Illusive (Storm MC 5)
“No, not really,” I answered him honestly, still clutching my stomach and praying the nausea away.
“Where are you?”
“At the hospital.” My thoughts scrambled to make sense. I couldn’t make sense.
“Which hospital, sweetheart?”
“The Royal Brisbane.”
“Which ward?”
“I can’t remember. The one for heart attacks.”
Don’t make me answer any more questions.
I can’t do it.
“I’ll be there soon.”
And then he hung up, and I doubled over in pain.
Emotional pain hurt so much more than physical pain sometimes.
“Sophia.” My mother’s voice shifted through my consciousness. “Please don’t shut me out. I made a huge mistake all those years ago, and I want to try and make it right now.”
I spun around and glared at her. “You can’t make this right. Not now. Not ever. I spent the last twenty years waiting for you to come back. And all that time I thought that if my own mother didn’t want me, how could anyone else want me? Do you know what that does to a child? To a person?” I glared at her harder. “It fucks them up,” I spat. “And, I’m done being fucked up. I’ve moved on and so should you.”
As I turned to leave, her last words floated through the air. “I won’t give up, baby. I love you and I’ll show you that I mean it.”
Her words were worthless to me. I stalked down the hospital corridor to the lift, oblivious to everyone around me. The lift took forever to come – well, it felt like forever – and I travelled down to the ground floor in silence, alone with my thoughts. When the elevator doors opened, I stepped outside and into Griff’s arms.
And I collapsed into him in a mess of tears and sobs and hurt.
He held me and let me cry it out, his hand running gently over my hair. When my tears dried up, I wrapped my arms around his waist, and clung to him.
His body and soul were my refuge.
Eventually, I lifted my face to look at him. His concerned eyes met mine, and he said, “I’m going to take you home now. Yeah?”
I nodded.
“We’ll take your car and I’ll come back and get my bike later.”
I nodded again, and he led me towards the car park.
And then he took me home and continued to be the amazing man I was fast learning he was.
* * *
I tried to swallow, but my throat was so dry that as much as I swallowed, nothing helped. Blinking awake, I found myself secured in Griff’s hold, up against his body again. This time on my bed.
I shifted and his hold loosened enough for me to move to a sitting position. Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I moved off it to go in search of water. I made it to the kitchen, filled a glass and drank every last drop. Turning, I found Griff standing behind me, worry on his face.
“Sorry,” I apologised as I placed the glass on the counter.
“There’s no need to apologise.”
“God, what time is it?”