Betrayed (Soldiers of Darkness MC Book 2) (26 page)

I lean back against the wall outside and light up a cigarette, and I take out my phone and call Hal.

‘Jesus, Zeb, d’you know what time it is?’

‘Get up, now, get over to mine and bring my bike to the hospital. And you better be getting your ass outta bed as I’m talking to you ‘cause I really ain’t in the mood for any crap.’

‘The hospital?’

‘Get my bike, and bring it here, Hal, I ain’t doing questions and answers right now, all right.’

‘Yeah… yeah, OK. I’ll be there in five.’

I take another drag on my cigarette and close my eyes and I know that I should be inside, waiting to see my girl, but I can’t just sit there and do nothing. I can’t do that. I need to ride, just for a few minutes, I need to do that to get my head straight ‘cause she don’t need me a mess. I gotta be strong for her, ‘cause if this really is happening…

‘You OK?’

I look at Sam, and he sighs, ‘cause he knows that’s a dumb question.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Can we see her yet?’

He shakes his head. ‘She’s gonna need you, Zeb. If she’s…’

‘Don’t, Sam. Don’t say it.’

‘Come inside.’

‘No.’ I take a last drag on my cigarette and look around me at the quiet, almost deserted parking lot, but it’s almost four in the morning so of course everything’s gonna feel different. Darker. More fucking terrifying. ‘Hal’s bringing my bike over. I’m gonna go take a ride before I see her.’

‘Zeb…’

‘I need to do that, OK? I’m a fucking mess, Sam.’ I turn to face him, and I jab at my temple with my fingers ‘cause the anger and the frustration, they’re coming back, those feelings are flooding my tired and bruised body and she ain’t gonna see me like this, she don’t need that. ‘In here, I’m a fucking mess, and I can’t be that way when I see her. I can’t.’ I drop my hand and fall back against the wall, closing my eyes and breathing in deep. ‘I’m only gonna be a few minutes. Then I’ll be back. ‘Cause I ain’t leaving her any longer than I have to.’ I open my eyes and look at him. ‘I ain’t leaving her, ever.’

Chapter Twenty-Two

Izzi

I feel it, the second I open my eyes – an emptiness, like something’s missing; a part of me’s gone, I know it has. But I can’t cry. I’m too numb. And I need Zeb, I need my husband, because I don’t think I can do this alone.

‘Izzi?’

I sit up, and it hurts, and I don’t know whether that’s a physical or an emotional reaction, and I don’t even want to be here, in this bed. I want to be home. I want to be curled up in my own bed with Zeb and the TV and I want us to get through this together because I know – our baby’s gone. ‘Sam?’

‘Hey… take it easy. Come on.’

I pull my knees to my chest and hug them to me, I don’t want to lie back and relax. I don’t want that. ‘Where’s Zeb?’

‘Listen, sweetheart… the baby…’

‘It’s gone. I know.’

He takes my hand and squeezes it gently. ‘No, Izzi, the baby’s OK. They’re fine, you just had a scare. A really bad one, but it looked worse than it was. You lost a lot of blood, but the baby’s fine.’

I’m confused. So why isn’t the doctor here, telling me this? Maybe Zeb’s talking to them, and I move my legs slightly and rest my hand on my stomach, and I breathe the biggest sigh of relief. Our baby’s OK. Looks like we got ourselves a little fighter already.

‘You need to take it easy, of course…’ Sam continues, and then his expression changes, and I know he isn’t telling me everything. Something isn’t right, and that emptiness hits me again and I don’t understand why I’m feeling that. My baby’s still inside me.

‘Sam… is Zeb with the doctor?’

He sits down on the edge of the bed, and I look out into the corridor and I can see Hal and Cora but I don’t want them. I want Zeb.

‘Sam? Where the fuck is Zeb?’

He drops his gaze, and the second he does that I feel the kind of fear I’ve only ever felt once before in my life and I shake my head, because I know this isn’t the same thing, it isn’t. I’m wrong, I have to be. I’m wrong. And when Sam reaches for my hand I pull it away, I don’t want his hand. I want Zeb.

‘Where is he, Sam? Where’s my fucking husband…?’

‘Listen to me, Izzi. And try and stay calm…’

I know what he’s going to say. I know, but it’s OK, because this is just a bad dream. I know what this is now, I mean, it’s been a crazy night, and I’m probably still feeling the effects of whatever sedative they gave me
, so, this is OK. Because it isn’t real, it isn’t happening. It can’t be. So that must be it, I’m dreaming.

