Saving Glory (Hells Saints Motorcycle Club Book 4) (20 page)

“It sounds horrible, just awful. I’d be afraid too…” Glory began in a voice laced with understanding and compassion.

“Ain’t afraid of nothing,” Jules managed to growl out between the bouts of pain. “But yeah. I’m fucking
concerned
that the pain meds will cause all those cravings and all that need to rise up in my body again. Bio-chemical reaction and all that shit. And you have no idea how hard it was to come back from that. I don’t even get Novocain at the damn dentist and I’m gonna let them put that shit in my veins? No fucking way.”

“What made you stop?” Glory could not imagine the strength of will it must have taken for Jules to rid himself of the destructive and insidious addiction. “How did you ever find the strength to stop?”

Jules looked at her with such misery that she could see the weight of it on his shoulders. His huge countenance seemed to shrink slightly before her.

“I had a friend. A good friend. A best fucking friend. We did everything together.
Everything
. Shit, we even dated the same girl for a while—until she found out that we were comparing notes and dumped both our asses.” Jules snorted, then his eyes darkened and his lips thinned. “Shit just escalated from the pills and the pot and the coke to smack and when we first shot up, we did it together. Then we did it more and more. Then it was all the fucking time. At the worst of it, we were shooting up over a hundred bucks a day. Me and my buddy.” Jules closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them again, they were bright with remembered sorrow. “That last time, we got some bad shit. After I injected him, he overdosed and died in my arms. And I had to leave him there.”

“What was his name?” Glory asked in a sad whisper.

“Chase. His name was Chase.” Jules let out a long fractured breath. “He was a good kid, a good friend, and he would have grown up to be a great man. But he never got the chance. He died with a needle in his arm. A needle that I put there. And I left him. I left my best friend’s body on a filthy park bench to be found by strangers. That was my wake up call. Since that day I have never used again. I started NA meetings and got myself a sponsor. I did exactly what they said to do and I got clean. Cold turkey clean. Not an easy thing to do. And I was alone. My parents had divorced by then. I didn’t give two shits about my dad.” Jules voice broke slightly and he paused for another long moment while the blood continued to seep through the cotton gauze.

“What about your mother?” she prodded him to continue.

“My mom?” Jules first looked surprised by the question and then uncomfortable. “I was too ashamed to reach out to her. While I was at the height of using, I broke into her house and stole from her. Her jewelry, whatever cash she had. Everything. She didn’t deserve that. My father left her for some flavor of the month and I screwed her over too. Couldn’t face her after that.”

“So you went through the withdrawal alone?” Glory asked.
How heartbreaking
.

“Yeah. Honestly I didn’t think I was going to make it through. Withdrawal is fucking rough. Second hardest thing I’ve ever done. I refused to take the Suboxone,” Jules told her. “It would have helped me get rid of the pain of physical withdrawal, but I didn’t want it. I wanted to remember how hard it was to get clean so I would never be tempted to use again. Once I got over the worst of it, I was still left with some of the anxiety and paranoia that comes with all that other shit, so I went back to smoking weed once in a while. Been smoking for years. It calms me and it’s enough. But putting anything stronger back into my system? I can’t risk that my body will remember that high and want more.”

Glory nodded her understanding and, for his sake, stayed composed and poised. But she could not have been more shocked at Jules’s admission of addiction.

Or more impressed at the strength of will and character that it took for him to beat it.

Because even for an obstinate, strong minded, tough guy like Jules, overcoming a dependence on a drug as powerful as heroin is no small thing.

Glory had always viewed Jules as a strong, impenetrable force. A Viking war god roaming the earth disguised as a mortal man. Now she realized that she had only scratched the surface, had only seen a shadow of the strength of the man she loved.

The man she loved.

And while Glory really didn’t know much about addiction, there had to be something the doctor could give Jules that wouldn’t act as a trigger. But even if the pain medication did make him suffer a set-back, he had to take it and soon. If the worst case scenario happened—he beat the devil before, he could beat it again.

“What was the hardest thing?” she asked him suddenly.

“What?” His head was back on his pillow, his eyes were closed and he looked a million times worse than he did five minutes ago.

“You said kicking heroin was the second hardest thing you’ve ever done. What was harder?”

Jules focused on her through a haze of pain. His dark blue eyes held hers for a long moment before he closed them again and said, “When they came and told you about Hal’s injuries—and you wouldn’t let me touch you. That was the hardest thing, Glory. Letting you go was the hardest thing.”

Glory pressed a hand over her heart to stop it from leaping up out of her chest, and placing itself at his feet in surrender.

Letting you go was the hardest thing for me too, Jules.

Glory swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. “Take the painkiller, Jules. I won’t let it hurt you. I won’t let you go back to that dark place.”

