Bash, Volume I (Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club Book 3)(8)

By: Candace Blevins

“Which hospital is she at? I need to go to her!”

He exchanged a look with Brain, and then looked back to me, shaking his head, his eyes sad as he said, “I’m so sorry. She’s gone, Angelica.”

It took a good five or ten seconds for his words to sink in enough for me to register what he was saying, and I screamed, “No! She can’t be!” I looked to Brain, knowing I couldn’t say anything about her being a werewolf, but we’re hard to kill, so maybe they thought she couldn’t survive her injuries, but she just needed someone to help her change.

Brain was holding me, his strong arms around me. Supporting me, because my knees didn’t want to hold me up. I felt myself panicking, losing focus, and I took a breath to clear my head. This wasn’t right. My mother couldn’t be dead. We just needed to hear the facts and then everything would be okay.

One of the uniformed officers stepped forward and I smelled cat. Leopard, maybe. Some kind of shifter. “When someone is pronounced dead on the scene, it means it was bad, ma’am. The Lieutenant here says your dad’s out of town. Can you reach him?” Was this his way of letting me know he knew she was a wolf, and it’d been bad enough to kill her? My mind was swimming, unwilling to accept the fact my mom was gone. There had to be a mistake. I’d just seen her a few hours ago, and she’d been fine.

Brain held me tighter. “Her dad can’t be contacted. He’s in the woods where there isn’t any cell service. I’ll see to it she’s taken care of. Thanks for the notification.”

He turned me towards my front door, and I let him walk me inside. I still didn’t believe my mom was dead. She’d been fine the last time I saw her — this had to be a mistake.

I listened as he made a few phone calls, getting people to the house. Bash was there within thirty minutes, though he took a shower and changed clothes again before he came to me. By then, Brain had hacked into something and found out my mom had been hit by a drunk driver, and had been decapitated. I was starting to believe by this point, and I was on the sofa with Brain, crying, trying to make sense of everything going through my head. I’d never lost anyone close to me before, and I didn’t truly understand how my life was about to change. I was in shock, I think, but the grieving process had already begun, and it felt as if my heart had been ripped from my chest.

Brain needed to work on the phone records, because we still had Sloane’s death to cover up. He handed me off to Bash and went to work on his laptop.

And Bash… hard-assed Bash, who never showed any emotions, held me, petted me, and kept me from spinning out of control. He let me cry, let me soak his shirt with my tears, and didn’t tell me it would be okay. The only specific things I remember him saying was, “I have you, Princess,” and, “The man who killed her will pay.” I know he said other stuff, and none of it was a lie, and nothing was empty words. Bash would never say any of the asinine things people say when they don’t know what else to say — everything happens for a reason, or the good Lord needed one of his angels home. It’s all bullshit. Some idiot human got drunk, got behind the wheel of his Hummer, and killed my mom. You can’t make sense of that, and Bash didn’t try to force sense into something so fucking senseless. He held me, he comforted me, and I’ll always love him for it.

One of the ol’ladies brought me something to take, and I didn’t even ask what it was, I just put it on my tongue and let it slide down my throat as I drank some water, and then let Bash hold me until I fell asleep. I saw Bash look at the bottle before he let her give it to me, and I trusted him to keep me safe.

I woke up on top of Bash the next morning, both of us fully clothed, on the sofa. Brain was asleep in the recliner, and we all looked at each other as the doorbell rang again.

Brain ran his hands through his hair as he walked to the front door, and Bash and I sat up, so we were side by side on the sofa.

I smelled Kayla’s mom when Brain opened the door.

“Angelica, baby, you need to come home with me, let us take care of you until we can reach your dad.” She’d brought a breakfast casserole, which told me she already knew I wouldn’t come. Still, I got the message — she didn’t approve of my being in the house alone with Bash and Brain, and I bristled.

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