“I don’t know. It wasn’t the original plan. But I don’t hate it here, either. I think I just need some time to decompress and figure out what I do want,” I admitted. To her. And to myself.
It was strange to be past your early adulthood and still have no idea what you wanted your life to look like.
The only time I really had a clear vision of my future was when I’d been best friends with Vi and dating her brother. Back when I figured Vi, Valen, and I would have a great time in our early twenties—traveling, chasing skips, making fun mistakes. And then, eventually, Valen would do what he knew he always wanted to do—settle down in the club. And I, well, I guess I saw myself having his kids and not working while they were young, then finding something to spend my free time doing when they were older.
But with the end of that relationship, so went my dreams for that future.
I could barely stand most men for a night or casual weekend, let alone think of an actual future with them.
And if a man wasn’t in the picture, I guess kids weren’t either.
So, yeah, I was just… adrift.
The club was at least temporarily anchoring me.
“Hey, you know what I could see you doing? That maybe won’t end with you getting more holes in your body?” Violet said.
“What?”
“Working at Lo’s gym. I mean, I know she and Janie are still running things, but I bet she is getting ready to retire. She already mostly handed over the reins of Hailstorm to Chris. And Cash has stepped back a lot from the club. I could just see you there. Training the new generation of girls to kick ass.”
“I don’t hate that idea,” I admitted. I’d always loved the gym. I guess I just always sort of imagined I would need some sort of extra training to do something like that. Or have been part of the military. But, at the end of the day, I was probably every bit as well-trained as the others who had taught me classes as a kid.
It was, at least, an option.
“So, has anyone been taking care of you? You look like your hair needs to be washed.”
“It’s mostly been, well, Valen,” I told her.
“You’re shitting me. He once spilled my soup all over me when I was sick.”
“In his defense, you are the worst sick person I have ever met,” I told her. Even my mom dropped teas and supplements on the front porch, not wanting to have to confront the patient.
“Billie was almost ready to put me out of my misery herself the last time I had the flu and crashed at her place.”
“If she had any video evidence of you, the jury would never find her guilty. So how have you been?” I asked, trying to sit up, but the pain made it impossible.
All the time in bed was driving me crazy.
Violet wasn’t a good patient because she was whiny and needy. I wasn’t a good patient because it was hard to keep me down. I was the kid faking being well so I could get out of bed and go to school. Not because I particularly loved school, but because I liked being out, having things to do.
Being laid up was like a prison sentence for me.
“Ah, no. We’re not going to do that. Back to my brother being your—oh, speak of the devil,” she said as Valen moved into the room from the gym, looking a little flushed and sweaty still. Which, yeah, was stupidly hot. Damn him.
“Shit. What are you filling her head with?” Valen asked, and I couldn’t tell who he was talking to right then.
“I hear you’ve been taking care of Louana. Do you wear a nursemaid’s outfit while you do it? Hat and white stockings and all?”
“Vi, when the fuck was the last time you saw a nurse? They don’t dress like that.”
“Um… the skip I caught last Halloween dressedjustlike that would beg to differ,” Vi said, smirking. “You’re doing a shitty job, by the way,” she added.
“What? Are the wounds infected?” Valen asked, stiffening, his gaze darting to me.
I didn’t want to be charmed by the concern on his face, but there was no denying its presence, or my reaction to it.
“Her hair.”