When Jules remained in uncertain silence, she squeezed his hand and said fiercely. “You’re not alone this time. We’ll get through this together. I promise. Please, please let me talk to the doctor. I swear to God that I won’t let him give you anything that will hurt you.”

Jules looked down at the small hand that clutched his own so tightly.

“You telling me you’re volunteering to be my guard dog?” He let out a low humorless laugh.

“That’s what I’m telling you.” Glory squared her shoulders. Her words rang out loud and clear.

Jules regarded her solemnly. “Babe—I don’t know if you’re strong enough.”

His eyes were filled with doubt, sadness and something that looked just a little like hope. And that small look of hope was enough to warm Glory’s heart and steel her resolve.

“Just watch me,” she said.

Then Glory went out the door.

In less than a minute, Glory was back at Jules’s side with the physician. Prosper and Raine entered the room behind them but the others stayed outside.

The doctor wasted no time.

“I understand your concern of a relapse. Because of the length of time you have in recovery, I don’t share your concern, but I do understand it.” The doctor placed two fingers against the pulse on Jules’s wrist and looked at his watch as he talked to his patient. “I can offer you a non-opiate pain reliever. It is not as effective as the more powerful drugs, but it will relieve a good deal of the discomfort. I’ll work as quickly as possible. Now Mr. Bonny, are you ready?”

When Jules looked past him to Glory, she lifted her chin slightly and gave him a small nod of encouragement.

“Yeah, I’m fucking ready,” he answered.

Almost before the words were out of Jules’s mouth, the doctor leaped into action. He moved quickly to Jules’s bedside and spoke in low tones to Raine. They disappeared behind the screen and Glory heard water running.

As Glory moved to take her place by Jules, she took a moment to glance around the room. There was a small autoclave set up in the corner, two stainless steel tables, and a machine that Glory recognized as being some sort of monitoring device. A large dressing table was piled high with towels and the shelves above it were filled with boxes that boasted latex gloves and gauze bandages.

Raine was right, the large room was similar to the compound clinic. Glory wondered fleetingly if all organized crime organizations had a make-shift surgical unit ready for use at their private disposal.

The doctor reappeared from behind the screen and without another word plunged a syringe into Jules’s arm.

“Boss?” Jules called out.

“Right here, brother.” Prosper moved immediately to his side.

“Just make sure the doc here don’t get his revenge for all those wop jokes by amputating my leg,” Jules said groggily. The drug had begun to take effect.

“If I cut off anything, it won’t be your leg,” Dr. Giordani muttered with good humor.

Jules closed his eyes and gave a low, drug-induced chuckle. But when he opened them again he focused straight on Glory. Relief surged through her body when she saw the wrinkle of pain smooth from his brow.

To Glory’s surprise she realized that Raine had already strapped Jules down on the narrow bed. With a push of a button the head rest was lowered until he lay flat and relaxed.

“You need to let go of his hand now, Glory. The doctor needs room to work,” Raine said softly to her.

“I promised I would stay right.” Glory protested.

“Okay. Stay. But you need to move aside. Just a little. Go stand by the door with Prosper. I am going to be right here helping the doctor,” Raine spoke quickly as she dried her hands. She snapped on latex gloves and moved to the opposite side of the table where the doctor was prepped and ready.

Glory moved to the corner of the room where Prosper stood. When he unwrapped his arms and pulled her in close to him, she drew strength from his warm solid form. But still, she felt a shiver of anxiety pass through her body when she saw Raine hand the doctor a scalpel.

“Tough motherfucker.” Prosper meted out his own brand of reassurance to her.

Glory nodded and began to pray. Every time she heard a groan or moan she tensed and dug her fingers into Prosper’s forearm. It was obvious that this medication was not as strong as the meds that Jules had refused.

He was experiencing pain.

Glory closed her eyes and focused on taking in deep cleansing breaths. It seemed like forever before Raine turned from her intense focus and smiled at Glory in triumph. “A few stitches and we’re done here. It was a clean wound. There shouldn’t be any lasting trauma or damage to the muscle tissue.”

“Shit, that weren’t nothing more than a splinter.” Prosper grinned.

But Glory did not miss the look of relief that passed over his face.

Jules woke up the next morning to a searing pain in his thigh, a mouth that felt like cotton, and a nasty headache. His mood turned infinitely worse when he realized that Glory had not kept her word and that he was in the room alone. Not that he had expected her to stay by his side all damn night. He wasn’t a baby, for fuck’s sake. But she had said she’d stay with him.
She had said it.

And he had poured his heart out to her. Fucking embarrassing the way he had spilled the beans. He had never told anyone that shit about his past. No one except for Prosper, and he had only told him the general shit. He felt he had owed that to him when he joined the club.

“How’s the patient doing?” Raine poked her head in the doorway.

