Loch: A Steel Paragons MC Novel

by Eve R. Hart

  “A duck, huh?” I did my best to raise a brow at him. I think my face was still too swollen to get the effect I was going for. He huffed out a nervous laugh and shrugged as his face turned sheepish.

  “The get well ones were boring,” he said. “And they had flowers and shit on them. I didn’t want it to take away from my manly look.” I rolled my eyes at him. He tied the balloon to the bathroom doorknob. It was directly in my line of vision. I wasn’t sure if I would love or hate that it would be the first thing I saw every time I opened my eyes. Then he pulled out a container from the bag that Nan had set on the rolling table.

  “Are you seriously going to eat that goodness right in front of me?” I asked as he popped the lid open.

  “Yeah. I got you a salad, though.” I wanted to smack him but I knew it would hurt me more than it would him.

  “I’m going to go get some air,” Nan said as she stood. “Sit.” She said to Brand. Instead of sitting he grabbed the bag, which had another container of food in it, and handed it to her. She smiled at him and said thank you.

  “Couldn’t forget about you, Misses E.” He winked at her and I swear she blushed at him. I did my best to laugh and shook my head as she made her retreat out the door. He sat slowly lowered himself down on the edge of the bed. “I used my charming ways to get the cute girl at the counter to cut it up for me.”

  He lifted a bitesize piece of burger up to show me. I could just picture how it went down. Him giving her his pretty boy smile. His head tilted down and his big eyes looking up through his long and thick lashes at her. I imagined she had to resist the urge to fan herself and couldn’t even form words to his request.

  I took the burger with my fingers and popped it into my mouth. Everything hurt so much that I was half tempted to let him feed me. But I wanted to be a big girl and do it on my own. It wasn’t going to get any easier. He situated the food on my lap for easy access for me.

  I studied him while I chewed. Even though he was smiling and talking, I could see he was tired. I wondered if he had even gotten any sleep while I was out. His face had a dusting of stubble. At least he didn’t smell bad, unlike me. We chatted about nothing important as I ate. There was too much food for me to eat and I made him finish it. After we were done, he cleaned up the trash.

  “So when are they springing ya?” he asked, wiping his hands on his pants.

  “Tomorrow, if all goes well.”

  “Alright. I’ll be back then.” He leaned over and his lips brushed my forehead in a sweet kiss. “Get some rest. Call me if you need me.” I nodded.

  He waved then headed out the door. Part of me wished he had stayed longer, but I could feel my eyes growing heavy. I barely heard Nan come back in the room before I dozed back off.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Loch

  I fell back onto the rickety wooden stool as I wiped the blood off of my face with the back of my hand. I stared at Lance’s nearly lifeless form dangling by his hands from the rafters. The basement was dark, save for the one bare bulb dangling from the ceiling. His head sagged against his chest. His skin was pale and splattered with his own blood. If I didn’t see the slight rise and fall of his chest I would have sworn he was dead.

  I had been down there for nearly two days straight. The first day, I decided to leave him be. I let him hang there in the pitch black basement, thinking about how it would end for him. I wanted to suffer in his head before I started the real torture. It was hard to know he was a floor under me. That he was still breathing. But I needed to drag the whole thing out as long as possible. Plus, I needed the time to find my calm.

  I’d left Reagan in the early hours of morning still unconscious lying in the hospital bed. That was almost three days ago. I hadn’t been back. I couldn’t. I didn’t want to see the disappointment and hurt in her eyes. The last thing she needed was to wake up and see me, the man who let her down and let this happen to her, staring back at her.

  Maybe I was a coward. But I only wanted to do what was best for her. The whole reason I had been down here that long was that I felt Lance deserved a slow and torturous end. I was drawing his death out because I was pissed off. But above everything else, I was doing it for her. He would meet his end soon, and she wouldn’t have to worry that anything like this would happen to her ever again. I knew things weren’t that simple. I knew killing Lance wouldn’t be the magic cure-all to recovery. I had a good idea that she was going to be looking over her shoulder and jumping at every odd sound for a while. But I needed some hope, and that was what his death would be for me. Hope that the world would be a better place for her.

