TWENTY
Glancing around the dingy apartment, the early morning light doing little to soften its rough edges, Eden tugged on a fresh pair of disposable gloves as she knelt by her latest patient's side, exchanging a glance with her grim-faced partner Desi Shah.
"Mia? I'm Eden, I'm a paramedic – can you tell me what happened to you?" she tried, her tone gentle, but firm. She didn't expect an answer though, knowing they were usually in short supply in cases like this. Honest ones at least. Experience had taught her that. "Can you tell me where you have pain?"
The face didn't need pointing out. The bruising was vicious, extensive; the nose clearly broken, but perhaps the cheekbone and eye socket as well. Blood still seeped from a gash to the forehead, while more crusted on those otherwise pale lips and stained the front of the baggy sweater that had already seen better days. More bruises snaked around the girl's throat, tell-tale fingers marks a good indicator of how they had gotten there.
Despite her concerns, Eden could sense they were on shaky ground, even if she tried to ignore the hostile glare of those mistrustful eyes trained on her. Every fibre of their reluctant patient's being suggested she might take flight at any moment – if her injuries allowed for it.
For now though, skinny arms wrapped around herself, the girl only tried to shrink further into herself as she huddled on the floor in the corner of the room, but she couldn't hold back a pained gasp. Broken ribs, Eden guessed. Maybe something worse.
"Mia, how far along are you?" the paramedic tried again, forcing herself to stay calm in a desperate bid to build some kind of rapport. "We just want to help, Mia – make sure you and the baby are safe."
"You'll take him a-away," came the harsh response, barely louder than a whisper.
At first, Eden thought she meant the baby. Then she heard the whimper from the next room and knew from Desi's soft curse that he had heard it too. "Go," she told him, sparing only a glance to watch him scramble to his feet before turning her attention back to the pitiful sight in front of her. "Mia, you can't stay here. Not like this," she said.
"But w-where else would I go?"
Under the jet of steaming hot water, she braced her hands against the wall and stood with her head down, letting it soak into her hair and ease her weary muscles. Sometimes it felt like everything about the job was almost unbearably hard. All the times you were too late, sometimes by mere minutes. Sometimes by years.
Losing patients was tough, but the lost causes were almost worse.
What chance did Mia ever have when she'd been in and out of the care system her whole life? Barely nineteen now and trapped in an abusive relationship she didn't even recognise as such, not even when she was broken and bloodied on the kitchen floor. Her usually wide blue eyes had looked back at them from the face of the whimpering little boy Desi had found in the bedroom with a soiled diaper and a partially dislocated shoulder, even while her own were forced almost closed by swelling. And still she wanted to stay. What hope then for the baby in her too-small belly, probably already jonesing for another fix just like its mother?
Eden slapped the flat of her hand against the shower wall at that, furious at how powerless they all were in the face of such blind and misplaced devotion. Hot tears escaped from beneath her lashes and she scrubbed them away with her arm, before tilting her face into the spray. She knew that falling apart over every patient wasn't an option, not if you wanted to keep your own sanity. And Christ knows hers had been tested enough.
She also knew she was going to end up drying off, getting dressed, and heading to the ER for an update. Telling herself she shouldn't, even as she sat wrapped in a towel on one of the locker room benches, was futile. Although she did stop to check the time on her phone, seeing just how early it still was. Even so, she then found herself making a call almost before thinking about it.
"Everythin' okay, baby?" came the response, after just a few rings despite the familiar burr being clearly thickened by the fog of sleep.
"Sorry it's so early," she sighed, only then really realising what she'd done. "Shit, it's so early. I just … I guess I just needed to hear your voice. Sorry-"
"Rough night, darlin'?" Chibs asked down the phone line, sympathy and concern tangled up in even those few words, as he seemed to stifle a yawn and she pictured him stretching out in his bed at the clubhouse.
"I'm okay," Eden managed softly, reaching for her comb to start working it through her wet hair. "Or I will be."
"Pick you up after your shift?"
The ghost of a smile crossed her face at the thought of being wrapped around him on the back of his bike and she found herself nodding. "Yes, please."
"Anything for you, love," the biker replied, allowing her to practically see the little grin warming his voice. "I'll be waiting."
"I'll be there."
"Someone didn't learn anything from what happened to Doctor Knowles …"
The wry muttering reached Eden's ears even as she visibly brightened to see Chibs leaning against his bike outside the hospital after her shift, smoking in the early morning light. She'd still been pulling on her leather jacket as she hurried out of the hospital, and she faltered in her tracks, before forcing herself to shake it off rather than give the group of gossiping nurses the satisfaction of seeing her react. Besides, after her long and intense night shift, she was only too glad to see the biker's warm smile and she couldn't bring herself to care for too long what anyone else thought.
"Hey," she greeted him, enjoying the little flutter of butterflies in her stomach at the easy, familiar way in which he caught her hand in his and tugged her close for a soft kiss, her free arm settling around his shoulders. "I feel bad dragging you up at this time."
"Been hauled outta bed earlier for much less pleasant reasons, darlin'," he said, raising an eyebrow as he took in the little huddle of women not so subtly scrutinising them, nudging each other and whispering. "What's wi' the coven and the dirty looks?"
"Ignore them," Eden sighed. "I do."
"Hang on a minute," Chibs frowned. "What's to ignore? They giving you grief?"
