Sanctuary (Freaks MC Book 2) (15 page)

He wasn’t sure whether it was his full bladder or the pain that woke him a few hours later. Whatever it was, he had to piss. Grunting with the effort, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed as those pains that hadn’t already woken up joined the others. Feeling about a hundred years old, he hobbled outside. Oh great. So now he was pissing blood. It didn’t come as that much of a surprise; he’d banged his back up pretty bad.

Given the circumstances, whiskey for breakfast probably wasn’t a good idea, but right now, Samson didn’t give a shit. Without something to kill the pain, he wasn’t going to be going anywhere. Grimacing as it hit his empty stomach, he swallowed the rest of the Scotch, then, somewhat reluctantly, limped back out into the rain.

Once outside, his eyes fell on a track at the side of the building. It was overgrown and hadn’t been used for many years, but at some time trucks had been along it, and trucks meant roads.

He had no idea how long he’d been walking, but he guessed it had been at least three hours. It had taken every last ounce of his strength just to put one foot in front of the other without falling flat on his face and to keep breathing. Finally, though, he thought he could hear traffic, and as he rounded the bend, there in front of him was a strip of beautiful black asphalt. As soon as he stepped onto it his legs gave way and he collapsed onto his knees, falling face first onto the road.

He didn’t have to open his eyes to know he was lying in a hospital bed. He tried to focus, but whatever drugs were being pumped into him prevented any coherent thought. All he was aware of, as he felt himself slip back into unconsciousness, was a small hand holding tightly onto his.

~ oOo ~

“You okay, Sugar?” Tiny leaned on the doorframe, clutching two cups of coffee.

“
Yeah.” Emma didn’t look away from where Samson was lying. “He’s so beat up, Tiny.”

“
He’ll be fine. He’s a tough motherfucker.” He passed her a cup, and, pulling up a chair, sat down.

“
But…”

“
Emma.” He laid his hand on her knee. “We ain’t sure what happened, but it looks like he ran out of road. That’s hell of a drop. Anyone else would have been killed, but that stubborn fucker... No way he’s gonna lay down and die. He’s beat up now, and it might take a while, but trust me, in a few weeks he’ll be back on his bike good as new.” He grinned. “Well, a bike anyway.”

She sighed and squeezed Deke’s hand. As the doctor had listed his injuries, she’d been convinced he wouldn’t survive the night. But as Tiny had pointed out, anyone who could walk as far as he did with a broken back of all things, wasn’t going to die easily. Reaching out, she touched the part of his face that wasn’t a mass of bruises. “If you ever scare me like that again, I swear, I’ll kill you myself.”

~ oOo ~

“
You’re a very lucky man.” The doctor smiled and examined the chart.

Deke refrained from commenting. He’d just been told he’d be flat on his back for four weeks followed by another six in a brace. No strenuous activity and definitely no riding. As well as a fractured vertebrae, he had three busted ribs, a hairline skull fracture, busted cheekbone, dislocated shoulder, and numerous cuts and bruises. He closed his one functioning eye. Obviously he and the doctor had a different idea about what was lucky.

The ever present grip on his right hand tightened, and he gave a tiny smile. The last few days had been spent in a drug induced haze, and the only thing he’d been aware of had been the little hippie chick next to his bed. Maybe he was lucky after all.

As soon as they were alone again he opened his eye. “When did you last get some sleep?”

“I’m okay, Deke.”

“
Not what I asked.”

“
I slept some last night. Tiny bitches at me if I don’t get proper rest.”

“
Good.” He closed his eye again as he felt his body start to shut down. Shit, he hated this. Just talking exhausted him.

When he woke again, she wasn’t there. Fighting the feeling of panic that was rising in his chest, he opened his eye. Tiny smirked. “Don’t look so worried, bro. I sent her to a motel to get some sleep. She’s hardly left your side since we got here.”

“I wasn’t worried.”

“
Sure you weren’t. You been clutching her hand like your life depended on it for five days now.”

“
Fuck you.”

Tiny shrugged, then frowned. “So you gonna tell me what happened?”

“Not sure. Was passing a truck and he started to drift. I guess he didn’t see me.”

“
You telling me it was an accident?”

“
Yeah.” Of course it wasn’t an accident. But right now, that was all he was prepared to say. The only people who knew the route he’d be taking were Barney and himself, but he didn’t want to throw around accusations until he was sure.

“
And you gonna stick to that story? I ain’t stupid. No way you’d pass a truck unless you were sure he’d seen you. And Barney, having trouble with his bike? He’s a Freak, Samson. If we ain’t riding, we’re working on our bikes.”

“
Bikes break down, Tiny. It was an accident.”

If Tiny had any doubts about what his former President was telling him, he kept them to himself. “Doc say anything about when you can go home?”

“Nah. Gonna be stuck in here for another four weeks unless I can persuade them otherwise. You should think about heading back to Seattle.” Samson frowned. “Don’t s’pose anyone’s found my bike.”

“
Sorry, bro. Reckon it’s at the bottom of the river.” He grinned. “Lucky you had your cut on, or we wouldn’t know you were here. Soon as we got word, Beth insisted we told your old lady an’ of course, once she knew, she wanted to be here. She’d have drove all the way here on her own, so I thought I should come and share the driving with her.”

“
Appreciate it, brother.” Samson could hear his voice slurring as he struggled to stay conscious. “She’s a good girl.”

“
Yes, she is. Now get some sleep, she’ll be here when you wake up.”

~ oOo ~

“Fuck. Emma, I’m sorry.” He had been home for two weeks now, and was already going stir crazy, and it was her who was on the receiving end of his frustration.