  The sound of heavy boots coming down the concrete stairs caught my attention. Pulling myself out of the dark thoughts in my head, I looked over to see which one of my brothers dared to bother me. Brand walked into view as he hit the last step. He looked as tired as I felt. But this wasn’t over yet. His eyes flickered to Lance’s hanging body and turned dark as coal. His jaw ticked as he walked over. Stopping a few feet off to the side, he planted his feet wide as he crossed his arms over his chest.

  “She’s awake,” he said, his voice as dark as his eyes. He didn’t take his eyes off of Lance as he spoke.

  I nodded, feeling torn. I hated that I wasn’t there with her. I hated the man I had become. I hated the man hanging in front of me. But I believed I was where she needed me to be. There were too many questions I wanted to ask Brand. I needed to know how she was. I was desperate to know everything. But I held my tongue.

  “She laughed,” Brand said after a moment of silence. I cut my eyes over at him. Had he gone to see her? Of course, he had. I couldn’t think of a single thing that would keep him from going to her as soon as he knew. Something dug at me in the back of my head and a dull ache filled my heart. “This didn’t break her.” He pinned me with a hard look and I wondered if he was trying to tell me more.

  I swallowed hard. Brand’s eyes seemed to be screaming at me what an asshole I was for not being there with her. But it was done and I couldn’t take back. So I said nothing in response. My silence only seemed to spur his anger.

  “Time to wake up, fucker,” he said in a tone that was so calm it was scary. He walked up to Lance with slow, heavy steps. He slapped Lance’s face just enough to make him stir. A low groan escaped his bloodied lips.

  Lance’s eye cracked open as he tried to lift his head. I sat back and watched. Brand had anger to get out and I sure as fuck wasn’t going to stop him.

  I sat there and watched as Brand work over Lance’s body like a heavy bag for a good twenty minutes. Hell, it could have been longer. Time seemed to be nonexistent in this death dungeon. When his bare knuckles were raw and split open, he stopped. He grabbed the back of Lance’s head and pulled it back so he was looking into Brand’s eyes. By this time they were swollen shut to the point that there was only a sliver of one that opened. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth and I wondered if he was starting to bleed internally. This wouldn’t last much longer.

  “Did you hear that, fucker?” Brand’s voice had a dark, humorous edge to it. It almost made me flinch. Almost. If I hadn’t seen the shit that I had my whole life, it would have. Brand’s face was a breath away from Lance’s. “You didn’t break her.” With that he let Lance’s head drop back down and walked off and out of the basement, leaving me in silence again.

  I sat there for a while, watching Lance’s limp body swing back and forth. I knew his shoulders were dislocated. The skin was long gone from his wrists where they were bound. Somehow, it still wasn’t enough. I took a deep breath in knowing this was it. It was the end. He had no more screams to give. He had nothing left to say. Not that I gave a fuck to hear it anyway.

  Diesel, Cal, Bocca, Axe, and Tank came down the stairs not long after Brand left. I was still on the stool clenching the knife tight. They circled around me and I stood up.

  “Call Mr. Clean,” I said to no one in particular. “Rot in hell,” I whispered into Lance’s ear. I pulled my gun out an
d pressed it into his forehead, pushing his head back so that my face was that last thing he would see. I pulled the trigger without hesitation, staring into the slit of his eye the whole time.

  I dropped the gun to the floor and walked out of the basement without so much as a glance back. The clang of the metal hitting the hard concrete echoed off the bare walls. The sound made the whole thing feel ominous and final.

  I went to my room and stripped out of my clothes, making sure to double wrap them in garbage bags. I washed all the blood and guts off, watching as the water turned from red to pink to clear.

  It was done. But it felt far from over.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Reagan

  “Let’s get you outta this joint, Snow White.” Brand’s voice filled the room as he pushed open the door to my hospital room and strolled in. He was wearing a smile but there was something different in his eyes. I couldn’t tell exactly what, but he seemed a little darker. Less the happy, shy guy I was used to. I shook off the strange feeling that something was wrong. I shot him a grumpy glare, to which he threw his head back and laughed at.