"No, not really. I guess … I guess they just think I should have taken Tara as more of a … cautionary tale," she said, reluctant to bring up the details.
The president gritted his teeth at that. "Fuck me. What happened to Tara … I ain't even got the words for it. But using that as something to get at you? That's pretty fucking low. Wait here."
"What?" Eden's eyes widened in alarm. "Filip, don't …"
But he was already strolling over to the group of nurses, taking off his sunglasses and tucking them into the open neck of his shirt. "Ladies," he smiled tightly, nervousness already creeping into them in the face of his unexpected approach. "Word to the wise – speaking ill o' the dead? No good can come o' it."
"We weren't!" came a snapped response from the boldest of the trio, even as the other two looked as if they were hoping the ground might open and swallow them whole.
"Chattin' shite about what happened to Tara Knowles, something you know fuck all about? I beg to differ. That lass was family to me. Her wedding, her funeral – I was there. Don't recall seeing one o' you."
Sullen silence. He hadn't expected anything else, staring coldly round at them until he turned on his heel to go.
"Oh, one more thing. Keep my old lady's name and her business outta your flaming mouths, if you know what's good for you. Enjoy your day."
Having overheard everything, Eden shook her head as he joined her again, climbing on his Harley like nothing had happened. "Filip …"
"Eden …" he simply echoed, leaving her staring at him as he handed her his helmet. "Get on the bike."
She saw no point in arguing, doing as she was told and wrapping her arms around him. She could only assume he'd send the prospects to pick up her car later, but right then, she just wanted to get away from the baleful glares of the women he'd confronted.
"So I'm your old lady now?"
The questioning words were all but swallowed up when he let the engine roar into life, so he could claim he hadn't heard them. For now. But it wasn't a conversation he could put off forever, or even for long. Not when there was more at stake than putting a few mouthy bitches in their places.
Much more.
"You pissed off wi' me, lass?" Chibs asked, watching Eden pick at her breakfast from across the cosy booth of the diner he'd taken her to straight from work. He knew she must be tired, and that she'd had a rough night on duty, but it seemed like more than that.
"No," she said, not looking up. "Maybe. Little bit."
He smiled wryly at that. He could handle that.
"Oi," the biker started, reaching for her free hand across the table. "Look at me …"
Eventually lifting her head to shoot him a happy-now look, she sighed and gave in to letting her fingers interlock with his. "I don't need you always fighting my battles, Filip," she sighed. "You're as bad as Seth."
"I know," he conceded. "I just don't like seeing people trying to get in your head 'cause o' me."
"You called me your old lady. You're making a habit of just casually throwing stuff like that out there."
Chibs shifted uncomfortably at that, glancing down at their joined hands ruefully. "Shouldn't have. That ain't for me to spring on you."
"I do get it, you know," Eden said quietly. "What it means. I talked to Lyla. And … Well, I have always wanted more ink. Wasn't exactly planning on a crow, but I'm not opposed …"
"Sweetheart, it's so much more-"
"I know. It's being all in - including being tied to you in the eyes of the club's enemies, being a risk, a target. But I'm already with you, so I'm probably all those things anyway," she said. "And, unless you're starting to get bored of me already, I'm not planning on going anywhere."
The Samcro president met her gaze, conflicting emotions flickering across his scarred face. Memories of all the club women he had known over the years drifted from out of the dark recesses of his mind. Feisty, loyal, loving women – and stronger than their men, in their own ways. They had to be. They were the ones who carried the true burden of the club, left to pick up the pieces when shit went bad.
He didn't want that for Eden, didn't want her in danger. And he could tell himself he would walk through hell and take on the devil himself to keep her safe, but he knew plenty of Sons who had probably told themselves the same thing. Little good it had done in the end.
She was right, he knew that too. It probably was too late to keep a target off her back, this far down the line. Unless … He cut her loose. The thought of losing her made something twist painfully in his chest, but at least that way she'd be safe.
"No," she shook her head, making him realise his thought processes must have been mapping themselves out across his face. "Don't you dare."
"Eden …"
"Don't you dare," she warned, trying to blink back tears as her fingers tightened around his. "You can't just let me fall in love with you, Filip, and then push me away like it's nothing. What we have isn't nothing, not for me. And I can't believe it is for you either."
Fuck, she was breaking his damn heart. And he'd long since thought it was already shattered beyond repair.
"I just don't want you hurt," Chibs tried, but she pulled her hand from his as if it had burned her.
"You're the only one hurting me right now," Eden managed, burying her tear-streaked face in her hands to try to avoid making a scene.
"Oh, pet, don't …" he said roughly, unable to stand it any longer and quickly shifting places so he could slide into the booth next to her instead of opposite, wrapping her in his arms. "I love you, my darlin'. 'Course I don't wanna lose you."
"Then don't push me away," she sniffed, her head tucked under his chin.
He pulled back just enough to look down at her, his ringed finger tilting her face up to his to look deep into her eyes, wordlessly searching for the answer to the question he hadn't asked out loud.
"I love you, Filip Telford," she whispered. "Is that enough to be your old lady?"
His brown eyes stayed locked on hers, his hand smoothing a stray lock of hair back from her face, caressing her cheek as his mouth claimed hers in a tender kiss.
"Aye," he murmured against her lips. "Aye, it is."