‘He went out on his bike, he… he needed some air… he needed to get his head around what was happening because he thought… He wanted to be strong, when he saw you, Izzi, he… he just needed a few minutes…’

I stare at him, and the look in his eyes – this isn’t a dream. I’m not asleep. This is really happening, and I don’t want it to be real, but it is. It’s happening.

‘Don’t…’ I whisper, and he reaches for my hand again and again I pull it away. He isn’t going to hold my hand and tell me my husband’s dead, he isn’t going to do that. I won’t let him. ‘Please, Sam, don’t… don’t say it, don’t tell me…’

‘It…’ He looks down, and he clasps his hands together in his lap and I feel a sweeping numbness start to take over. I’m shutting down, because that’s the only way I can handle this. ‘I mean, his head was all over the place, sweetheart. And from what they’ve told me, it seems he cut a red light, and the truck… it was instant, Izzi. He wouldn’t have felt a thing…’

‘No.’ I whisper, and I’m shaking my head and clutching my knees to my chest so tight and I’m trying to wipe his words from my brain, he isn’t saying them, he isn’t. I’m not hearing them… ‘No… please, Sam…’

‘He loved you so much, Izzi…’

I want that numbness to stay, to keep me shielded from this, protected, but it’s pushing back and I’m exposed now, to Sam’s words, what he’s telling me. And I’m trying to pretend this isn’t real, but I know it is, and I suddenly feel a surge of pain and grief so overwhelming hit me, it knocks me sideways, and I’m howling like a wounded animal as the truth finally smacks into me head on. The tears start to flood down my face, and the room’s spinning, every inch of me is comsumed by a raw and terrifying grief and I just want to curl up into a ball and make the whole world go away. In the space of a few hours my whole world’s just come crashing down around me. Zeb’s dead. He’s gone.
 
And I can’t do this again, I can’t. I can’t lose people I love and survive a second time. I don’t want to. I don’t…

‘Cora…’

I hear Sam’s voice call Cora into the room, but it sounds like he’s miles away, and I wish he were. I want everyone to go away, to leave me alone, I don’t want their sympathy or their comfort or their arms around me. I want Zeb to hold me and tell me it was all a big mistake, they got it wrong. They got it wrong…

I hear their voices, but I don’t know what they’re saying, and I don’t care. I don’t care about anything anymore, and suddenly the memory of Aiden and my father being gunned down returns, slamming into me with the most painful of reminders and the pain – it’s overwhelming. It hurts so fucking much…

‘Izzi, honey…’

I look at Cora, but I’m not really seeing her, I’m seeing nothing. And another wave of grief engulfs me, and I don’t even want to fight it now, I’m too tired, so I just give in and cry and lash out because I am done now. I’m done…

Mack

I want to go to her. But I know she ain’t gonna want to see me. From what Sam just told me she don’t want to see anyone. They had to sedate her, a second time, he said. They had to make her sleep, put her out of it for a few hours, for the sake of the baby as well as her, because she was in pieces.

I pull the bike over to the side of the road and just sit there for a while. Zeb’s dead. Izzi lost her husband. Another man she loved has been taken from her and there ain’t no-one deserves that kinda cruelty. And she’s had to endure it twice over now. And it tears me apart to think of how lonely she’s gonna feel when this all eventually sinks in, it’s gonna destroy her. After what happened with Aiden and her dad, I know how terrified she was of losing someone again, of losing someone she loved, and she loved Zeb. I know that now. She loved him. And she lost him. And I don’t know how she’s ever gonna get over that.

I start the bike up again and turn around. I can’t leave now. I ain’t going to California, I ain’t leaving this place no more. Sam thinks I should at least come back for Zeb’s funeral, he was family, after all. He thinks I should keep my distance from Izzi, though, and maybe he’s right, but he can’t force me to do that forever.

I’m going back.

I’m coming home.

Izzi

‘Izzi, you’re in no state…’

‘I’m his wife, Sam. I want to see him.’

‘You shouldn’t even be out of bed, you need to rest, for the baby’s sake.’

‘I want to see him, Sam. I…’ I stop talking and sit down on the edge of the bed.

‘Izzi?’

‘I’m OK. I just felt a little dizzy.’