  “Don’t you mean Fiona?” I deadpanned.

  “Like the ogre?” His face screwed up. “No. Not even close. Your ears are nicely human shaped.” Okay, that was funny. I laughed and shook my head, then abruptly stopped because it hurt to do.

  I was so sick of looking at those bland hospital walls. Earlier in the day, they unhooked my IV and I was able to get up and move around a little. I still didn’t have enough energy to take a shower, though. I did manage to get dressed with the help of Nan. The doctor came in hours ago and went over all the aftercare shit. The damn nurse showed up twenty minutes ago with my discharge papers. I wondered what the hell took so long. I was ready to run from this place like a gazelle sprinting from a lion.

  Brand tried to help me into the wheelchair. He held up his hands in surrender when I threatened to bite him. I may have taken me close to five minutes to get into the thing, but I did it by myself. Nan had all my stuff packed up and we all left together with a nurse pushing me.

  I wasn’t surprised to see that car that Nate had bought me out front. I sighed on the inside wishing he was the one driving it. But it sat there, empty, like my heart was starting to feel. Brand opened the back door as Nan slipped into the front passenger’s side. I was tired again and gave up the fight when he tried to help me into the car. I felt like a useless blob as he pulled me into his arms and chest. He was a good sport and didn’t even laugh at me as he lowered me down and buckled me in.

  Brand drove all the way back to Nan’s house. The drive was quiet. I spent most of the time with my head pressed against the window. The featureless landscape went by in a blur. I could feel Brand’s eyes on me in the rearview mirror from time to time, but I ignored him.

  We pulled up to the house and I couldn’t even bring myself to look at the front door. I started to feel anxious at the thought of even going back in there. I would have to walk up those same stairs where it happened. I would have to go into my room where it all started. Before I knew it, silent tears were streaming down my face. Brand and Nan were talking to each other, but I could feel their eyes on me. I heard Brand tell her to go ahead in. I sensed her hesitation before she got out.

  I closed my eyes hoping it would stop the flashbacks, but it only made them more vivid. Before I knew it, warm arms wrapped around my shoulders. I crashed into Brand’s chest and he held me with a tenderness I knew was because of how mangled I was. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t tell me it would be okay. He simply held me and let me cry.

  “I can take you somewhere else if you want,” he said after awhile. I shook my head against his chest.

  “I don’t have anywhere to go. This is my home.” The thing was, it may not have really been my home, but it was the closest place that had ever felt like one. My sadness turned to anger. I was angry that he had taken that feeling and security away.

  “I’ll find you a place. Just tell me what you want to do.” There was a softness to his voice that I had never heard before. I took in a deep breath, hoping it would make me brave. Then I sat up as straight as I could and looked at him.

  “I can do this. I won’t let what he did ruin this, too,” I said. He gave me a nod of understanding and helped me out of the car.

  I made it into the house. I stood there frozen at the bottom of the stairs to the second floor. Brand had one arm wrapped around my waist and the other holding my hand to steady me.

  The place was made up like it had never happened. I knew this was the guys doing— more specifically, Nate’s. Just another reminder that he wasn’t here. There was no blood on the walls or carpet. But I felt like I could still see it there in my mind. My legs trembled and I could no longer hold myself up. Brand caught me and before I knew it, he had carried me up to my room and set me on the bed. He covered me with the extra blanket at the foot of the bed before he turned to leave.

  “Stay,” I whispered. I didn’t want to be alone. His body froze in the doorway for a second. With a nod, he turned around and settled himself in the chair in the corner of the room. He kicked off his boots and propped his feet up on the bed as he slunk down and rested his head on the back of the chair.

  “Sleep, Aurora,” he said as he tucked his hands under his armpits and closed his eyes.

  The fact that he knew Sleeping Beauty’s name wasn’t lost on me. If my mind hadn’t been in such a messed up state, I might have made fun of him. Instead, I closed my eyes and focused on the sound of his even breathing. How he could fall asleep that fast in that chair was beyond me. After a while the soothing noise made me drift off.

