Piston by Andi Rhodes
Chapter Twenty-Seven
That’s how you paint the fucking world.
Piston
It finally happened.
My life caught up to me. I knew it would happen one of two ways. Either my sins would kill me or my Harley would turn on me. What I didn’t count on was both getting me at the same time.
“Fender, get out of my way. I need to see him!”
I hate that others had to die with me. That was never supposed to happen.
“Holland, listen to me,” Fender says, his tone demanding. “I’m not trying to keep you from him. But you need to calm down before I let you in the room. The doctor said he...”
Doctors? The haze in my brain clears slightly. A tingling sensation spreads through my body as feeling starts to return. I’m no longer floating on a cloud surrounded by blinding light. My surroundings morph and I’m in a hospital room. Machines are beeping, my leg is raised above the bed in a sling that hangs from the ceiling. My face stings.
I lift my hand and see the IV. So that’s why I don’t feel worse. That’s why I was floating.
“Fender,” I croak out.
Holland pushes past him and rushes to the bed. Fender walks to the opposite side.
“Hey, P,” he says. “Welcome back.”
I nod and wince against the dizziness. “Thanks.”
Holland pours water from a pitcher into a glass and holds it up to my lips to help me take a few sips.
“Better?” she asks.
“Yeah.” I turn back to Fender. “Don’t ever try to keep her away from me again.”
“Brother, I was only trying to do what—”
“Don’t.” I try to inject authority into my tone, but it’s useless. I’m too weak. “Now, will you get me the hell out of here?”
“You’re gonna be here for a while,” Holland says.
She reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear and it reveals a shaved spot and stitches.
“What the fuck happened?” I snarl.
Holland looks from me to Fender and back again. “You don’t remember?”
I shake my head. I try to remember how I ended up in the hospital, but the details are sparse.
“I remember riding like hell to get to the motel. I remember the sun blinding me.” I squeeze my eyes shut, almost as if the sun were there again. “I remember… that’s it.”
“You laid your bike down, P,” Fender says.
That makes no sense. “Why the hell would I do that?”
“Because I was in the middle of the road,” Holland says softly. “You almost killed yourself trying to protect me.”
The memories come flooding back and suddenly all the pieces fit. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
“You better not.” Holland rests a hand on my forehead. “I can’t do this again. Do you have any idea how hard it was to sit here for a week and not know if you were going to wake up?”
“A week?”
“They had you in a medically induced coma,” Fender informs me. “They wanted to be sure the brain swelling went down. After your surgery to repair the leg, you were pretty agitated. You weren’t going to rest on your own so you could heal.”
“Jesus,” I groan. “Fill me in on what I’ve missed.”
“Well, Des and Devin’s parents are dead, which is good because now you don’t need to take care of them yourself.”
“Not that I’m crushed by their death or anything but how’d they die?”
Holland recounts what they put her through, from her house to the motel to the man at the door.
“Turns out he was one of Grizzly’s men,” Fender says to pick up the story where Holland leaves off. “He recognized Holland from her picture attached to her newspaper articles. Apparently, Grizzly’s crew always carries a laced dose of whatever they’re selling, just in case. He sold Sal and Rachel the bad shit and called Grizzly as soon as he left. Grizzly told him to go back in ten minutes to make sure it worked. He got there just as you laid your bike down.”
“Holy fuck.”
“Yeah. It’s a lot to take in.”
“What about Des and Devin? What’s gonna happen to them now that their parents are gone?”
“Des is being held in a juvenile facility while he waits for a court date. He was charged with terroristic threats for the note on our gate. We hired an attorney for him.” When my eyebrows shoot up, Fender shrugs. “He’s sixteen. He clearly didn’t have any good role models. Besides, at the end of the day, he was trying to protect Devin. I respect that. We’re hoping that the prosecutors will take the circumstances into account, and at the most, keep him in juvenile lock up until he’s an adult. When that day comes, we’ll see where things stand. Maybe he can prospect for the club.” Fender heaves a sigh. “As for Devin, he was placed in a foster home. They have no family so he’ll probably be put up for adoption.”
My head spins with all the information being thrown at me. Normally I can process the bullshit and do something about it. This isn’t a ‘normally’ kind of situation.
“Now what?”
“Now you get better,” Holland snaps.
Fender chuckles and starts to back away from the bed. “I think you too need a little time alone. I’m gonna go let the guys know you’re awake. Maybe they’ll actually go home and take showers and get some rest. Lord knows the hospital staff will be fucking grateful if they do.”
He leaves the room and I stare at Holland. “I’m sorry about everything.”
“Why? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“It’s because of the Soulless Kings that you were taken. If you hadn’t gotten caught up in my world, none of this would ever have happened.”
“Maybe not,” she concedes. “But isn’t that kind of the point?”
“Huh?”
“Life isn’t black and white. Life offers no guarantees. The good stuff? That’s found in all the gray areas.”
“And I’m your gray?”
“Piston, you are all the colors.” She smiles and sits next to me on the edge of the hospital bed. “My mom was right about so much. But there’s one thing she failed to see.”
“What’s that?”
“Happiness can be found in the gray, but love? It lifts you out of the gray and drops you smack dab in the middle of the most beautifully colored world.” She kisses my forehead. “I found you in the gray. I want to live with you in full color.”
“I like that.”
“And I love you.”
“I love you too, sweet cheeks.” I mock scowl at her. “I do have a condition to this whole ‘world of color’ of yours.”
“Of course you do.” She chuckles. “What’s your condition?”
“You’re breaking your fucking lease and moving in with me.”
“I’ll do you one better,” she teases.
“Oh yeah?”
She nods and her grin turns mischievous.
“Don’t keep me in suspense here,” I tell her.
“I’ll move in with you… as your ol’ lady.”
“Ah, Holland.” I rest my head against her. “That’s how you paint the fucking world.”
