Prologue
Fallon
“I didn’t come this far to only come this far.” That’s the mantra I keep repeating over and over while I’m sitting in this place. I swore I would do anything to avoid being here again. That’s why a little over a year ago, I packed what I could into my old small SUV. Old Faithful is what I like to call her. She’s been with me since I got my first job out of college. Those days are gone, as well as the job I loved so much. It was worth it to leave it behind. My family, not so much. It took one too many trips to the emergency room, a plethora of excuses, and a nurse to look me dead in the eye, telling me if I didn’t get out of the situation I was in, the next time I came in, I’d more than likely be worse, if not dead.
The nice lady basically drilled that into my head, and not in a mean way, but in a nurturing ‘she didn’t want to see it happen to anyone’ type of way. A long and never-ending overnight hospital stay later, I drove myself back to where I lived with Brad. The jacked-up ribs he left me with, along with a black eye and an aching jaw, be damned. I wasn’t home, that much I knew. The one good quality about Brad was that he always kept a job, even with the beatings he gave me. I’m just the idiot who stayed entirely too long thinking I could change a man. Newsflash, you can’t. It didn’t take me long to pack my clothes into my car, grab a few personal items and documents I knew would be necessary.
I’ll never forget the day my parents opened the door. When I arrived at their house, my mother’s hand flew to her mouth, holding in a silent scream, tears streaming down her cheeks. My father, the stoic one, said a few choice words, turned on his heel, and was headed to where I knew he kept his shotguns. It took me running after him, in pain, for him to stop, my arms wrapped around his middle. My mom came to my side. It was a hard day. There was a lot of talking, a lot of crying, and a shit ton of planning. Brad wasn’t an idiot. His family is wealthy, and he has the local cops in his back pocket, which is why after I attempted to report what happened the first time, and it got shut down, I kept my head down, made excuses, and used plenty of makeup to hide the bruises. This time, he went too far. There was no way I would stay. My mother, the blessing that she is, always told me to keep money out for myself, in a separate bank account, something my father instilled in her early on in their marriage. In his mind anything could happen, and he wanted her to have a sense of independence too. So, with their blessing, after my dad took my car to fill up the tank, picked me up a new prepaid cell phone, trashing the other in the river miles and miles away, I left my parents, knowing it would be hard for all of us to cope. And who knows of the repercussions it could cause them once Brad found out I left.
“You sure didn’t.” Doc walks into the emergency room I was placed in. Just when you think things can’t get worse, they do. I’ve seen him and his friends multiple times at the diner and have had a few conversations with Doc when he came in after a late shift. I never would have thought he’d be my doctor at one of the worst moments in my life.
I went a whole nine months without seeing any sign of Brad, and just like that, when I was walking out of the diner tonight, the only place that will pay me cash under the table, Brad Davis was waiting on me. And of fucking course, it was dark. Not a single soul seemed to be around. The last thing I remember is screaming for help, then waking up in an ambulance, being told to calm down, knowing I needed to get back to my apartment, pack my things, and leave again.
One
Doc
“Oh.” Fallon’s mouth is left hanging open when I finally announce my presence. I was just sitting down to enjoy the nastiest coffee on this planet. It should be named sludge more than coffee. It sucks when your whole life is nothing but your child, work, and the club, in no particular order. Monroe moving out only solidified that I needed to start living and not working so much. Even still, it’s hard to say no when the house you worked so hard for is empty. I took my first sip, finally settling down for my break when Rage sent me a text asking if I was at the hospital tonight. Where else would I be if I wasn’t at the club? I responded yes, and he gave me one more reply, “En route. Fallon.” That’s all that he said, so I didn’t know what type of shape she’d be in.