  I was jolted awake by a strange ringing noise. I opened my eyes to see Brand pulling out of his slumber to answer his phone. His head still leaned back and his eyes closed. His voice was rough and groggy from sleep as he mumbled a hello. I got nothing from the one-sided conversation. He kept saying ‘yeah’ and ‘okay’ over and over again until he ended the call not even a minute later. It was then that I noticed his hands. His knuckles were all torn up, bloody, and swollen. I could see the deep bruising under the raw skin. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he scrubbed his hands over his face.

  “Brand?” My voice was high and full of worry. He split his fingers and peeked out at me through the openings. When he saw my face he sat up straight. “What happened?” I reached out and my fingers brushed against the back of his hand. His eyes closed as he let out a long, heavy sigh.

  “Nothing for you to worry yourself with, Reagan,” he said soft but firm. A slight warning hung in the air around his words. I shifted with slow, hesitant movements until I was sitting up, my body screaming at me with every move.

  “Brand…”

  “It’s done, Reagan. You’ll never have to worry about him again.” I could tell he didn’t want to tell me, but he also didn’t want to lie to me. I saw at that moment he was torn between his loyalty to the club and our friendship. I swallowed hard and then nodded. I wanted to ask more but I wasn’t going to push him. “I gotta go. You going to be alright for a bit?”

  “Yeah,” I croaked out. He stood up, placed a light kiss at the top of my head, then walked to the door.

  “Brand,” I said one more time. He turned his head to look over his shoulder but his eyes didn’t meet mine. “Thank you.”

  Tears ran down my face. I didn’t know the details of what had happened, but I knew the outcome. I had no doubt he suffered through until his last breath. I felt like for the first time in a long time, I could start to breathe again.

  “Not the one you should be thanking.” With his lips pressed into a tight line, he gave me a firm nod. And then he was gone.

  The next two weeks I sat at home letting my body heal. Brand and Bocca each drove me to one of my two doctor’s appointments. One was to check out my nose and face. I was lucky my nose was the only thing that had been broken. Everything else other than my shoulder was minor. The other ap
pointment was to determine how my shoulder was healing. The doctor tried to explain that it was a tiny slip or tear or something. I tried my best to listen, but I kept zoning out. I guessed by his tone that I was lucky. It was healing well and I would be able to go sling free from now on. He recommended that I limit my use and put this weird tape bandage thing on it at night. Bocca was there and, luckily, he paid attention to how it was supposed to be put on. He offered to come help me out whenever I needed. He made that offer with a wink, of course.

  Nate had pretty much made himself scarce. The only time I saw him was when he cut the grass. I would spend the whole time in my room sitting by the window watching him. I felt like a creeper. I was hurt by the distance. Each time I watched him, even for a short time, made me realize how much I missed him. How much my body craved his touch and how much I longed to hear his voice.

  A few times I saw him look up towards the back door. It made my heart flutter the tiniest amount. I wondered if he was waiting or hoping for me to come out with the excuse of bringing him a cold drink. But I didn’t. I stayed hidden, believing that if he ached to see me, then he would. All he had to do was knock and that very door he kept looking at. I started to give into the idea that our talk was never going to happen. That he didn’t want me to be part of his life anymore. Which cut me like a knife to the core.

  I curled up on my bed feeling alone and unwanted. I felt tainted and dirty. The kind of filth you couldn’t wash off in the shower. Every day it became harder for me to breathe. And every day the vivid visions of what happened replayed more in my head.

  The only reason I was able to sleep at first was that the pain medication they gave me made me drowsy. I hated taking it but I hated being awake more. I had taken the last one days ago and even though I spent most of my time in bed, sleep never came to me. Chris and Brand had both tried multiple times to get me to come out of my room. I only left to go to the bathroom. Nan brought me food after she gave up on me coming down to get it. Most of the time it sat there uneaten. It was the same as before, but this time the nightmare was much worse.