Page 19 of Other Woman Drama (Content Advisory #4)

Seventeen

Of course I speak my mind. My head would explode if I kept all this bullshit to myself.

— Webber’s secret thoughts

WEBBER

My wrench slipped off the bolt for the fourth time, and I had to stop myself from throwing the goddamn thing across the room.

Angry.

I was so. Fucking. Angry .

Moreso, I was angry at myself and second-guessing every single decision I’d made in the last forty-eight hours.

My hand literally itched to pick up my phone and call her.

It’d been bad before, but now that I’d officially hurt her and made it to where she probably would never look at me again, I’d been slowly coming to a dawning realization that I’d made a split second, rash decision that would come back to haunt me.

“You need some help over there?”

I looked up at my shop hand, Denny, and shook my head. “No. Go take a lunch.”

And stop fucking looking at me and expecting me to have something for you to do.

The kid was a good kid and all, but he had to be led around by the hand.

I didn’t want to have to tell him to put kitty litter on the fuckin’ oil splatter on the floor.

I didn’t want to have to tell him that I needed him to pick up the trash that littered the floor.

I didn’t want to have to tell him that the goddamn tools needed cleaned off before they were put back into the toolbox.

And I certainly didn’t want to have to tell him, for the umpteenth time, that I didn’t want him goddamn putting the tools away that I was actively using.

“Oh, okay,” Denny said. “Would you like me to bring you anything back?”

A fifth of vodka… “No, thanks.”

A text came through on my phone.

Then a phone call.

And another text.

I ignored them all, not in any mood to hold any of my club’s hands, either.

I just wanted to be left the fuck al…

“Piers!”

I looked up from the car I was bent over, my stomach in knots and my head really fucked up, to find my mom wiggling the phone.

Fuckin’ a, man.

“It’s for you,” she sounded concerned, which instantly had my irritation melting away. “It sounds really important.”

I frowned and walked toward her, placing the phone to my ear.

“Piers,” I murmured into the phone.

“Uh, Mr. Webb, this is Dru, Silver’s neighbor.”

My stomach jolted.

Why was her neighbor calling me?

I frowned. “Dru, what’s up?”

For some reason, I couldn’t place the face, but I remembered the name. She was a nurse who worked with Chevy and Aella.

“I was coming home from work, and I was walking past Silver’s apartment door when I saw the door open.

Curiosity got the best of me and I looked inside and found Silver on the floor with a woman with red hair standing over her…

” She sounded hesitant to say the next part. “Beating her with a chair leg.”

My stomach seized.

“I called 9-1-1. The lady that was hitting her ran away, and I didn’t get a super good look at her face.

The paramedics took her to the hospital.

Since my sister is the building manager of the apartments, I was able to get your number off of her emergency contact list. You and her sister, Aella, are listed as her emergency contacts.

Though Aella wasn’t answering. So I called you next,” she explained quickly.

“She’s on her way to Dallas Memorial right now. If you care…”

If you care…

Nausea welled in my belly as I said, “Thanks, Dru.”

If you care…

I was on my bike and leaving the shop in half a minute, giving an explanation to no one as I roared out of the lot.

When I got to the hospital, I wasn’t aware of how I’d gotten there, only that I was there.

I don’t remember taking any turns. Don’t remember traffic. Hell, I didn’t even remember turning into the hospital parking lot.

I used the motorcycle parking—which was really just the front walk—and bailed, my feet tearing up the floor to the receptionist blocking entrance to everyone.

“My fiancée,” the lie came out smooth, and it sounded right as hell. “She was just brought in by ambulance. Her name is Silver Donahue.”

I managed not to choke on her last name.

Fuckin’ Barry.

The haggard-looking woman started typing on her computer, then winced before saying, “She was brought in about five minutes ago. She’s stable, but she’s in for x-rays right now, so she’ll be a bit before she’s back in her room.”

I barely contained the urge to beg her to tell me what, exactly, was wrong.

“Can you show me to her room?” I asked.

She hit the button on the door and the door slid open. “She’s in room three.”

I didn’t get upset that she wasn’t showing me. I was happy she’d let me in at all.

I charged through the hospital, my fingers itching to break things.

Instead, I called Chevy.

He answered on the first ring, sounding distracted. “Webber, what’s up?”

I gave him the rundown, which admittedly wasn’t much. “She’s in x-ray now.”

“Fuck,” he hissed. “I’m about to go into surgery, and Aella’s three hours away at a conference she has to have for work.” He paused. “She’s stable?”

