Lost Kings MC: Tattered On My Sleeve - Lost Kings MC: Tattered on My Sleeve Part 41
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Lost Kings MC: Tattered on My Sleeve Part 41

I tilt my head in his direction. "You gonna explain why your hands look like you went one round with a brick wall?"

He glances down, opens and closes his hands. "What do you think?"

"Coulda waited for me, brother."

"Z had a tip they weren't gonna be around long."

"Handled?"

"For now."

A different nurse comes in. She's older and doesn't look like she'll put up with any shit. "Out," she barks at Rock. "He needs to rest. And I need to poke him."

"I prefer to do the poking," I say to her with a wink.

That stops her in her tracks and she actually laughs.

"I'll be back later." Rock gives me a fist bump and heads out, leaving me at the mercy of the nurse who seems determined to do things to me I'm not gonna like.

"So, I finally get to see the inside of Trinity Hurst's room. Only took a broken leg to get here."

That earns me a smirk from Trinity. I'm so fuckin' happy to be free from the hospital. Still feel like I got hit by a train, but at least I'm free. As free as I can be with this clunky, fuckin' cast anyway.

"How come your room is so much nicer than our rooms upstairs?" I tease.

"'Cause you're all pigs?" I love the laugh that comes with the words. She'd been so silent and tense the whole way home. Said she was worried about me, but I could tell more than my gimpy condition was on her mind.

"No twin bed?" I ask.

Her startled eyes meet mine. "I ordered a new one," she whispers.

I look around the spacious bedroom. "You had a twin bed? Here too?"

Her chin tilts down and she lifts her shoulders in an embarrassed shrug.

"So, you got this for me?" I jerked my chin at the king-sized bed occupying the entire right corner of the room.

"Well, the club bought it for you." She waves her hand at the bed. "It's one of those adjustable ones, so you can elevate your leg. I want you to be comfortable."

Fuck, I don't even know what to say to that. "Thanks, angel."

She gives me a quick nod, then turns and starts rifling through her dresser drawers. Weary from the day, I throw myself onto the bed. Watching her sends dark questions through my mind.

"What are you doing?" I finally ask.

"Grabbing a few things. I'll stay in your room upstairs."

Like hell. "Why?"

"So you can recover in peace."

"Trinity, spending time with you is the only damn thing I've been looking forward to about this whole mess."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. Now get your sweet ass over here."

She places the clothes in her hand back in the dresser and shuts the drawer.

Damn straight.

Without hesitation, she takes a few steps until she's standing in front of me. Taking her hand, I press my lips against her fingers.

"I meant what I said in the hospital, Trin."

She tosses her head from side to side. "You were high on painkillers."

"Babe, I ain't ever been high on anything in my life that would make me say that shit if I didn't mean it."

A quick tug and spin gets her ass perched on the thigh of my good leg.

"What did I say in the hospital before Rock interrupted us?"

"You said a lot of stuff," she hedges. Trinity can't help but make this difficult. I understand, I guess. We've been hurting each other for years. Besides that, I have a better understanding of just how damaged she is. That leaves things up to me, and it's not like I'm the poster boy for healthy relationships.

Man, we're so fucked.

Running back over the last few days, I try to recall exactly what I said to her.

"Trinity, I started falling for you eight years ago-"

"Wyatt," she sighs, cutting me off.

"No. No talking. Just listen." I press my hand against her mouth to emphasize the no talking thing.

"I'm sorry about the shit I did in the past. But I want us to move forward. Together. You and me."

She wraps her fingers around mine, and tugs my hand from her mouth. "Can I speak now?"

"Only if you're going to say 'Yes, Wyatt, I understand.'"

One corner of her mouth tugs up. She must think I'm kidding.

"What are you going to do when you get bored with me? Or you're mad at me 'cause you think I looked at one of the guys the wrong way? Or a new club girl shows up and you want to-"

"Hush. In eight years, I ain't been bored of you yet."

"Yeah, but except for getting you ready for the fight, we've barely spent any time together. There's nothing interesting about me. I'm a glorified housekeeper."

"Are you fucking with me right now?"

"Wyatt, I don't know how to be in a one-on-one relationship. I've never seen a healthy example of one."

"You think I have?"

She stops and seems to think that over.

I wrap my hand around hers. "Listen, I enjoy being with you."

Her face softens, and she brushes her fingers over my cheek. "I like being with you too."

"Good." I take a deep breath for the next part. "When I'm with you. Really with you, I don't want to fuck anyone else."

The hand against my cheek trembles and she puts it back in her lap. Her eyes drop down and I slip my fingers under her chin to tip her head back up.

"The thought of you fucking any anyone else sends me into a murderous rage. I'm actually getting rage-y thinking about it right now, Trin."

Her mouth twitches. Mine doesn't and she realizes I'm dead fucking serious.

She doesn't pull away. My words don't scare her. Thank fuck she knows I'd never hurt her. No, my rage I take out on myself and other unsuspecting fighters.

"We've hurt each other a lot over the years, yeah?"

