The Black Plague.

Did you know another name for the Black Plague is death? I feel about as welcomed as that, so it fits. I understand it—I do. I don’t really like myself right now. I add it up as just another mistake in a long line of them. Everyone has given me the cold shoulder, and if looks could kill, then Dragon and Bull’s death glare would’ve done me in.

I’ve went and seen Nicole, but she hasn’t regained consciousness. She developed an infection. When I first came through and the nurse told me Nic was shot too…it felt as if my world was ending. All I ever wanted was to protect Nicole, and I’m the reason she’s clinging to life.

I’m supposed to be getting out of the hospital today. Crusher says I need to come home to the club. The club isn’t home—especially with everyone hating me. I don’t want to leave Nicole either; I’d rather stay at the hospital, until I know she’s going to be okay. I’ve said some prayers for her but it’s been well established that God doesn’t answer my prayers.

I’m sitting on my hospital bed, wearing the bloody jeans and a hospital scrub shirt the nurse gave me. The jeans have been cut up on one side, but they’re all I have. One of the nurses offered pants too, but I declined. I’m just thankful they didn’t cut the pants off me for some reason. I don’t want charity if I can get away from it. I’m used to having no one looking out for me. It’s less risky, and it’s better not to depend on people.

Still today, I’m feeling…lonely. I’m feeling…isolated. Part of it is the way the club is treating me, part of it is fear over Nic and still, some is…being tired. Deep inside, I’m disappointed I didn’t die. It would have been easier and better for everyone if it were me fighting for my life instead of Nicole. She has everything to live for. Me? Hell, I wouldn’t fight for life…not even a little bit.

“Those look like deep thoughts, hummingbird.”

My body jerks as I look up to see Beast standing here, and I instantly want to scream for help. I don’t trust him, he sent Tiny to me… he…

“Stop the looks, I had nothing to do with Tiny. When I woke up, you were sleeping. I went to find us breakfast, and when I came back, you were gone. I’d hoped that meant you felt like you could tackle things now. I sure as hell didn’t expect you to go off with Tiny—never did like that asshole.”

I’m not sure I believe him, but his words do have a ring of truth in them. Then again, what have I ever known about a man being truthful? There’s also the fact he’s holding a vase full of yellow daises. The flowers are big, but in his large hands they look small and awkward.

I clear my throat, trying to tread slowly here.

“He said you sent him. He mentioned things we talked about while I was there.”

“Little weasel probably listened through the door. I’m sorry,” he says taking another step in.

I keep my body from retreating further. I’ve been in the hospital for four days now, and that’s four days without pills. I wanted to tell the doctor that I needed some sort of anxiety medicine, but it felt like a weakness. What if Crusher or one of the club members found out? Would they label me as Nicole’s unstable friend who is completely crazy that got her…almost got her killed?

“Pretty flowers,” I say trying to sound tough, but I have a feeling it’s going to take a bit to find that voice again. It’ll at least be after I get out of here. Being in a hospital brings back memories. Memories I shouldn’t have. Memories that are slowly cutting holes inside of me, and that’s bad because I already have craters the size of football fields.

“You look like a daisy kind of girl instead of roses,” Beast says, as he puts the vase down beside my bed.

I touch the petals slowly. They are beautiful. Bright, soft petals the color of sunshine with warm dark brown centers.

“Why do I look like a daisy girl?” I ask before I can stop myself.

“Daises are strong. They can grow in the middle of a desert with little water. They bend and flow with the wind and still remain standing. Their stems are strong.”

My finger moves over the stem thinking on his words.

“The stem looks like a weed to me.” It’s probably not the nicest thing to say. They’re pretty, I don’t mean that. It’s just once…couldn’t I be like something beautiful…instead of something less…

“Looks can be deceiving,” he says bringing his hand under my chin and pulling my eyes from the flower to his face. “You have your own beauty, hummingbird.”

“What the fuck is going on here?” Crusher asks from the door, and I can feel the anger vibrating from him. He’s staring Beast down, and I bite my lip. You can feel the testosterone fill the room.

Beast turns around to face Crusher. I get there is probably hostility between the clubs, because of what happened and with Nicole right now, but I can’t handle any more fighting…not now. I’m on a razor’s edge as it is.

“How’s Nicole?” I ask Crusher, trying to redirect the conversation.

I stand up and wince as a flash of pain enters my bad leg, Beast places his large hand on mine and offers me his support. I push down using his arm almost like a cane. Once I get my balance and shift my weight to my good leg, I look up at Crusher, waiting for his answer. His dark eyes are glowing…some anger yes, but something else I can’t really decipher.

“She’s showing signs of coming out of it. They’re monitoring her closely. You can go see her before I take you home if you want,” Crusher says.

