Loving Nicole (Savage Brothers MC #3)(35)

My foot pressers harder on the accelerator, but inside I feel like time has run out.





Chapter 21




Nicole


Is it possible to function and be dead on the inside? I never really thought about it. Right now, I am thinking about it every minute. I’m forcing myself to go through the motions, but I just want to disappear.

It has been four days. Four long days since I’ve lost Dragon. I can’t sleep, I don’t eat and most days getting dressed is just too big of a chore. I haven’t heard from Michael. I thought I would, especially after Crusher brought Dani home. Yet, there’s not been a word.

Bull has locked the club down. No one is allowed out and very few get through the gates. The families of the men have all piled in and it should be my job to make sure everyone has a bed and the kids are entertained, but I haven’t bothered. Hell, I guess technically it wouldn’t be my job now. It would be whoever Bull designates. Crusher was the VP, but apparently he is not real high with the men of the club right now. He’s also spending every waking minute with Dani.

Dani. Shit. She’s in bad shape. I want to help her, but I can’t even help myself. Carrie and the others have been working with her. They’ll take care of her. I can’t look at Dani. Part of it is guilt, because I should have called off the wedding. A bigger part of it is anger because she brought Michael into my life and it cost me Dragon. I feel ashamed every time I think that, I know I cost Dragon his life. I should have told him from day one about Michael. I should have told him about Dani from the moment we started a relationship, but I didn’t. I didn’t call off the wedding, I didn’t warn Dragon. I didn’t do anything and I am the one who killed Dragon—even if I didn’t plant the bomb.

Will Michael leave us alone now that he’s had a small part of his revenge? I’d like to think so, but I don’t. I know he is just sitting back, biding his time until he strikes again. I should be preparing for that. I’m not.

A light knock on my door brings me out of my thoughts. I don’t make a move to respond or answer. Again, it’s just too much damn effort.

“Nic sweetheart. We need to talk about the funeral,” Carrie says and I curl tighter in the ball I’ve made of myself on the bed. I clutch my stomach. My child shouldn’t hear the word funeral. Little Dragon shouldn’t know he will be denied his father’s touch, his father’s love. It’s wrong!

Oh God, please let me wake up from this nightmare.

“Nic…”

“Get out. Oh God, just get out!”

“Nic, we can’t keep putting it off. I know you’re hurting but…,” she says walking to the foot of my bed. Seeing her doesn’t help at all. What does she know about anything? She still has her man. Her child will still get to know her Dad.

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM!”

Carrie flinches like I hit her, I can’t help it—I do want to hit her. I want to hit everyone. I want to claw them until I draw blood, I want to scream and hit them over and over until this hurt and rage inside of me disappears. I feel poisoned by it. My body feels tainted, dark and full of bitterness. So much bitterness I think I’m drowning.

“Nic…”

“Just go. Just go. Oh God. Just go…”

I keep repeating just go; I don’t know how many times or for how long. I don’t even realize that I’m crying. Can one person cry nonstop for days on end and not die?

“Leave us alone for a little bit, Red.”

I hear Bull’s voice, but I don’t bother opening my eyes. I want to go to sleep and dream of Dragon.

A moment later I feel the bed dip with weight and then I feel arms pulling me up. Bull adjusts me so I’m leaning my head on his chest and he brushes his fingers through my hair. I want to pretend he is Dragon, but I can’t. The touch is wrong, the feelings are wrong, the scent is wrong.

“You surprise me Little Mama, I thought you were made of stronger stuff.”

“I miss him…”

“I know, I do too. We all do.”

“It’s not the same,” I defend because they have no idea.

“I imagine it’s not,” he whispers and his voice breaks on the word not. I know it pains him to talk and really I think this is the longest conversation I’ve heard from him since the accident.

“I don’t think I can do this, Bull. They want me to bury him. I can’t.”

He holds me a little closer, his finger still combing through my hair and he doesn’t respond for a little bit. The room is quiet except for my crying. His heart is beating steady against my ear. Its beat is so strong and again, it reminds me of what has been taken away.

“You will do what you have to do.”

“No…I just…”

It’s then I feel him putting something over my arms. It’s heavy and warm and it smells like… my man. God, Dragon’s cut. The cut he always wore—except the one day I asked him not too. The one day that…

I cry harder. I can’t stop the sobs that break loose. I don’t know how long it goes on. I just know that Bull holds me through all of it and I’m glad. I don’t want to be alone. Eventually I stop and just an odd shudder and hiccup comes through. I’ve soaked Bull’s shirt. He doesn’t complain.