Thirty
For a split second, his hungover, sleep-addled brain registered the warmth of a body next to him – bare skin pressed against his, one smooth leg hooked over his thigh - as a good thing. Order seemed to have been restored to his world by the presence of his girl back where she belonged, in his bed and in his arms. But cracking open an eye only caused him to wipe a hand over his face with a groan when realisation dawned.
The sight of a blonde head pillowed on his chest actually made his heart sink, before the pangs of guilt and regret were eclipsed by the full hellish nightmare of the night before flooding back.
Chibs closed his eyes, as if that might be enough to escape the reality he didn't want to face.
Fuck.
Little wonder he'd once again sought solace at the bottom of a whiskey bottle. He must have gotten well and truly rat-arsed though, because he couldn't even remember more than a few flashes of his encounter with his unexpected – and frankly, unwelcome – companion.
He could remember Jerry Collins showing up at the clubhouse in the middle of the fight night after-party that had, not surprisingly, wound up migrating there from the gym. The sheriff had been grim-faced, all business – tactful, but insistent in his need for a quiet word, despite the obvious bad timing.
The news itself had left Chibs reeling.
He'd had to step up though. He'd had to be the one to tell Charlie.
The boy had been hard to coax away from the young sweetbutts cooing over him after his exploits in the ring and, knowing what lay ahead, Chibs struggled to bark an order at the prospect as was his right.
"Charlie," he'd tried again, something in his tone finally catching the young man's attention. "Wi' me, kid. Now."
Collins had stayed, stood quietly in the corner of the club church, but Chibs was still determined the boy would hear it from him. Even if he didn't know how he was going to find the words.
"Charlie, son, there ain't no easy way to say this … It's yer ma …"
He couldn't remember how he'd explained. But even now, laid in his bed with a sleeping woman he was torn between wanting to wake because he wanted her gone and not wanting to wake because he didn't want to have to face her, Chibs swallowed hard at the memory of the anguished cry that had chilled him to the bone. Like so many other dark moments from his past, he had no doubt it would haunt him for years to come.
The rest was hazier now, but he thought he'd slipped away just long enough to find Tig and explain, immediately sobering his shocked VP. He'd had to convince him to stay put and say nothing to anyone else, before loading their stunned prospect into the back of Collins' car and following on his bike to St Thomas.
Catastrophic head injuries. Blunt force trauma. Bleed on the brain.
Chibs wasn't sure how much he really took in, never mind Charlie. It had been clear they were being prepared for the worst though. Hope was apparently not a luxury they could afford.
Hours dragged on.
It was immediate family only by April's bedside in the ICU and, as much as he'd wanted to stay for Charlie's sake, the hospital hadn't been keen. He'd finally given in to going home and returning in the morning with anything Charlie might need, strictly on the condition he'd be called if there was any change, however slight.
It seemed he'd let down his side of the bargain though – swapping the advised sleep, hot shower and food for the better part of a bottle of whiskey and the cold comfort of meaningless sex with the first willing body.
The president shook his head, inwardly cursing himself. And her, even though he knew that wasn't fair. It wasn't her fault he'd taken leave of his fucking senses and decided to do his thinking with the wrong head. He just hoped to Christ she'd take the hint and leave without a fuss, but at least croweaters were used to that.
"Hey," he tried, his voice even rougher than it usually was first thing. "Darlin', wake up – time to go."
She stirred sleepily, murmuring some kind of protest, before a hand lazily swept her hair off her face and his heart seemed to sink even further when he finally recognised her.
"Lisa?"
"Oh, so you do know my name," Seth's receptionist managed, shifting off him to flop back against the pillows. "You kept calling me Eden last night. You'd think the least you could do is offer me breakfast to make up for it … Like, seriously? We're not even anything alike."
"You got that right," Chibs sighed heavily, letting his eyes close again. "Get the fuck out."
Even having been unceremoniously kicked out of bed, gathering up her scattered clothes along with what was left of her dignity to get dressed in the bathroom where she wouldn't have to see Chibs' obvious regret over their hook-up, Lisa Sullivan was left nursing a bruised ego along with her hangover and running late for work. She didn't even have time to go home first, so she was going to have to try to sneak into the gym and grab fresh clothes from her locker, hoping no one spotted her in her conspicuous dress and heels.
She knew that in itself was a long shot, and that her absence from the front desk had probably already been noted, groaning inwardly at the thought of Seth's disapproval. Her time-keeping was already something of an issue with the big gym owner, who had shown no signs so far of being swayed by her attempts to get round him by flirting and laughing it off. It suddenly dawned on her that sleeping with his sister's ex might not be a sparkling career move either, but she quickly tried to push that thought to the back of her mind.
It wasn't like Eden was still with Chibs. She hadn't done anything wrong.
Much as she might try to tell herself that though, Lisa couldn't help wishing she could turn the clock back. She and Eden might not have been super close, but they had become friends and she knew the paramedic would probably feel betrayed by what she'd done. Plus, she'd been stupid to think the biker president had any real interest in her, especially when he was so clearly drowning his sorrows over something and hung up on Eden. She didn't know why she'd persisted. She should have learned her lesson by now, especially after all the time she'd spent pointlessly lusting over Jax from afar and then chasing after Kozik, thinking what they'd had might have become more than just a casual fling.
