Addictive (Diamondback MC Second Generation 3)

You have to know the past to understand the present.

- Carl Sagan

PROLOGUE

HENLEY

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

“Mom, Mom, Mom!” I’m sitting up in an attempt to get out of my bed, having just been sent home from the hospital the day before. Truth be told, I didn’t even ask for my parents to come, or my brother for that matter. They all have shit going on in their own world. But they weren’t having any of that. I spoke to the doctor about my ongoing fatigue, the bloating that never stopped, my appetite changing, and the pain—God, did the pain about kill me, doubling me over at some points. Thankfully, my doctor listened to me, and the receptionist getting me an appointment the same day I called helped tremendously, too. It felt like it all happened at warp speed—the pelvic exam, pap smear, blood work, and then the dreaded call that I needed a PET scan. As much as I wanted to be strong and do this all on my own, there was no way I could have. My parents came up shortly after the appointment with my gynecologist. The doctor had the results lined up, so after they few into a busy New York airport, stayed with me in my small apartment, we woke up the next day and got the news. When the doctor said total hysterectomy, stage-two cancer, not one ovary but both and my fallopian tubes, it was a double-edged sword all at once. I fell apart. So did Mom. Those fairy tale dreams I had as a child went up in smoke. My dad, he was a pillar of grace, holding my mother while she cried with one arm wrapped around her, the other holding my hand with his. I didn’t cry, though; nope, I just sat there silent as a stone. The doctor told me surgery had to happen right away—the sooner the better—and when she went on to talk about chemotherapy, I interrupted her asking if it was feasible to work with doctors in Texas. The writing was on the wall. I’d need my family surrounding me, and as much as life was kicking me in the teeth, I had to think of others, too. We got the news ten days ago. Three days later, I was in a surgery that was supposed to take a few hours but ended up taking longer because as if things couldn’t go worse, they did. My spleen, of all things, ended up rupturing while I was on the operating table. It’s also why I had to stay in the hospital longer than expected and was only released yesterday.

“Henley Marie, don’t you even think about getting out of that bed, or I’ll get your father and brother in here.” I get that she’s worried about me. Hell, I’m worried about myself. The pain pills the hospital sent me home with are making sure that I can’t help with what they’re doing, packing up what’s been my life for the past few years. The corporate world didn’t chew me up and spit me out; nope, that would be my female reproductive system that’s doing that all on its own.

“I’m not, but can you please not go through that drawer? I’ll pack that one and let you do the rest.” Jesus, not like I’ll actually box it up. More than likely, it’ll go in the trash along with my dreams of staying in New York, getting married, and having a few children. I should count my blessings, I know that, but right now, I’m not in that place. I’m not really sure I ever will be.

“Oh, oh, oh!” Mom finally understands what I’m saying. “Well, yeah, I guess that makes sense. I’ll just leave that one for you. I think the guys are almost done loading everything up into the U-Haul, then they’ll take off.”

“I hate that you guys are doing everything, while I can barely wipe my own ass.” I’m moving, just slowly. Showering has been a bitch, especially when I want to wash my hair. Though I guess I should enjoy having the same-colored locks as my mom for the time being, I’ve already been warned that the aggressive chemotherapy I’ll be undergoing will have hair loss as the major side effect. Even though they got the tumors out with surgery, that doesn’t mean they got all the cancer cells, too.

“Honey, you know they don’t mind. The club will help them offload it when they make it to Texas. It’s not like you have a whole lot here anyways. Before you know it, you’ll be back on your feet, and as much as I hate to admit this, if you want to move back here after you’re healed, we’ll make it work, okay?” I swear that Jackson and I hit the parent jackpot. Even if Dad isn’t my biological father, he’s the only father I’ve ever known and loved.