Filthy (Diamondback MC 5)

“I appreciate it. Rage, you too.” I nod, then I’m heading back towards Fallon, needing to know exactly what we’re up against.

Five

Fallon

The first thing I notice when I start to wake up is the overpowering smell of antiseptic. That’s when everything replays on a reel. Brad attacking me in the parking lot, losing consciousness, coming to in the hospital, Cole being there when I woke up, him taking charge, my crazy self allowing it, and then passing out again. The beeping of the machine lets me know I’m hooked up to more monitors. Again. Okay, I take that back. Last time I had to stay in a hospital was in high school after one too many practices as a cheerleader and my heart was not in agreement with it. Even with Brad, I wasn’t hooked up to that many machines. It feels my life has come full circle, because this is where I am yet again.

I wiggle my toes, then my hands, on the cusp of opening my eyes when I hear Cole talking to what sounds like both of my parents. Though Mom’s voice is really hard to hear. Try as I might, these stupid eyes of mine won’t open, even when my dad says, “I knew I shouldn’t have let her do her own thing. Clearly, Brad had no problem pulling this stunt where it’s possible for passersby to see. Who’s to say he won’t do it again?”

“I’m hoping if she stays with me and the club, it’ll give her a safe haven, allowing us to draw him out. I know he’s got deep connections, so we’ll have to be careful,” Cole says, taking on way more than he ever should, and the silly man hasn’t even kissed me.

“Cole.” My voice works. Finally.

“Oh, Fallon.” Mom’s voice comes out as a plea.

“I’m okay, promise.” My eyes finally open. Everyone is blurry, and if that incessant beeping quit, I’d feel ten times better.

“Girlie, you’re far from fine. You’ll get there though.” The rough tone in my dad’s voice has my head moving to the side too fast, and I suck in a breath of air, which also freaking hurts.

“It must be really bad if you and Mom are here,” I finally squeak out, my eyes fully open and functioning.

“We’ll talk about that later.” This comes from Cole. He’s standing at the foot of my hospital bed, no longer in his hospital scrubs. Instead, his hair looks wet from a shower, the white cotton shirt shows off his muscular chest and the tattoos peeking through, and I’ll just bet the jeans he’s wearing are perfectly hugging him in all the right ways.

“Sure, whatever you say, Cole.” I roll my eyes. My mom full out belly laughs. I’d like to say I have a lot of her qualities, but I don’t, well, maybe besides her personality. In the right moment, we can be downright in your face, vulgar in the worst of times, and laughing to keep from crying.

“Quit busting my balls, woman, and spend time with your parents. Doctor Stone will be back in to make rounds soon. That’s when shit will get serious.” God, he doesn’t even know the half of what will be waiting for me outside these walls if Brad has his way.

“Okay, but can I get some water?” I ask hesitantly, worried he’ll tell me no and knowing what that means.

“Yeah. I’ll even get you some food if you’re up to it.” I must make a face because Cole grins before moving towards the table with the prerequisite water pitcher and foam cup with a straw.

“I guess there is good news after all, but I’ll pass on the hospital food.” I scrunch my nose, the same thing my mom does when a food or idea doesn’t appease her.

“How about your mother and I run to the fast food joint? We’ll get you some fries and the Diet Coke we all know you’re addicted to.” My father leans over, moving the hair that’s fallen to the side, kisses it and squeezes my hand.

“Okay.” I return the sentiment, kissing his cheek, then Mom comes over, cups my cheeks before saying, “We love you. Cole’s going to go over a few things with you. Trust him because what he has to say has a lot of merit.”

“Alright, Momma, I will. Can you at least tell Daddy not to skimp and get me a medium Diet Coke?”

“I sure will. Love you, sweet pea.” She looks deep into my eyes, the same color as hers, one of the only characteristics we share.

“Love you.” I watch as my parents leave, apprehension sitting in the pit of my stomach. There’re so many things that could go wrong. Are they saying their goodbyes? My dad was once in the military, something he never discusses. His medals were always in the back of his closet, along with his uniform. The only times I heard about them were when a few of his friends stopped by during my childhood.