She'd finally realised she was such a cliché, just another croweater trying to bag herself a Son, and she'd walked away – only to fall back into that lifestyle when the club got more involved with the gym. It was pathetic though. At least the Tacoma sergeant had been attracted to her, even if he'd only been interested in one thing. She didn't get the impression Chibs was even really after that. Not from her anyway.
She'd gotten too drunk and too carried away with the fantasy of having finally caught the eye of a patch, the club president no less. But she'd had to practically drag him into bed and it had been all too clear his mind couldn't have been further away. She'd ended up feigning a level of energy and enthusiasm he couldn't even be bothered trying to match and that she hadn't really felt anyway.
All in all, the whole sorry encounter hadn't exactly done wonders for her self-esteem. Maybe they could just pretend it never happened. It was already obvious that would suit Chibs just fine …
The stares and the whispers when she finally arrived at the gym quickly told her that wasn't going to be an option though and she struggled to hold her head high and ignore them as she headed for her locker.
"Good of you to join us."
Lisa winced at Seth's cold tone, turning to find him stood behind her, arms folded across his chest and a questioning gaze practically burning a hole in her.
"Sorry, boss," she tried to smile sheepishly. "I …"
"Have an excuse? Better be a good one."
"I'm sorry, Seth – it won't happen again."
"You're damn right it won't. You know something? If it wasn't for Eden defending you, you'd have been out on your ass a long time ago. Rub this in her face and you really will be looking for another job."
"It was a mistake," she said quietly, realising he wasn't just angry over her lateness and that she should have known the gossip mill would already have been churning. Too many people connected to the gym had been at the fight night and subsequent celebrations. Word was always going to get out. "It really won't happen again."
But Seth's face only darkened and she realised she had now pretty much confirmed what he could only have suspected from the rumours he'd obviously heard. "Seth …"
"What you do in your private life is on you," he said tightly. "Turn up late again and you're out. Got it?"
"Got it," she nodded ruefully.
The call came too late in the end.
Chibs had taken just enough time to grab a quick shower and a coffee to try to clear his head and was already crossing the yard towards his Harley to head back to the hospital when his phone rang. April had taken a turn for the worse and if there was anyone else they could call to be with Charlie, now was the time.
He prayed to a god he wasn't even sure he believed in any more the whole way to St Thomas, abandoning his bike as close to the door as he could get, taking stairs two at a time and hurrying along corridors.
He was still too late.
By the time they let him into the room where April lay, she was gray and still, her eyes closed. The machines were quiet, having been turned off once it was clear there was no more to be done, all the tubes and wires useless. Her injuries looked terrible, her fragile skull shattered, blood matted in her dark hair and her face badly bruised. Her lips were blue.
Charlie sat there like he was scared to move, just staring at her in disbelief, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen and her hand caught in his.
Chibs hesitated just inside the doorway, swallowing down a lump in his throat. "Charlie-Boy … I'm so fucking sorry, lad."
The young man nodded in acknowledgement, but then simply ducked his head, clearly not wanting to lose what little grip he had on his emotions in front of his president.
"Is there anyone you want me to call?" Chibs tried, just in case there might be some aunt or uncle he didn't know about, even though he was fairly sure there wasn't.
Sure enough, Charlie shook his head. "I … I don't have a-anyone left," he managed, the break in his voice making even the older biker's eyes sting with tears.
But he forced them back, moving to the young man's side and making him turn to look at him as he crouched by his chair. "Oi, what the fuck are we then, huh?" Chibs demanded, a hand settling on the back of Charlie's bowed head and giving it a little shake, but there was no harshness in his tone. "I know this is hard, kid, I do, and don't you ever be ashamed o' shedding tears for your ma, you hear me? But you ain't alone. You got me, your brothers. We're family, son. Don't you forget that."
Spotting a nurse waiting outside the window, Chibs took a deep breath. "Come on. Let them get her cleaned up a bit, eh? We'll come back, I promise. You can take all the time you need. But let's just … get some air."
"I … I can't leave her alone …"
"I know, but she won't be alone. The nurses, they'll take good care o' her," Chibs said, somehow getting the young man on his feet, an arm around his shoulders. "We'll come straight back. That's a good lad."
"If you want to wait in the relatives' room at the end of the hall, someone will come and get you when we've finished," the nurse said quietly, once they'd made it out of the room.
"Thanks, darlin'," Chibs said, starting to steer his charge in the direction she'd pointed.
"Charlie?"
Both bikers turned at the soft call, spotting Eden jogging towards them in her paramedic uniform.
"I just heard," she said, her attention focused on the prospect hanging his head and seeming to be hanging on by a thread as everything threatened to overwhelm him. "Oh, honey, I'm so, so sorry. Come here …"
Charlie hesitated as she held out her arms, but found himself simply wrapped in a warm hug, his arms instinctively going around her before he broke down and finally cried into her shoulder. The rawness of his pain was excruciating to witness. All Eden could do, her heart breaking for him, was hold him tighter, tears on her own cheeks and a hand in his mop of thick brown hair.
She didn't try to hush him, didn't tell him it was okay when it so clearly wasn't. She just let him get that wave of grief out, sinking to the floor of the hospital corridor with him when his legs gave out and rocking him gently as Chibs watched over them both with a heavy heart.