I swallow and think about what he says, before I answer. “I don’t think it would be good for me to go to the club…”

“Why the fuck not?” Crusher growls, and Beast blocks me from his path. It’s sweet, but even without my pills I don’t really fear Crusher…I don’t know why.

“I’m not exactly the most loved person around the Savage Brother’s MC right now. I just think it would be better for everyone if I stay at the house that Nicole and I rent.”

“No. You’re coming to the club, where I can take care of you.”

“It doesn’t appear you’re taking care of her now,” Beast says, folding his huge arms at his chest and making his biceps pop so much, I think they might need their own zip code.

“What would you know about it?”

“I have eyes.” Beast shrugs “You’re more than welcome to come back to the club with me hummingbird, my club will take care of you.”

“You’re the fuck-ups that got her in this mess to begin with.”

“Funny, I’d say that’d be your president pissing off the wrong people,” Beast responds to Crusher.

Four…three…two…one…please let me hold on to my sanity long enough to get out of here, get to the house, swallow some pills, and regroup.

“I can take care of myself. Can you two stop your pissing match over your clubs until I get out of here, please?”

I feel them looking at me, but avoid them. Instead, I choose to busy myself with packing up the hospital toiletries given to me in a plastic bag the nurse gave me.

“I have your discharge papers, Miss Smith.” The hospital nurse comes in with her clipboard and papers, oblivious to the tension in the room. Me? I breathe a little easier having her in here with me until she looks at me, and I see the disdain there.

“Thank you,” I answer trying to ignore the dull ache of pain that is slowly increasing the longer I remain standing.

As she goes over the care of the bandages and things, I feel Crusher standing close to my back. I look over my shoulder to see he’s standing right behind me, so close I can feel his breath against my skin. Beast is standing by the door watching us.

“Do you mind?” I ask Crusher, annoyed.

“I need to know how to take care of you, Hellcat.”

“I told you I will take care of myself, been doing it for a while now.”

“You need someone to help you until you’re better, and that’s me,” he answers.

“Doesn’t look like you’re doing such a great job right now,” Beast speaks up from across the room.

“Did someone ask what you thought?” Crusher asks.

“No, but she’s standing there in pain, and instead of helping her, you’re yelling at me.”

Crusher’s body goes rigid at the rebuke, I know, because suddenly, he pulls me back against him and takes my weight. His warm body slowly heats my back, and I find myself relaxing against my will.

“Why don’t you fuck off? No one wants you here,” Crusher responds to Beast, and the nurse looks up at me and shakes her head. She’s judging me, but I shake it off. Everyone does. I learned a long time ago that people will think what they want. The key is to pretend you either don’t give a fuck, or pretend you earned their dislike and enjoy it—for that reason alone I give her my fuck off smile.

“You’re treating her like your woman,” Beast starts again. This time my heart kicks in with fear, and I pull away from Crusher…no.

“Not my woman, but definitely property of the Savage MC, fucker.”

I ignore the way the distinction makes my heart feel as if it’s being squeezed in a fist. I don’t want to be any man’s property. I don’t even know why his reply should hurt, but it does.

“Will you two…,” I begin only to have Beast interrupt me.

“Why doesn’t she have clean clothes then? Are the Savage pussies too busy to make sure their property doesn’t have to go home in clothes they’ve been shot in? Where’s her flowers or balloons, something to show she’s at least a good piece of club pussy?” Beast asks, and I flinch.

The nurse shakes her head and gives me that look. The look I’ve gotten my whole life. The look that broadcasts one word. Whore. I got it when I married Michael with the whispered word gold-digger thrown around. I got it in the emergency rooms the few times Michael allowed me there for treatment. He took great pleasure in telling the doctors how I had a drug problem, and he would find me on the streets having been beat up by some john. He loved weaving lies that put him in the best light. I got that look every time I climbed up on the stage to dance and take my clothes off. None of those times hurt as much though as the nurse’s.

“Do you want to start something with me, motherfucker?” Crusher asks, but really, I’ve kind of had it by now. I grab my papers the nurse thrust at me, I take the small bag of items I saved from the hospital supplies, and put my papers down in it. I hold the bag in one hand and the flowers in the other, and then I hobble out. A wheel chair would have been nice, but Nurse Ratchet hasn’t mentioned one yet, and I’m tired of waiting.

“Woah, Hellcat…”

“Thank you for the flowers, Beast,” I say stiffly as I pass him.

“You can come back with me hummingbird, you’ll be welcomed there.”

Crusher growls and picks me up before I can respond. It’s all I can do to hold onto my flowers and not drop them to the floor. He shoots Beast a look and stomps out with me in his arms.