by Jaci J.
Fuck I wish she'd wake up. I need her. Pulling my chair closer to her bed like I do every night, I sit my ass down and take her hand in mine, rest my arms on her bed and lay my head on my arms. This is how I try to sleep when I can find it since they won't let me in her bed. Sleep hasn’t come easy, but I still get a little rest every now and then.
I’m finally starting to drift off when I hear it.
“Tank?” My mind pulls me from a groggy sleep instantly. My heart hits the floor.
“Sleeping?” I hear it again. Oh my God I have needed that voice. The voice I've heard only in my dreams. My head shoots up and I’m in a damn near panic. Her eyes are closed but she's smiling a small smile. Holy fuck.
“Lil?” My body's shaking frantically, and I can’t get it under control. Nothing. No I swear to God I heard it, heard her. Jesus Christ.
“Fuck baby. Fuck! … Damn it Lil look at me.” I'm fucking desperate. Barely hanging on. Those lips tilt into a bigger smile.
“Bossy ass.”
36
Lil
What the hell happened to me? My heads pounding to the point of exploding. My body hurts so bad. I've either been trampled by a herd of elephants, or a big ass truck hit me. I haven't been to Africa and don't remember playing in the road. Christ what's going on? My body feels wrong. I can feel pain, but it's distant. Trying to open my eyes I give up when they start to feel like hundred pound weights. Moving my hand I feel a hand on mine.
“Tank?” Shit my throat feels dry. It's tight and scratchy.
It has to be Tank. It's rough and warm, just like his. The hand moves and I’m hoping like hell that hand belongs to Tank. He doesn't say anything. Maybe he's sleeping.
“Sleeping?” I try again and there's more movement.
“Lil?” My heart flutters. Oh thank God, it is Tank. His deep rough voice is music to my ears. I swear I love that deep gruff voice. Besides sending my body into a frenzy it also makes me smile.
“Fuck baby. Fuck! … Damn it Lil look at me.” Now there's the angry Tank. I like that Tank too. Hell, I love my multiple personality Tank.
“Bossy ass.” I tell him, because damn he is. For a few moments there's silence. Then I hear a shuddered breath and a sniffle.
Is he crying?
Why on earth would Tank be crying? Giving myself a mental pep talk, I try for the eyes again. It's not easy, but they crack open. Muted light hits me first, then Tank's heartbroken face materializes in front of me.
“Fuck baby. God I've fuckin' missed you,” he rasps, voice thick with emotion.
“Are you okay?” I ask him. I don't understand what's wrong. Is he hurt? For a brief second he closes his eyes looking pained. Opening them he smiles a sad smile at me. “Baby, yeah.” Bringing my hand up to his lips, he kisses my knuckles.
“I love you Lilly.” My eyes catch the tubes, needles, and bandages. Oh God. It hits me in a flood. Eyes to Tank. He's alive. I'm alive. My family?
“Are they ...” Shaking his head he smiles that sad smile again.
“Everyone's good angel.” My heart settles. Closing my eyes I smile. I'm alive.
************
I’ve spent two weeks in this hospital room. One of those I was out cold, but this last one I've been awake. It has not been great and I really just want to go home. This icky sterile blue and white hospital room makes me long for Tanks room. I want to crawl into Tanks bed, pull him with me, and sleep for a lifetime. I can't sit here any longer. I feel good mentally, still really sore, but really it's nothing I can't handle.
“Sis, you can't just get up,” Gin grumbles from beside my bed. Glaring at him, I throw my blanket back. I'm not staying in this bed one more boring ass second.
“Gettin' up. Get outta my way.” Grumbling Gin moves aside. He doesn't look happy about doing it, but he does it.
“Shot three Goddamn times n' you're still a pain in my damn ass.” Smacking at his shoulders I move to the edge of the bed. Tank's standing at the foot of the bed leaning against the wall, arms crossed across his chest and that smirk on his lips.
“Babe, get back in bed,” he chuckles softly. Shooting him a glare too, I put my feet on the floor. Burr I should have slipped socks on.
