Malcolm (Henchmen MC Next Generation 2)

Only, there was nothing.

I had nothing.

Except the pain.

And the unexpected kindness of a practical stranger.

I'd always been someone who was comfortable being on her own, but I'd never felt quite as alone as I did in that emergency room, confused and in pain.

I knew I should have called Shep.

But he would only feel badly about himself because he couldn't come, couldn't be of any help to me like I'd been to him.

It wasn't worth upsetting him ahead of time about the whole situation.

So I sat there alone.

I tried to remind myself that it was useless to cry.

And I refused to let myself fall into the seeming hopelessness of it all.

Not only did I feel like crap, and not only did work feel less safe, but the diner didn't offer health insurance, which meant I had none. And I'd gotten to know a thing or two about hospital bills in the past several months with my brother, so I knew a hefty bill was going to come my way.

I wouldn't have the money to pay it.

But I would need to find that money somehow.

Maybe there was something I could do on the side for some extra cash.

Personal shopping or food delivery or house cleaning. Something flexible.

Ugh.

Who was I kidding?

The only job I could get that would pay off the steadily growing bills from both Shep and myself was if I became some sort of phone sex operator or cam girl.

Which, well, that wasn't going to happen.

I was drowning in that misery when Malcolm came into the room, helping to distract me. But more so than that, just being there, easing some of the loneliness.

Then this man drove me to the pharmacy, bought me supplies I needed but couldn't afford, gave me his number, and made sure I got into my car and on my way home before he finally went back to his life.

Which left me no choice but to go back to mine.

My stomach was in knots as I made my way into the house.

It was earlier than usual, and I was debating going and getting myself cleaned up and a little rested before letting my brother in on what was happening.

But I heard him jiggling his pill bottle in his room, likely needing his sleep medicine to get through the rest of the night.

Taking a deep breath, I decided to get it over with, or I would just make myself sick over the whole thing.

I moved down the hall, knocking gently on his door.

"Shep?" I called, not wanting to freak him out since he wasn't expecting me.

"Holl? What's wrong? Why are you home?"

"Don't freak out," I demanded, reaching for the handle. "I'm okay, so don't freak out," I said again, moving inside, flicking on the light.

It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the brightness, but when they did, his face fell, his eyes bulged.

"Jesus Christ, Holl..."

"I'm okay."

"The fuck you are," he said, trying to sit up in bed.

"No, stop. Use the button," I demanded, knowing his wrist was weak, not wanting him to break it a second time.

"Don't worry about me for fuck's sake," he said, but he reached for the button as I moved closer. "What happened? Who did this to you?"

"I don't know," I said, shaking my head as I sat down on the edge of his bed. "I was taking out the trash and then someone attacked me. The next thing I know, I was waking up behind the dumpster. My regular, the one you tease me about, sat with me and came to the hospital. I'm okay, really," I assured him, trying to reach out, but my ribs screamed when I tried to stretch forward.

"Holl, Jesus," he said, reaching out toward me, putting his hand over the top of mine. "What did the doctor say?"

"It's not too bad. I have a concussion. My ribs are bruised. I have a lot of scrapes and bruises and this," I said, motioning to my eye. "But I'll be okay in a few days. Don't worry about me."

"Were you... did he..."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "No," I added in a firmer voice when he looked dubious.

"I hate that fucking job," he snapped, useless anger surging up. Useless because there was no point in being angry over a situation that couldn't be changed.

"Hey, you don't hate it so much when I bring home the curly fries at the end of the shift," I said, trying to keep it light. If he kept on with the caring big brother thing for too much longer, I was going to lose what little control I had left, and I was really trying not to break down.

"Holl, you have to quit."

"No, I don't."

"You can't go back there."

"I will be going back there," I countered.

"It's not safe."

"That's a silly assumption. People get mugged on the streets all the time, should they never go outside again? Besides, look, Malcolm gave me these," I said, going into my bag to show him the pepper spray and eye-gouger. "I really don't think I will need them, but it feels good to have them."