She nods.

"So, how about this. While we're trying this out,"-I have to pause because this next part is sticking in my throat like glue- "if either of us feels like fucking someone else, we talk it out first?"

She snorts, then rolls her eyes. "How's that going to work? One of the girls puts her hand on your dick and offers you a blowjob and you're going to say 'hang on, honey, I need to ask Trinity if she minds?' Not fucking likely."

Laughter rumbles out of me so hard, she bounces in my lap. "Yeah, something like that. I need to learn to curb my impulsive behavior anyway. Getting too old for shit that gets me in trouble all the time."

"What are you talking about? You're the most in-control person I've ever known. It's why you're such a good enforcer."

"Yeah, that's the only place my gut instincts serve me well. Everywhere else it just fucks things up."

"Like what?"

"Like eight years ago, when you tried to explain yourself to me and instead of listening, I stormed the fuck outta here. Or like not that long ago when I thought you were hooking up with Z and I took Cherry up to my room to get even with you."

"Oh."

She's silent as she absorbs everything I've laid out. Then, "You want me to be your girl?"

"More than anything."

"Wow." She hesitates and shakes her head. "You want to be my man?"

"Yes." Your only man, but I keep that to myself. I think I already made myself clear on this subject. Apparently I'm going for broke today. I force myself to take a deep breath. "I love you so fucking much, Angel Face."

Wary honey eyes stare back at me as her breath stutters and catches. "Wyatt?"

"Say it. Don't say it. I don't care, Trinity. It's true and I need you to know."

Tears run down her cheeks and I suffer some minor guilt. I've laid an awful lot on her, awful fast today.

Her fingers trace over my face, stopping at my chin. "I can't love you, Wrath. It hurts too much."

She's trying to distance herself by using my nick name. Okay. I get it. I can deal with it. I just hold her tighter. I'm surprised by how little her denial bothers me. She may not recognize it or know it, but she loves me. She'll figure it out. I'll spend every day showing her I'm worth the risk.

"Doesn't matter, babe. I love you enough for both of us. I'll prove to you we can do this. We're done hurting each other."

Along with his clothes and other belongings, Wrath unpacked a lot of heavy feelings in my room today. I don't know what to make of anything he confessed.

He thinks he's in love with me.

Shit. I don't know what love is. Hatred, sure. I have a lot of that stored up inside. Not for Wrath. Not anymore anyway. Maybe never. For myself? Definitely. Sometimes there's so much hatred inside I don't think there's room for anything more.

I'm behind the bar in the front room of the clubhouse. Wrath's in the middle of the room, soaking up the attention of his brothers and other friends who've joined the MC tonight to welcome him home. Each girl who approaches him gets a nod, but nothing more. Even through the crowd, I catch him watching me as I'm slinging drinks.

My gaze skips to Rock who's pacing the room. He's tried to reach Hope a few times and if it wasn't for this being Wrath's welcome home party, I'm pretty sure he'd be banging on her front door right now. When he finally gets her on the phone, the change on his face is visible even from where I'm standing.

Wrath nudges in and takes the phone away from Rock, shouting something at Hope. He gets a thump for his troubles, but laughs it off.

"Your boy is a pain in my ass, Trinny," Rock grumbles as he sits down at the bar.

My boy. Did Wrath talk to Rock already? I need to ask him not to. I'm not ready for that. I mean, it's stupid because the whole house probably knows by now that Wrath and I are shacking up together in my room. But I still have the cover story of it being about him recovering from his injuries. No need to go public with our "relationship" yet. I can't stand the looks of pity I'll get when we blow up.

Because let's face it, we're going to blow the fuck up. No matter what he said earlier, the reality is there's no way Wrath and I will work.

"I hear you, prez. Hasn't been in my room a minute and he's driving me nuts."

"I heard that," Wrath calls from his spot halfway across the room.

"Friggin' bat ears, I swear," I mutter under my breath. Rock snorts. "Hope coming up tonight?"

"Yup. Just talked to her. She's going to bring a few things up. I think you're getting thin back there."

"That's nice of her." I'm surprised because Rock's developed a weird thing about Hope not doing stuff around the MC. Whether it's for my benefit or hers I'm not sure. It would be annoying if after all these years his ol' lady came in and took over things, so I'm not complaining. As much as I like Hope, she doesn't strike me as the domestic type.

I keep busy running back and forth to the kitchen. Every time I look up, Wyatt has his eyes on me.

I'm an idiot for pushing him away earlier. But I know how this works. I watched my mother do the ol' lady thing, then the whore thing. The constant heartache and worrying seemed miserable. Never expected to find myself living the same life.

Not quite the same. I'm not saddled with a kid I never wanted and a man who taps club ass behind my back.

Because I am the club ass. How does Wrath really think this is going to work? If I give in and admit my feelings for him, I'm the one who stands to lose the most when we break up. Not him.

Why does he think he's in love with me? Sex? Yes. No problems there. Except when he does that weird hot and cold thing that confuses the hell out of me.