After two weeks of bitching, against his better judgment, the doctor had agreed to let him go home. He had to wear a lumbar brace for at least six weeks and avoid twisting, bending or any strenuous activity. He readily agreed and promised to visit his local hospital regularly. So, stocked up on painkillers, he climbed into Tiny’s truck for the long, painful trip home.

As he couldn’t sit for long periods, they had split the journey over two days, spending the night in a motel. It had been agony, but he had borne the pain stoically.

Over the last few days, though, that stoicism had vanished. He was sick of being in pain and not being able to ride, he was sick of the pain meds that made him want to puke, and most of all, he was sick of not being able to properly fuck his girl. Not that she’d let him if he carried on acting like a complete shit all the time. “Emma, baby girl. I’m sorry.” He hobbled out onto the trailer steps, where she was standing smoking a joint.

“This isn’t my fault, Deke.” She passed him the joint.

“
I know. Please, baby. Don’t be mad at me.”

“
I’m not mad, I’m tired. It’s hard work walking on eggshells all the time.”

“
I’m sorry.”

“
Yeah, you said.” She sighed. “Just forget it, Deke.”

He reached out and touched her cheek. “We good?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. Although maybe, in future, you could talk to me properly, instead of bitching all the time.”

“
I’ll try, baby girl. I’m not very good at this.”

“
No shit.” Reaching up on tiptoes, she gently kissed him. “Just try and be patient.”

~ oOo ~

“Emma.... Emma? C'mon, baby. Could use a hand, here. Emma, where the fuck are you?”

Emma gritted her teeth. “Coming, just give me a second.” She walked into the tiny bedroom to find him sitting on the edge of the bed with his jeans on his lap. “Why are you getting up? The physical therapist said...”

“Don't give a fuck what that bitch said. I ain't laying in bed all day. Just help me get these jeans on, then you can take me to the clubhouse.”

“
Nope. Not happening. You have to rest, and I have to stay here and wait for the blocks to be delivered.”

“
Fine. I'll drive myself.”

“
Good luck with that.” She leaned on the wall and watched as, with one hand and trying not to bend, he tried to put his foot in the leg of his jeans. He was scheduled for surgery to pin his shoulder, but until then, if he moved his arm, he risked it popping out of its socket again and because he refused to rest, his back wasn't healing as fast as it should. “I'm guessing you're planning on going to the clubhouse barefoot.”

Grunting with the effort, he tried and failed to lift his foot more than a couple of inches off the floor. “Goddammit.” He threw the jeans in her general direction. “Just fucking help me out, Emma.”

“Get back into bed, Deke. I'm not going to help you do more damage to yourself.”

He hauled himself to his feet and with his left foot dragging slightly along the floor shuffled towards the door. “I'll go naked then.”

“How about you stop being such a dick.” She stepped in front of him, halting his progress. “You know how it is. If you're not careful, you are going to do yourself permanent damage.”

“
Get out of my way, Emma.”

“
Nope.” She folded her arms.

“
I said get outta my way. Now fuckin' move.” Even naked but for the brace that encased his torso, he was an intimidating guy but Emma wasn't going to be budged. “Move, Emma. I ain't telling you again.”

“
Or what, big guy?” She lifted her chin, and her eyes met his. “You're not exactly in a position to move me.” The air crackled between them. “You may as well give up, Deke. Cuz I'm not going anywhere, and your legs will give out before mine.” They were inches apart now, and she could feel the heat radiating from his body. “I'll stand here all day if I have to.” The corner of his mouth twitched and as she felt him growing hard, she almost unconsciously leaned into him. “Deke...”

Even as broken as he was, Emma couldn't help but marvel at his magnificence. She ran her hands across his chest as he lay back on the bed, his eyes never leaving hers as he pulled her down with him. There was nothing about this big, strong, pigheaded man that she didn't love. Even when he was getting on her last nerve, she loved him. “Deke, you have to be careful, the therapist said...”

“Don't give a shit what the therapist said, baby girl.” He grabbed her hair and began to kiss her – effectively ending any further discussion – his hand slowly made its way down her body. “Get naked. I need you naked.”

Grinning, she climbed off the bed and pulled off her leggings and top. “Better?”

“Better. Now climb on.”

Straddling him, she leaned forward and again brought her lips to his, moaning as his fingers tangled in her curls and she felt his tongue plunge into her mouth. She knew that he hated that he couldn't fuck her how he wanted, and if she was honest, she hated it too. Not for her own sake, but for his. She hated that he was in pain, hated watching him struggle to his feet... Hated it all so much. But as she sat back and eased herself on to his cock, all that was forgotten. All that mattered right now was the feeling of him inside her and the knowledge that no matter what, they loved each other and that whatever life threw at them, they would survive it.

~ oOo ~

Dekes’s physical therapy was not going well. Emma sat on the plastic chair at the edge of the room waiting for him to snap. The therapist was way too perky, and Emma swore if she said “Wow, you’re doing amazingly well,” one more time she would strangle her herself.

Deke growled, his eyes meeting hers. “That’s it, I’m done.”

“
But…” The therapist started.

Emma was already on her feet, ready to intervene. “Trust me, if he says he’s done, then he’s done. C’mon, big guy, lets get you home.”

~ oOo ~

Instead of driving back home, she headed for the clubhouse. Deke shifted in the passenger seat and raised an eyebrow. Emma grinned. “You’ve got two hours. I have to pick up the canvas from Tiny’s and drop it at the gallery, so you might as well wait there. But.” She raised a finger. “No booze and no weed. You have surgery on Friday.”

“Yes, boss.”

“
I mean it, Deke. You heard what the surgeon said.”

“
I am capable of showing some restraint.” He scowled. “You could try trusting me, you know.”