‘You should be in bed. You need to rest, it’s only been a few hours since…’

It’s Sam’s turn to stop talking, and I look up at him. ‘Since I found out my husband’s dead?’

I stand up and take a deep breath. I can do this. I have to. I have no choice, I can’t fall apart again. Not this time. I’ve got to think about my baby, I have to be strong for
them
. They’re the only piece of Zeb I have left now, and I can’t risk losing them too. ‘I want to see him.’

Sam comes over and gently touches my shoulder. ‘You don’t have to do this, Izzi. Not yet. Take some time…’

I shake off his hand and run my fingers through my hair. ‘I want to see him. Now.’

‘OK,’ Sam sighs, and he holds out his hand and I take it. And the second his fingers curl around mine I feel tears start to well up but I blink them back, I’m not crying. Zeb wouldn’t want me to cry, he’d want me to be strong. He’d want me to be that kick-ass girl he created. I just don’t know if I can do that; I don’t know if I can
be
her, not yet. But I’m going to try. I’m going to have to.

‘Do you want me to come in with you?’ Sam asks, gently squeezing my hand as the nurse makes to open the door to the room where they’ve laid out Zeb’s body.

I shake my head and let go of his hand, closing my eyes briefly and taking a deep breath as I walk inside. I turn to give the nurse a weak smile and a nod of the head to let her know I’m OK, and she closes the door behind her. But it takes me another second before I find the courage to turn and look at my dead husband. And when I do, the grief and the pain slams into me all over again and I feel myself start to crumble, but then I pull it back, I stop for a second and breathe in deep and I walk over to him. He looks so peaceful, like he’s just asleep, and I know so many people say that but it’s true. He
 
just looks like he’s asleep, and I reach out and gently touch his cut and brusied face, and I feel my insides twist and turn at the sight of him all battered and broken. I pull the sheet they’ve covered him with down to his waist, and I run my fingertips lightly over his chest, my eyes following their every move, and I’m trying not to cry, I really am, but the tears – there are too many to hold back, and they’re falling now, trickling down my cheeks, and I watch as one drops onto his skin. And I have to slam a hand over my mouth to stop me from crying out, the pain is so unbelievably intense.

I lean over to kiss him, and he’s still warm and soft and the tears are falling faster now, spilling out of me onto him and I take his hand and wrap my fingers around his and I never want to let him go. I want to lie here next to him and hold him and I want him to wake up and tell me it’s all going to be OK. We’re going to have this baby, and we’re going to be that family we wanted to be. That’s what I want to do. I don’t want to let him go, I don’t want to leave him here, alone, I don’t know if I can do that. I don’t want him to be alone. I don’t.

‘I love you so much,’ I whisper, and I run my fingers through his hair, and I kiss him again, and I’m feeling everything from anger to grief to a pain so familiar, and my chest’s tightening, making it hard for me to breathe but I’m not leaving him yet. I’m not ready. ‘And I’m so sorry, baby. For everything. I’m so, so sorry…’ My fingers graze his cut and bruised cheek, running over his rough jaw line and I’m willing him to open his eyes and tell me he loves me too, but I know he won’t. And that tears me apart, it rips me in two, and I really don’t know if I can do this again, if I can live through that pain and that loss, it’s too much. It’s too hard. It’s still too fucking raw.

‘Izzi?’

I don’t look up, I keep my eyes on Zeb, but I’m aware of Sam entering the dimly lit room now. And that’s OK. He can come in. I’m not going to stop him. Zeb was his family, his nephew. And I know that, despite everything, despite all the messed-up crap – I know he loved him too. In his own way.

‘We need to go now, Izzi.’

I still don’t look up, I just squeeze Zeb’s hand even tighter and touch his face again, wiping away the tears that are still falling from me onto his skin. ‘I’m not ready, Sam.’

He comes closer, and I feel him stand beside me, feel his hand on my shoulder. ‘You need to get some rest, sweetheart.’

‘How can I rest?’ I turn my head slightly and look at him for the briefest of seconds before I turn back to Zeb. ‘How can I do that? How can I sleep when he isn’t going to be there beside me? I don’t… Jesus, Zeb, I can’t believe you’ve left me on my own to do this when we need you…’ I close my eyes and I will these tears to stop now because I’m exhausted. I’m drained and empty and I really don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I want to. ‘We need you so fucking much.’