The Lies Between Us (The Devil's Dust #4)(51)

I sigh with relief and pull back onto the highway.

***

“So, what happened?” Doc asks. Her cold hands take my chin and turn my head, getting a better look at my cut.

“I can’t,” I pause, and inhale a large breath.

“I get it, and you don’t have to tell me. But you do need stitches,” she informs. Doc is dating Bobby at the club, and is gorgeous. She ran to the club when she was in the worst kind of Hell with her husband, and they took her in right away in exchange for her doctor duties. If anything, she should be an inspiration for me. She is the prime example that someone can escape an ex and everything turning out okay.

She flips her blonde hair over her shoulder and grabs wipes to clean my face.

“This is going to hurt,” she warns, her blue eyes promising me it’s going to hurt like a bitch. I close my eyes and nod.

Ten minutes later, I can’t feel the right side of my face, and I have little beady black stitches snaking in and out of my eyebrow.

“I won’t tell Lip you were here, but something tells me he’s going to notice,” Doc states, a smile on her face.

“Probably,” I mutter, pushing myself off the hospital bed. “I’m going to tell him, I just… I need to find the right words, ya know?” I look up at her and find her sympathetic eyes gleaming at me.

“I get it. Sooner is better than later, though.” I sigh, knowing six years ago would have been a better time. “They can come out in two weeks,” she instructs. “Keep them clean and dry.”

“Got it,” I reply.

I take the discharge papers from the front desk and head out to my car. Digging in my pocket to text Lip to find out if he’s coming home tonight, I notice I forgot my phone in the hospital room.

“Damn it.” I turn on my heel and head back to the hospital when a large explosion sounds behind me. Unbearable pressure and heat throw me forward like a stick. The palms of my hands eat the asphalt and the skin on my knees tear. I cough and look up, finding my little red bug in a cloud of black smoke, red and orange flames licking in and out of it.

A bunch of nurses and doctors come rushing out of the hospital doors.

“Cherry!” Doc screams, running to my side.

“I’m okay,” I croak.

Doc looks at my car and then to me, her expression taking on one of worry.

“I don’t know what you’re not wanting to tell Lip exactly, but I’m thinking you better tell him now.” I pull my gaze from her back to my car.

“The club will protect you, Cherry; you just have to be strong enough to ask for help.”


LIP

My phone vibrates in my pocket. Pulling it out, I notice it’s Cherry.

“Yeah?” I answer.

“Lip?” My body goes cold with the sound of her voice. I don’t recognize it. It sounds scared—terrified, even.

“Cherry, are you okay?”

“I need you to come get me. I’m at the hospital.” The line goes dead.

“Cherry?!” I yell into the phone, but she’s hung up. My body turns cold, as if someone just poured f*cking ice over me.

“You all right, man?” Shadow asks, lifting a brow.

“Something’s not right. Cherry is at the hospital. I gotta go,” I say, already standing.

“The hospital? Is Doc okay?” Bobby questions.

“I don’t know anything except Cherry is at the hospital and something is wrong,” I reply.

“Let’s go!” Bull hollers, striding out of the club doors.

Pulling up to the hospital, there is a fire truck sitting in the parking lot next to three cop cars. My hands clench, and my pulse quickens.

As soon as I park my bike, I find Cherry leaning against the building, a cop with a notebook standing in front of her.

“Cherry!” I yell, running to her. She pushes herself off the wall and rushes to me.

She slams her body into me and my arms wrap around her like a shield, protecting her from whatever might have her scared.

“I think we got what we need here,” the cop states, walking away.

I tuck Cherry’s head under my chin and notice Bobby soothing Doc near the hospital doors.

I glance over toward her car; you can’t even recognize it anymore.

I pull back and take her chin in my hand, lifting her face to look at me.

“What happened, Cherry?” Really looking at her, I notice the stitches in her face. Did she get them from the car?

“I loved that f*cking car,” she grits, anger pouring with each word.

“What happened to your face?” I interrogate. She pushes her palms against my chest and looks over her shoulder at Doc. I lift a brow in suspicion and look at Doc, who gives her a curt nod. Cherry nods back, like some secret code shit girls do. Cherry squares her shoulders and lifts her head.

“I need the club’s protection.”

***

“You all right, darling?” Bull questions from the head of the table. Cherry shrugs. I’ve never seen her so defeated before; it’s like she’s a whole other person. The boys notice it, too—I can tell by the look of concern written on their faces.

“You mean besides someone trying to kill me and blowing up my f*cking car?” Cherry shakes her head in anger, but her tone is laced with sorrow.