Thick (Diamondback MC 8)

“Valentina, baby, you’ve gotta at least drink somethin’.” I’m catatonic; that’s the only word that I can use right now. I’m lying on my side, tears not subsiding, lips chapped, and I’m exhausted, needing sleep. Too bad every time I close my eyes, I relive that moment, those last words Crank told me.

“Go away,” I murmur.

“Fine, you’ve forced my hand. I’m goin’ to throw your ass in a cold shower if you don’t pull yourself together.” He sweeps my rat nested hair out of my face. How do I know that my hair’s a mess? That’s easy. I looked in the mirror the last time I used the bathroom. I’m a fucking wreck, and I don’t know how to claw my way out of it. No, that’s not it. I’m tired, bone tired, emotionally, mentally, and physically tired. In a famous country singer’s words, my give a damn is busted.

“I don’t care what you do.” We haven’t said more than a handful of sentences to each other. I take that back, that was me not talking to him. Corey hasn’t left my side. In doing so, he’s talked. God, has he talked, so much that he’s talked me to death. And if I could get away from him, the club, the world, I’d do it, but I fucking can’t, and it’s really starting to get to me.

“You will when I put your ass in the hospital because you’re starvin’ yourself, barely drinkin’. Son of a bitch, Valentina, you’ve been doing the bare minimum to keep yourself alive for almost a week now. I won’t have you killin’ yourself. Crank would kick your ass himself if he knew this is how you’re handlin’ things.” He takes my hand in his, squeezing it. I do nothing in return, so Corey continues on, “I know you’ve been through some shit the past few days, but if you don’t do somethin’ soon, you’ll miss out on Crank’s funeral.” Tears flood my cheeks. Just when I thought they were drying up, it’s like an avalanche explodes.

“I can’t breathe. It’s consuming my soul, knowing that this was my fault. Everything has been my fault all along,” I admit part of the overwhelming feeling that’s taken over my mind. I sit up, lightheaded and disoriented, my eyes squinting against the sunlight that’s blazing through the blinds, a harsh reality that the sun is shining brightly when all I want is to see the gloom of the rain, matching my soul right now.

“No, no, no. Not now and not ever. This was not your fault. You want to blame someone, blame Brian, or blame me, but, gorgeous, this is not your burden to bear.” We haven’t talked about the giant elephant in the room, and now isn’t the time. I don’t think I have the strength to talk, let alone argue.

“You can’t help the way you feel, Corey.” I shrug my shoulders. Even that takes the wind out of my sails.

“No, I guess you can’t. Try a few bites of soup at least?” This isn’t a side I’ve seen of Corey, and if the world weren’t so doom and gloom for me, I’d probably appreciate it more. That’s not going to happen right now.

“Fine, I’m not missing Crank’s funeral. Don’t even think about admitting me to the hospital or trying to get Doc to pump me full of medication. I’ll leave, and you’ll never find me if you do that.” The sternness in my voice shocks even myself.

“As long as you eat and fuckin’ shower. I mean, you’re pretty, but, Valentina, you stink.” I laugh. It escapes me, and then I cry again. I don’t know how everyone else is coping. Crank was in my life for a matter of weeks, and it physically pains me to know he’s gone. I don’t know how the rest of the MC is handling this.

“Take a bite.” Corey holds the bowl of soup underneath the spoon he has ready for me to eat. I nod my head. We do this until my stomach revolts, and I shake my head no. Corey doesn’t push for more. My head meets the pillow, and my eyes close. The next time I wake up, things will be better, If not, I’ll fake it till I make it, and maybe I’ll take a shower, too, because Corey isn’t wrong. I do stink.

16

BULLET

“Son of a bitch, this is goin’ to suck.” It’s been a week since we lost Crank and shit went down, a week of Valentina closing down from everyone except the Ol’ Ladies. If one of the brothers walks by, she retreats into herself. I get it. We all kept shit from her, including her mom, for the entirety of Valentina’s life. That doesn’t mean I gave up on there being a future between us. In fact, my ass was in bed right beside her every single night. I’d wrap my body around her back, hold her while she didn’t say a word. Not even a ‘fuck you’ was whispered from between her lips. We’d wake up with me on my back and her face in my throat, one of her legs thrown over my hip, and her hand on my heart. I never said a word, though. If she needed this silent comfort, well that’s what I’d give her, forever.