Taken by a Monster (In the Arms of Monsters 2)

“I’m looking.”

“You see the bruises? The casts? Do they not mean anything to you? She’s been through a lot, so no, I wouldn’t call you. Not when the only important person in your life is yourself!”

He was done with this. Bishop annoyed him, pissed him off. Getting to his feet, he was about to throw the little prick out, but Randall chose that moment to enter.

“How are you today, gentlemen?” Randall asked. He walked up to the bottom of Robin’s bed, clipboard in hand, and began to make some notes.

“We’re fine,” he said, taking a seat again. He wasn’t here to give his son an ass whooping. He’d come to relieve Bear so he could get a shower and some food.

They were all taking turns. In a couple of hours, Grave would be by. Bishop, with his complete lack of regard to his authority and the club, wouldn’t be allowed to be alone with her. He didn’t care how much it pissed him off. Preacher’s word was law.

Picking up his book, he ignored Bishop when he left and returned minutes later, holding a chair. He sat down, and Preacher continued to read his book, waiting.

Of course, it didn’t matter how long his son and Robin had been friends or even what he’d been doing. The only thing that mattered to him right now was taking care of his woman. It had been two years since he’d last seen Robin, but she was still and would always be his woman. He loved her more than anything in the world and always would.

Running a hand down his face, he tried not to think of the loneliness and fear that had consumed him in the last couple of years. All he could think about was Robin. He’d made some tough choices for the club in order to call in as many favors as he could, but that was all over now. He only needed to focus on Robin getting better.

“I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” Randall said, leaving him and his son alone.

The minutes ticked by. The only sound to fill the room was that of the machine beeping, letting him know she was alive and would continue breathing. He didn’t want to imagine a world without her.

“You could have at least sent me a text.”

“Really, what would that do?” Preacher asked. “You rarely answer your texts. You do your own thing now, Bishop. What more could you possibly expect from me?”

“I don’t know. Something. Anything. I don’t want to lose her.”

“You haven’t lost her. Not yet,” Preacher said. “She’s right there.”

“But what if she doesn’t wake up?”

“You know, I’m growing tired of your negativity. She will wake up and when she does, we’ll know the kind of hell she’s been through.” Preacher stayed seated as Bishop got up.

“I can’t watch her like this.”

“I didn’t tell you to.”

“I’m out of here.”

Once again, he watched as Bishop left.

“I don’t know what to say about him, sweetheart. He claims to love you but spends a great deal of time walking away or thinking of the worst when it comes to you.” He didn’t touch her but placed his arm close to hers, not wanting to let her go, just be near her.

A few hours later, that was where Grave found him when he came to take over.

“Keep an eye on her. Don’t let any nurse or someone pretty distract you.”

“I won’t.”

Preacher left the hospital, drove home, and took a quick shower. He didn’t bother making himself a cooked meal and settled on a quickly thrown together sandwich. Before leaving the house once again, he made his way upstairs to Robin’s old room.

Nothing had changed.

Before Bishop had left home, Preacher had caught him once, trying to clean up the room as if she’d left and wasn’t coming back. It had pissed him off to the point he attacked his son and ordered him to put everything back in the right and appropriate places.

This was his home, not Bishop’s, and Robin’s stuff stayed. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he noticed that the scent of her had long faded but her stuff was still there. One of her English books was on the counter, open at the last page she’d been reading.

Some of her notebooks were spilling out of her backpack, and he didn’t have the heart to move them. He didn’t have the heart to move any of it. She belonged here. This was her home and he missed her so fucking much.

With Robin back in his life, when she did finally wake up, he’d bring her here. “You’ll be back soon.”

After getting to his feet, he walked toward the nursery. Opening the door, he stared into the room. Again, he hadn’t changed anything. The picture of the tree she’d asked him to draw was on one side of the wall. She’d loved his design.