Curly (Hell's Handlers MC Florida Chapter 1)

How dare he…

As he wrenched the door open and started to storm into the hallway, Brooke called out, “I’m fine, by the way. Thanks for asking. In some pain, but it’s nothing major. I’ll be going home tomorrow. By my fucking self!”

Not her most mature moment, but he’d pissed her off.

Back to her, he paused. Brooke held her breath, wiling him to turn around even if she couldn’t say the words aloud. His shoulders drooped. “If you’d take a minute to let go of your stubborn pride, you’d realize that I do care, Brooke. I care so much, I’ll do goddammed anything to make sure you’re all right. Even piss you off by taking over.” He marched into the hall just as Nancy was coming in.

“Whoa!” Nancy said as a Curly tornado blew past her. She blinked, watched after him for a second, then turned back to Brooke. “I take it he’s mad?”

With a snort, Brooke shook her head. “Something like that.”

A heavy sigh left Nancy. “How are you feeling, sweetie?”

“See,” she muttered. “It’s not hard to ask someone in the hospital how they are doing?”

Nancy pressed her lips together. “Um…”

Waving her friend in, Brooke shook her head. “It’s nothing. Come on in.”

At some point, Nancy had been lucky enough to take a shower and rid herself of all the remnants of the fire. She’d shoved her still-damp hair in a messy pile on top of her head. Brooke would kill for a shower; hell, even a bucket of water would be great. The doctor told her to keep her hands dry for the next forty-eight hours, which sounded like an absolute treat.

Her friend stepped into the room and took the seat next to the bed. “What are the doctors saying?” She looked much more comfortable dressed in loose linen shorts and an army green T-shirt than Brooke felt.

“I have some second-degree burns on my arms, hands, and knees. My back is bruised and sore as hell thanks to a chunk of wood that landed on me.”

“God, Brooke.” Nancy blinked rapidly as though chasing tears away.

She nodded at her friend. “I know. I’m very lucky.”

“I’m not sure you’re even aware of how lucky you are. I saw Curly pull you from that building seconds, seconds before it collapsed, Brooke.” Nancy shuddered. “That sight will be in my nightmares for a long time to come.”

Never would she have imagined her decision to ignore the notes would have such far-reaching implications. Curly, Nancy, Daniel, the rest of the MC, and the dogs. All affected by her choice. “I’m sorry,” she whispered to her friend.

Nancy placed her hand over Brooke’s thigh. Usually full of spunk and sass, her friend’s expression remained grim. “He’s angry about the notes?”

“Pretty sure they don’t have a word for how angry he is. He rode in here on his high horse spewing accusations and telling me how dumb it was to keep the threats to myself. Can you believe him?”

Huffing out some of her frustration, she glanced at her friend.

“What?” she asked when Nancy only tilted her head and pressed her lips together. “Don’t tell me you’re on his side here? He was an ass!” She began coughing all over again. Damn, her chest ached liked she’d run a marathon in the freezing cold.

Nancy lifted her hands in surrender. “Brooke, if David did what you did, he’d be in a hospital bed because I’d be the one who put him there. And can you imagine if I kept such important information like that from him? It’d destroy him.”

“I guess,” Brooke said as her resolve began to waver and ice slithered into her stomach. “But you’re married.”

“And you are in a relationship with Curly. Maybe you two haven’t defined it yet or whatever because you’re both too stubborn and prideful for your own damn good, but you are in a relationship.”

“N—”

She leveled Brooke with a shut-the-hell-up stare. “Brooke, he’s in your bed every single night.”

She sighed. Nancy and her logic were going to crumble Brooke’s thick walls.

“Look, the man may not have expressed himself in the best way, but he’s right. I’m sorry. He dragged you from a burning building with seconds to spare. Try to imagine how he feels. If he’d been a minute later, you’d be dead and all because you were too obstinate to talk to him.” She leaned in, so Brooke had no choice but to look her straight in the eye. “Needing someone else once in a while doesn’t make you weak. Letting a man help you, participate in your life, and share your burdens doesn’t mean you are giving up your independence or losing your identity.”

It sounded so easy when Nancy said it. “While I was in the kennel, scrambling to save the dogs and trying not to get hurt, I wished he was there to help me. And then I got mad at myself for being weak.” She shrugged and averted her gaze. Admitting her internal struggles wasn’t an easy task. After spending a decade with a man who ridiculed her for her thoughts and actions, being vulnerable to anyone, even her best friend, was as daunting as scaling Mt. Everest.