn’t keep doing this to myself. The doctor at the hospital had told me to start talking. Like a counselor would be able to help me. I bit back a scoff.

  “You good?” Josee held me at arm’s length.

  I nodded, rubbing my hand up and down my arm. I let out a slow breath and another. “How did you know I was about to snap?”

  “I’ve dealt with it in my family.” She shrugged, giving me a soft smile. “No big deal.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered. “I think I’m going to head back to the club and …”

  “Get some rest.” She gave me another hug. “And take care of you.”