“That’s what they say,” I said.

At least, that was what I was guessing, but there really was no telling because the lady hadn’t given me any information at all other than she was in x-ray, and what room she was going to be in when she was done there.

He blew out a breath. “She’s going to absolutely murder me for this, but don’t tell Aella anything. Unless things take a turn for the worse, then call. But they only have this conference once a year, and if she misses it…”

I knew.

And understood.

It also worked in my favor because I didn’t want them here.

“I’ll handle it,” I answered.

Chevy sighed. “I heard a little bit from Aella yesterday about yours and Silver’s issues. Don’t fucking hurt her, Webber. Friend or not, I’m choosing Aella. And that means I’m choosing Silver.”

That actually made me happy to hear.

“Good,” I said. “I won’t.”

At least not more than I already had…

I paced the room while I waited for her to arrive, eventually becoming overly impatient as I did.

I was just about to step out of the room and head toward the nurses I could see across the hectic room when I saw someone round the corner pushing a gurney.

I paused, my gaze going to the person on the bed, and immediately dismissing them.

Whomever it was was hurt. Bad. But they weren’t…

The black hair shifted and a familiar half a face, covered in bruises, was revealed.

And my stomach dropped.

Straight out of my belly to my feet.

“Silver,” I breathed, my feet propelling me forward. “Fuck, baby.”

The black hair once again shifted as the woman turned my way, but she didn’t open her eyes.

She couldn’t.

Because they were swollen shut, and she wouldn’t be able to open them for a while.

“Sir,” I heard said. “Please, allow me to enter the room. We need to get her settled.”

“Who is it?” Silver’s raspy voice sounded. “I don’t want any visitors.”

“It’s me,” I said, thinking that would calm her a bit, but it only seemed to agitate her more.

My belly clenched when she said, “And that includes you, Piers.”

The way she spat “Piers” would forever be ingrained in my head.

I both liked it and hated it all at the same time.

Webber was my club name, and no one but my mom called me Piers.

I liked that she felt comfortable enough to use it, even if she was saying my name like a vulgar epithet.

“Sir,” I heard said.

I looked up to find a doctor that looked vaguely familiar heading my way.

I stepped to the side so the man pushing the gurney could get in, and several nurses and one other doctor, this one a female, pushed into the room behind them.

“Piers, wait.”

I instantly dropped the doctor’s gaze and headed to Silver’s side.

“Yeah?” I asked.

“I need you to make sure my apartment door is closed.” She turned away from the sound of my voice, giving me her back as best as she could despite being hooked up to all kinds of wires.

“I don’t want my dad coming back to steal my shit after he punched me in the face and left me crying on the floor.

Oh, and if you find Cadence Moran, tell her she owes me a new chair, and she’s paying all of my medical bills. Don’t bother calling the cops.”

I gritted my teeth to force down my automatic rejection of her words, but instead chose to go calm myself down by taking care of the tasks that she’d given me.

Sure, she hadn’t realized what exact tasks she’d given me, but I’d be taking care of them all the same.

I cataloged her injuries.

Her face was a mess of bruises, blood, and debris.

Her hair was a mess, and all over the place to the point where it had to be driving her crazy.

What little I could see of her arms and hands, I could tell that she’d put up one hell of a fight.

I was steeling my spine for when I would see the rest of her.

But if I saw the rest, I wouldn’t leave.

And there were a few matters I needed to take care of first.

She needed to know that she was safe, and there was only one way to do that.

But first…

“Do either one of you have a hair tie?” I asked the nurses on either side of me.

“I do,” the doctor, who had a nametag that read “Val” on her breast pocket, said. “Here.”

I took the hair tie, then gently gathered Silver’s copious amount of hair into a bun on the top of her head.

I was careful not to pull or put the ponytail too tight, in case it hurt.

“You can leave now,” Silver said, still not looking at me.

I trailed a finger over the shell of her ear and said, “For now.”

Seeing her broken, bruised, and utterly devastated literally ripped my world apart.

I walked out of her room after she asked me to leave, and I didn’t see where I was going.

I only knew that Barry had to pay.

He may not have been the one to completely put her in that kind of state, but he sure the hell was culpable in her beating.

He might not have done the beating, but he knew who did, and he didn’t stop it.

The drive to my ex-wife’s place was short.

No traffic stopped me from making perfect time.

I pulled my bike directly into their driveway, uncaring who the hell saw what I was about to do.