“Shut up!” Throwing his head back he laughs,
“I fuckin' love you.” His eyes soft and caring. He's been saying that a lot this past week. He says it every chance he gets and says it for no reason at all. He says it like I'm about to vanish into thin air. He even said it when I was yelling at everyone. Along with telling me he loves me, he keeps apologizing. I never needed one. His love is all I need. It's all I want. I'm over all that shit and I just want to move on with him and this second chance at life that I’ve been given. I've forgotten all about the shit he said to me, because deep down, I know how he really feels.
“Love you too. Now help me outta this bed,” I tell him holding my hand out to him. Those strong hard features soften as he walks over, taking my hand and pulls me up. An arm resting gently around my lower back, the other holding my hand.
“You okay?” Nodding I bury my face in his chest. He smells just like I remember. Tank, leather, smoke, and man. Breathing deeply I sigh. My favorite spot.
“You wanted up so you could smell me babe?” Yes. I'd walk through hell just to be able to bury my face in his chest.
“Yep.” Gin snorts a laugh.
“Still a fuckin' nerd.” Maybe so, but Tank is my favorite smell. I love it, just like I love everything else about him.
Four days later they released me. I've spent the afternoon at the club letting everyone wait on me and tell me how much they love me and how happy they are that I'm okay. Everyone needed that reassurance. Seeing the love and worry my family has for me, makes me appreciate them that much more. It was good to see everyone, but to be honest all I wanted to do was go to Tanks and crawl into bed. Tank hasn't left my sight since I woke up. Sitting on the couch, he's a few feet away talking with Sargent.
“Tank?” I'm tired and ready to go. Turning around he's on me before I blink.
“Babe?” Scooting closer to me he looks me over. Always looking for something wrong. Pulling him close I talk quietly.
“Can you take me home? I'm tired.” Leaning forward he takes my face in his hands. Kissing my forehead he smiles.
“Baby, yeah.” Saying my goodbyes and getting out the door was a thing all on its own. Took an hour, but finally I was able to get out of there.
Driving down the road Tank turns his blinker on.
“No not my dad's place.” I watch his face slowly turn towards mine. An eyebrow cocked in question.
“Said home babe?” I did and I meant home. Through this whole thing, all I wanted was Tank's home. Wanted his bed. His arms.
“I did.” That happy face is now etched with a scowl. Here comes bossy.
“Swear to God Lil, you mean Seattle I'm gonna ...” Holding up my hand I smile reassuringly. He's worried about me leaving.
“No babe, your place. That’s home.” Out of nowhere, he veers off of the road. I all but fall over in my seat as he skids to a stop. His face is looking forward, eyes on the road ahead and his hands are gripping the steering wheel with a white knuckled grip. My heart thuds into my ribs as doubt starts to consume me. Maybe he doesn't want me to move in any more. Tank's is the only place I've wanted to be. I don't think I can be at my dad's right now. The club is too busy and loud, and I definitely don't want to go home to Seattle alone.
A small trickle of panic sends a chill over my body. Where am I going to go? Fear of losing Tank weighs heavy in my heart and I fight the tears.
“If … I mean I don't … well I don't have to go to ...” Grabbing my arms, he tugs me to him. Hands wrapped up in my hair. “Shut up Lil. You come home with me, to our home, yeah.”
About the Author
I live in a small hick town right on the coast of good Ol’ Washington State, about two hours outside of Seattle. Although I live in a small town, don’t mistake my location for
my love of all things country, because I’m a city girl through and through. My heart lives in the fast paced hustle and bustle of the city. I live with or right next door to my tribe, or as most know them, my family. My lovely, but nutty mother lives right next door with my hair brained grandma. I currently reside in my nut house with my strange, but wonderful fiancé and my wild as hell little monster boy. My biker mouthed, but funny and amazing little sister lives not too far away with my adorable nephew and hick, down to his bones, brother in law. I have an enormous love for music. I love it all. My sister and I go to as many concerts as humanly possible. But my passion is reading and writing. I have a love of all things book-related. If it has words, I’ll read it. I decided one day to write because my poor brain couldn’t take any more of the massive stories I had stored away. I figured hell, I love them, maybe someone else will too. So I started writing and couldn’t stop. I still can’t stop. It’s now become an obsession. A lovely, lovely obsession.
Thank you!!
You can find me on:
Twitter, http://www.twitter.com/JaciJeanThBest
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Email, [email protected]
