Dark Destiny by Avelyn Paige

Delilah

Beeps and murmuringbreak the silence in my ears as the darkness finally lifts. My eyelids feel as if they weigh ten thousand pounds as I try to open them. It takes a few tries, but finally, I pry them apart, but everything is blurry.

With a great amount of effort, I lift my trembling hand up to my face and wince in pain as my fingertips graze along my swollen cheeks. And then I touch upon the thick padding of a collar around my neck.

Did he break my neck?

Oh, God. Chad—he’d done this. And Buddy. Poor, poor Buddy. What had happened to him?

My chest heaves, and the entire world spins around me as I try to push myself up into a sitting position. Alarms blare from behind me, and two people come running into my room.

“Breathe in as slowly, deeply, and gently as you can through your nose,” a nurse to my left instructs me. Taking my hand, she holds my gaze as she breathes along with me.

“What’s…happening?” I force out between labored breaths.

“Push another 2 milligrams of diazepam,” a man in a white coat orders from the other side of me.

The nurse releases my hand and rushes out of the room.

“Miss Walker, I’m Dr. Fulbright. Do you know where you are?”

“No.” God, my throat hurts so bad. “What’s… happening… to me?”

“The ambulance brought you to St. David’s.” He presses his fingers against my wrist. “You’re having a panic attack. I need you to do what the nurse showed you. In and out. Focus on your breathing.”

I try to do what they want me to do, but it hurts so much. I feel as if I’m sucking in air that’s going nowhere. The nurse returns and pushes a needle into an IV bag hanging on a stand next to me.

“You may feel a little dizzy when the medication takes effect.”

It takes only a few seconds before a warm feeling washes over me. My body feels light after a few minutes, like I could fly away if I weren’t lying on the bed, but my breathing slows back down. The doctor monitors my vitals and my breathing until the beeping stops.

“Do you know what happened?”

“Attacked.”

“That’s right. You’re going to see a bright light, but I need you to keep your eyes open.” Pulling a penlight from his pocket, he shines it into my eyes. Easier said than done for me, with the marching band practicing in my head. I flinch, recoiling in pain.

“Reflexes look normal,” he mutters to himself. “We’re going to run some tests to make sure you haven’t sustained fractures on your neck. Let’s do a chest X-ray, head CT, and a full blood workup. I’ll be back to check on you shortly.”

He disappears through the open door, and the nurse types away at the computer next to me. I close my eyes, focusing on my breathing, and send up a prayer to the big guy in the sky, thanking him for making it possible to still be here.

“Water?”

She hands me a paper cup from the tray and helps me maneuver it over the collar around my neck. The cool liquid feels so good as I drink it down.

When I finish, I hand her back the cup. “Thank you.”

“I’ll be right back, Miss Walker.” Pulling up an attached remote on the bed next to me, she shows me the emergency call button. “If you need anything, or start having issues with your breathing, I want you to hit this button right here.” She turns to leave, and for the first time, I’m alone with only the sounds of the machines and the normal white noise of an emergency room.

Closing my eyes, I concentrate on my breathing. In. Out. In. Out.

Loud, heavy footsteps approach the door.

“Sir, you can’t go in there,” a feminine voice scolds from the other side.

“I’m family.” A man steps into the room, his large frame filling the doorway. He’s an older man with a graying beard, but I don’t recognize him. My hand slips down to the emergency call button when he takes three long strides and stops at my bedside.

“StoneFace sent me. Couldn’t come himself, but asked me to check on you.”

“Who are you?”

“Judge. His club president and friend.”

“Club?”

He wipes his large hand across his face. “He’s a member of my motorcycle club.” He points to a black and white patch on his shoulder with the word “President” in bold, heavy script on the leather vest he’s wearing. The man takes note of my confusion. “Didn’t he tell you?”

I shake my head.

“Figures that big bastard didn’t mention it. Guess you two have some things to talk about when he gets out.”

“Gets out?” Has something changed? I thought it was just a hearing.

“Only a matter of time.” He looks at me before smiling. “You must be something special for him to ask me to check on you. Didn’t even know he had a girl until he called. All I knew is he asked for you to be a character witness for his case.”

He called me his girl. While a part of me melts at hearing someone say that out loud, we hadn’t really made anything official yet. But clearly, he had done that on my behalf.

“I need you to tell me everything that happened, darling. Your man is going crazy in that jail.”

I hesitate to open up to a stranger. I don’t know this guy from Adam, but Rhett wouldn’t have sent me someone he didn’t trust.

“I get it. You don’t have a fucking clue who I am. I wouldn’t want to talk to me, either, but Rhett wanted me to pass along a message. Something about bows, and Flower Child.” Cocking his brow, he gives me a cheeky smirk. “Y’all into some weird shit?”

I crack my first smile. I start to answer, swallowing to moisten my throat again. “No. He calls me Flower Child. The bows are about Penelope.” Everything comes out like a whisper, but it hurts less this time.

“The fuck is that?”

“His dog.”

“He got a dog? Shit, he and I apparently need to talk too.” He lets out a belly laugh. “Knew the guy was weird, but if the last couple weeks have taught me anything, it’s that the big guy has some layers. Who goes to jail and gets a pet?”

I giggle, but damn, if it hurts. I pull my hands up to my chest, trying to soften the blow.

“I was attacked, in the outside kennels,” I start. “I don’t know what happened to the guard, but one of the inmates got me alone. He was going to…” I take a moment to get my bearings. “I tried to fight back, but I couldn’t.”

Judge reaches out his big hand and takes hold of mine.

“I thought he was going to kill me. If it weren’t for Buddy… God, poor Buddy. He saved me. We need to help him.” I squeeze his hand hard, the tears flowing freely down my face.

He had to have some kind of connection to help him. I don’t know much about motorcycle clubs, but the way Rhett walked around the jail like the king of the world, and the closet… Well, he has to know someone who can help me.

“Already ahead of you, darling. Buddy’s going to be just fine.”

His reassurance soothes, yet terrifies me at the same time. How can he make such a grand statement with so much confidence? Just how connected is their club? “How can you guarantee that?”

“Trust me. Buddy will want for nothing while he’s on the inside. He took care of you, and we’ll take care of him. Just glad he killed that bastard.”

“Is Chad dead?” I whisper, like it’s a secret. “Like, really dead?”

“As a fucking doornail.”

“Rhett wanted… He was going to…” I start to tell him before the nurse returns. She takes one hard look at Judge and scowls.

“Who’s this?”

“Uncle,” he informs her.

She eyes him even more cautiously, like she’s trying to figure out if he’s lying or not. Apparently coming to a decision, she walks over and hands me two large pills in a paper cup. “Pain meds.”

I release Judge’s hand to take it from her and tip it back carefully. She hands me back the water cup, and I take a few sips before passing it back.

“Imaging should be here shortly,” she informs me, all while watching Judge as she leaves the room.

“You don’t need to worry about that shit, darling. Everything will be taken care of. Now, you get some rest. I’m going to go give your man an update before he tries to break down the doors of the jail. I’ll be back in a bit.”

He heads out of the room, leaving me with calming reassurance, but I have so many more questions. Rhett and I really need to talk.