“I feel like shit.” He glowered as he strained to look behind her. When he saw she was alone his black mood grew by half.

“Of course you do,” she responded good-naturedly. After a quick satisfied glance at his leg, she handed him a large oval shaped pill and a cold bottle of water. “Take this. Then I need to change that bandage.”

“What is it?” He eyed the pill in suspicion.

“Just something to guard against infection.” Raine moved quickly and efficiently around the room. “Are you hungry?”

“No. Thought of food makes me sick,” Jules responded sullenly. “Where’s the prez?”

“Prosper is downstairs talking to Gianni.” Raine put some gauze on the side table. “Can you lift your leg just a little so I can get the bandage around it?”

“Where’s your old man?” Jules winced against the pain of the slight exertion.

“Diego’s out in the yard with the girls.” She unwrapped his leg and examined the incision. Then with a pleased smile she told him, “It’s healing nicely, Jules.”

“Great.” He scowled and flinched when a piece of the clean gauze caught on a stitch.

“Sorry,” she apologized. “I’m almost done.”

“Reno with Claire?” Jules scowled at her.

“Yes, he is. He said something about getting the boys together later to clean up some of the damage left from the attack on the compound, though.” Raine paused and looked at him. “Was it bad? Diego and I haven’t really had a chance to talk.”

“Nah. We were ready for the fuckers,” Jules reassured her. “And the Aces had our backs. From here on out our boys in Florida are gonna be keeping the Colombians so damn busy protecting their own territory that they ain’t gonna have time to be pulling their bullshit up here.”

Then.

“The Marine still here?”

“Yes he is. Hal went out to the security hut to talk with Gianni’s crew. Now that the threat is over, everyone is anxious to get back to normal.” Raine finished dressing the wound. “Gianni has extended his invitation to us for another day or so, while the Saints take time to clean up and work out some stuff.”

“Everyone is staying?” Jules couldn’t bring himself to ask for the one person he wanted to see the most. The person who promised to have his back and who seemed to have disappeared the first damn chance she got.

Fucking perfect. Just like a woman. The minute she gets what she wants, she checks out.
Well I don’t need her anyway.
Jules set his jaw. It was at that moment that Glory breezed into the room with a breakfast tray in her hand.

“Oh, you’re up?” She beamed at him from the doorway. “I was hoping to get you some toast and eggs before Raine came to change the bandage. How are you feeling?”

Glory’s white blond hair sat on her shoulders in clean, tousled waves. Her incredible light blue eyes were clear and bright. Straight white teeth bit a rosy full lip in concentration as she tried to keep the contents of the tray from spilling over.

She looked like an angel.

At the sight of her, Jules felt his agitation slip away and in its place relief washed over him in long cool strokes. All thoughts of throwing her out on her skinny ass were replaced with a desperate desire to keep her as close to him as possible.

“Raine said I have an infection.” Jules huffed as she placed the tray on the bedside stand.

“Really?” Glory arched an eyebrow as she went on to pour out the coffee. “Raine said that?”

“I did not…” Raine began in protest.

Jules interrupted Raine’s contradiction with a scowl. “She gave me a pill. Big white fucker. Told me I had an infection.”

“I said the pill was to
prevent
infection.” Raine looked at him in exasperation.

“Same damn thing.” Jules snorted and continued his rant, “and someone left the window open last night. Froze my ass off.”

“Were you cold?” Glory frowned as she put the ketchup on the side of plate near the eggs like she knew he liked. “The room was so stuffy that I just thought you should breathe in some fresh air. There wasn’t much of a breeze.”

“You opened the window?” Jules eyed her with suspicion.

“Glory stayed here with you all night, Jules. The only time she left was about an hour ago when I came in and told her I was going to have to wake you up to change your bandage,” Raine told him. “Then she scurried off for a shower and to make your breakfast.”

“You stayed here all night?” Jules asked in surprise.

Glory stopped mid-motion and looked at him. “I said I would, didn’t I?”

“Yeah. You did,” Jules mumbled.

“And you doubted that?” Glory put her hand on her hip.

“Nah. No. Of course the hell not. It’s just that you weren’t here when I woke up and…” Jules’s look of discomfiture had nothing to do with the pain of his leg.

“You though that I had bailed on you? That I had gone back on my word to you?” Glory shook her head and frowned at him. “Shame on you, Jules Bonny!”

Raine regarded the two of them, biting back a grin when she said, “Too bad you went to all that trouble with the breakfast, Glory. Jules just told me a minute ago that he wasn’t hungry.”

With that, Raine exited the room, closed the door behind her and left Jules to face his own well-deserved consequences. Glory looked from Jules to the tray then back again expectantly.

“Set that tray right down here, babe. Don’t know what the hell Raine’s talking about,” Jules eyed the eggs and toast with a grin. “I’m starving.”