My side aches; shooting pain greets me as I come to. I must’ve passed out when shit hit the fan with Saint. Jesus, what a catastrophe. I hope no one killed him. Knowing Saint, I wasn’t the only one injured in his outburst, either. It won't surprise me if there are two or three other brothers with stiches somewhere on their body as well.
Glancing around, I find myself in my own bed and alone. My side’s bandaged up, nice and neat with a lump of white gauze secured with medical tape. 2 Piece must’ve stopped by and fixed me up; it looks like his work. Thank God that guy’s close to us and on call whenever anyone needs him; we’d be fucked, if not.
My bed’s comfortable, the room at the perfect temperature, yet all I can think of is what went down in Church. Also, where did Jude end up? I hope she didn’t see me out of it and freak. Worrying about Saint losing it is bad enough—add another person to the mix, and it gets even more complicated.
Saint went flipping psycho earlier. I knew he’d be pissed if he ever found out, but not violent with me. I figured for sure he’d try killing my ex or Jude...but it was me he went after in the end. I can only imagine how it would’ve turned out if he’d have found out sooner and the brothers wouldn’t have been around to stop him in his rage.
The sound of the cry he’d let out as I’d drifted off, was haunting. I think he finally realized what he’d done once he was pulled away and there was distance between us. And that fucking knife...when I’m feeling better, I’m torching that damn thing until it melts down to nothing. He’ll never touch that blade again.
And now, here I am left to wonder what the fuck happened afterward. If I move, I’ll probably bust a stitch or two, but that’s never stopped me before. I need to find out if Saint’s dead first off, and then check on Jude. If she found out what happened, she’s probably traumatized. And if my brother’s dead, then I’ll be dealing with whoever dealt the final blow.
This mess wasn’t any of the club’s business, but with Saint bringing Jude here, he made it theirs. It would’ve been much easier for me to break it to him slowly without Jude in the mix, but he somehow found out about her mom regardless. It probably doesn’t make sense to some why I’d seek an annulment. But if I pretend I don’t know where she is, then it won’t look so suspicious if the cops were to overturn any evidence. Sounds fucked up, but it's the only way I can think to stay out of prison.
That’s another reason why I’ve been fighting myself to stay away from Jude. I fucking killed her mother. And the worst of it all is that I didn’t even care. The only worries I had was to not get locked up because of it.
I had to make sure Jude was taken care of too. Without her mother there to help her pay bills and what not, she needed me. I keep reminding myself that the chick could’ve starved had I not kept coming around. Saint should see that eventually...one can hope anyhow.
And yet I find myself hung up on her ass way more than I ought to be. Each time I’d go for a visit, I’d swear to myself it’d be my last time there. I had to get a plan together in order to cut ties. We can see how that worked out for me.
Obviously, it wasn’t soon enough if Saint was able to see through my excuses. The other brothers never asked where I was going. Hell, they’d have been mind fucked if they had. I answer to no one except the Prez and occasionally Saint.
Slowly jostling my body, I move to sit myself up, getting met with more stabbing pain. It quickly reminds me of my wound and the importance to let it heal. I hate this shit. I don’t do well having injuries, it reminds me too much of when I was younger.
Saint is nothing like my father though. He’s never hurt me like this before. I wouldn’t have stuck around in the past if he had.
Slowly standing to my feet, I grit my teeth as the skin on my stomach stretches out again.
Fucking shit.Thank God I was out when he sewed me up, that shit would’ve sucked if not.
Blowing a deep breath free, I curse a few times and take my time heading out my door. Saint’s room is next to mine, so I don’t have to go far to search for him. I find his door unlocked, so I enter without knocking, as we always do.
“The fuck?”
He has Jude in his bed, and he’s lying on top of her. Thankfully they both have clothes on still. I’m injured, and he’s working to get in her pants. Can’t say I’m amused in the slightest. He has some nerve, that’s for sure.
“Brother!” Saint gapes and leaps up, coming toward me, and I cringe holding my arm up between us.
His expression falls seeing me react to him as if I’m frightened. I’m not. I’m just sore and a little confused on how he’s feeling and why Jude’s in bed with him. Is he still furious from before, or has he calmed down enough to talk?
“You okay?” I ask, seeking her out, my gaze trailing over her swiftly.
Her eyes fill with tears, but she nods.
“You hurt her too?” I question Saint, watching him look like his usual self. Well, minus the bite mark on his chin and his swollen temple. That must’ve hurt. Can’t say I mind him being a little fucked up, though, after what he did to me.
“Nah, the bitch bit me, so I bit her back.” He motions in Jude’s direction and a rumble of irritation takes over my chest.
“If she bit you, you should’ve left her the fuck alone.”
“I was tryin’ to be straight with her, and she flipped out.”
With a scoff, I tell Jude, “Come on, you’re coming to my room.”
She peers over at Saint, unsure of what to do, and it pisses me off. Jude was mine first. She was all for me before she even knew Saint existed. Now a few days with the brother and she’s giving a fuck what he has to say?
“Now, Jude.” I drop the order, no room for argument in my voice, and she hops up, doing as she’s told.
She passes in front of Saint, and he snatches her arm, not letting her go. “Not so fast. We need to talk, Sin.” His movements have the tension radiating from me. I’m not in the mood for any more of his shit today.