Page 41 of Bad Luck, Hard Love (Heaven’s Rejects MC #6)

“I’m not sure I’m following you,” Thor remarks. “Are you saying your wife and V’s wife coordinated all of this?”

“Sure did,” he smiles. “Our home base is in Texas, but lucky for you, we were in the area handling some club business of our own.”

“Though I am not happy you roped my fucking sister in tracking V, I am damn glad that you did. Had you not, she wouldn’t have reached out to Lindsey, who brought the entire Black Hoods cavalry to bail your asses out,” Raze adds. “We’ll be talking about that later, asshole.”

“Noted, Prez. I can’t believe we’re alive because of Presley.”

Karma's grin widens. “Never underestimate a pissed-off postpartum woman with connections. When Presley called Lindsey, asking if we could help because in her words ‘My husband would never let his phone die and my brother is an asshole who managers to send my husband into the thick of shit and never tell me’, no offense, Raze’, our old ladies put their heads together faster than we could blink.”

“None taken,” Raze grumbles. “She's not wrong.”

I find myself staring at these men—these strangers who risked their lives for people they'd never met. The gravity of their sacrifice washes over me.

“Why?” I ask. “Why would you do that for us?”

Judge steps forward, his weathered face serious. “Because that's what family does. And in our world, family extends beyond blood. The Heaven’s Rejects have done a lot of good for their people and their community. We can get behind that.”

“Plus,” Priest adds with a slight smile, “Lindsey would have castrated all of us if we'd said no. That woman's scarier than any rival club.”

“She’s as ruthless as us, thanks to her uncle,” Karma says, nodding toward Judge.

“Lindsey needs to be to put up with your ass.”

The room erupts in low chuckles. These men who deal in violence and brotherhood are laughing about being afraid of their wives. There's something beautifully human about it.

“How's the bastard?” Thor asks.

The mood in the room shifts instantly. Raze's expression darkens, and I feel Thor's body tense beneath mine.

“Secured,” Raze says simply. “Alive but wishing he wasn't.”

“And Ace?”

“Dead,” Karma answers matter-of-factly. “Caught three bullets to the chest during the firefight. Not exactly sad about it.”

“And the survivors from Vegas?”

“The older members got a choice—face justice or disappear. Most chose to disappear. The younger guys, the ones who were just following orders, they're being given a chance to prospect with other chapters. Clean slate, but they'll be watched.”

“What about Marcus?” I ask, remembering the prospect who tried to help us.

“Found him in a ditch outside Vegas. Ace's handiwork. Kid's alive, but barely. He's at another hospital. One of our prospects is over there with him to keep me updated.”

The guilt in my chest twists tighter. Another person hurt because of me. Because of my choices.

“Stop,” Thor says quietly, reading my expression. “Don't take that on. Marcus made his choice to help us. Ace made his choice to punish him for it. None of that's on you.”

“The kid's got heart,” Judge adds. “We offered him a spot with the Black Hoods when he's healed up. Fresh start, new family.”

“He accepted?”

“Faster than we expected,” Karma grins. “Can’t blame him. Vegas chewed him up and spit him out. Austin may be more his speed.”

“Austin?” I ask, realizing just how little I know about this world I've been dropped into. “That's where you're based?”

“Born and raised there,” Karma says with unmistakable pride. “Best damn barbecue you'll ever taste and enough trouble to keep life interesting.”

“Speaking of trouble,” Raze interjects, his expression growing serious as he turns to Thor. “We need to discuss what happens next. With Roberts.”

The room goes silent. I feel Thor's heartbeat quicken beneath my palm.

“That's Charlotte's call,” Thor says, leaving no room for argument. “When she's ready.”

Raze studies me. “Fair enough. But we can't keep him where he is indefinitely.”

“How long?”

“A week. Maybe two before we need to make decisions. No pressure, darlin'. But the clock is ticking.”

I nod, swallowing against the tightness in my throat. A week to decide the fate of the man who spent years destroying me piece by piece.

Everyone in this room has risked everything for me.

V nearly died. Ratchet took a bullet to the neck.

Thor...my eyes trace the bandages visible beneath his hospital gown, evidence of what he endured trying to save me.

They risked everything for someone they didn’t know, to protect and save me from the horrors Terrance had planned for me.

I don’t need a week. I don’t even need a second.

I made my decision a very long time ago.

I clear my throat, surprising even myself with what comes out next. “As soon as everyone is released from the hospital, end it. I want to be there.” No one argues.

Raze gives a single, solemn nod. “We'll make the arrangements.”

One by one, the men file out, leaving with promises to return tomorrow. The room feels suddenly larger, emptier without their imposing presence.

“You're the bravest person I know,” Thor says once we're alone, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on my arm. “Most people would be running as far from this life as possible after what you've been through.”

“I'm not brave,” I correct him, the words coming out rougher than intended. “I'm angry. There's a difference.”

“Is there?” Thor's thumb traces across my knuckles. “Because from where I'm sitting, choosing to face your demons instead of running from them sounds pretty fucking brave to me.”

I shift slightly, wincing as the movement pulls at tender muscles. “I'm tired of running. Tired of looking over my shoulder. Tired of him having power over me even when he's not in the room.”

“And after? When it's done?”

“Freedom with zero regrets about what it’s taken to get here. Freedom that, I hope, you’ll share with me.”

Thor's arm tightens around me, careful to avoid my bruises.

“Freedom with you,” he says. “I like the sound of that.”

The gravity of his words hangs between us, thick with promise. I reach up, tracing the outline of his split lip with my fingertip. Even battered and broken, he's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

“I don't know what happens next,” I admit. “I've spent so long just trying to survive that I never thought about what living might look like.”

“We figure it out together.” His hand captures mine, pressing a kiss to my palm that sends warmth cascading through my veins. “Day by day. No rush.”

A soft knock interrupts us. The door cracks open to reveal Hanna, the medic who helped free me from Terrance's restraints. She's traded her leathers for scrubs, but her stare is just as sharp.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she says, stepping into the room with a small duffel bag. “Thought you might want some real clothes. Hospital gowns aren't exactly fashion-forward.”

“Thank you,” I say, genuinely touched by the gesture. “For everything.”

Hanna shrugs, setting the bag on the chair by Thor’s bedside. She starts to leave, but I call out to her.

“Are you with the other club? The Black Hoods?”

“Nah,” she laughs. “I served with Hero. I’m a doctor here at the house. I ride with a veteran MC. Hero reached out when he realized how bad shit was going to get.”

“My club’s vice president,” Thor adds in.

“He stick around or did he take off?” Hanna asks.

Thor shrugs. “He hasn’t stopped by.”

“Tell him I said hi when you see him next. Been a long time since he reached out. Damn good to hear him doing so well. I always worried he’d be a statistic like so many other of our brothers and sisters in arms who saw combat.”

A Code Blue page goes off over the loudspeaker. “Gotta run. I’ll swing back by after my rounds to check on you both.”

She's gone before either of us can respond.

You hungry? It's melted, but still chocolate.”

I eye the sad puddle of brown liquid. “That looks absolutely disgusting.”

“Hospital gourmet,” he grins, scooping up a spoonful and holding it toward me. “Come on, live dangerously.”

“I think I've done that enough for one lifetime. You should rest,” I start to disentangle myself from his side.

His arm tightens fractionally around me. “Stay.”

Wrapped in bruises and hospital sheets, in silence and survival, I let myself breathe.

And even if the peace only lasts tonight, it’s enough.