Page 19 of Stitch & Steel

Nineteen

BELLA

The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, too bright, too sterile, and nothing like the warm comfort of Gran’s kitchen.

I sat curled up in the hard plastic chair, knees to my chest, arms wrapped around myself like armor.

My hoodie smelled like pine and Logan’s cologne—like safety—but nothing could quiet the way my heart was still galloping in my chest.

Gran was behind those hospital doors. Sedated. Stable. But the weight of the night clung to me like wet clothes.

I kept seeing her—confused and alone in the dark woods. Her hair tangled with branches. Her eyes lost. It made my stomach twist.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway. I looked up to see Logan coming toward me, shoulders broad, shirt damp with sweat and worry, a steaming cup in one hand.

He crouched in front of me, his big body blocking out the rest of the world. “Black, no sugar. Like you like it,” he said, handing me the coffee.

I took it with shaking fingers. “Thanks,” I whispered.

Behind him, I saw a few of the MC guys talking to the local sheriff, some slapping each other on the back. JD’s crew, Bullet, even Rafe from Arizona. They’d ridden all night and turned this town upside down to find Gran.

Because she was one of theirs.

Because Logan made her one of his.

A lump formed in my throat.

The door opened and a man in a white coat stepped out. The doctor. Early forties, salt-and-pepper hair, clipboard in hand.

I stood so fast the coffee almost spilled. Logan’s hand was suddenly on my back, grounding me.

“She’s stable,” the doctor said gently. “Slight dehydration, mild hypothermia, and we sedated her to help her rest. No injuries, thank God.”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“But,” he added, glancing between us, “this isn’t the first sign of advanced memory loss, is it?”

My lips parted, but no words came.

“We’re seeing confusion, wandering, time displacement—clear signs of progressing Alzheimer’s,” he continued gently. “It’s time to consider next steps. She can’t live alone anymore. Or drive. I know this is a lot, but safety has to come first.”

I felt Logan stiffen beside me. His hand squeezed my waist.

The doctor glanced toward the door. “She should wake in a few hours. I suggest having a calm, honest conversation when she’s lucid.”

I nodded slowly. “We’ll talk to her. Together.”

He gave a kind smile. “She’s lucky to have you.” Then he walked off, leaving the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.

I stared at the floor, trying to breathe, trying to think. I’d known. Deep down. I’d seen the signs. But hearing it out loud, from someone with a clipboard and years of experience… it broke something in me.

“I thought I could handle this,” I whispered. “Thought I could keep her safe.”

Logan turned me into his chest and wrapped me up in his arms like I was made of glass and steel at the same time. “You did handle it. You came to me. You moved mountains for her.”

“She doesn’t even know what day it is, Logan.”

“She’s alive because of you.” His lips touched the top of my head. “And we’ll figure it out together, Bella. I promise.”

I blinked hard, trying to swallow the tears clawing their way up. “She’s going to hate not being able to live in her cabin.”

“We’ll find a way to make it okay.”

“I don’t even know where to start.”

He tipped my chin up with two fingers. “Start by not trying to carry it all on your own.”

His gaze held mine, steady and strong, and I realized I wasn’t just leaning on him—I was starting to fall into him. The man, the steel, the warmth beneath the kutte and tattoos. The protector. The storm I didn’t want to outrun anymore.

He tucked my hair behind my ear and gave me a soft smile. “Come on, darlin’. Sit with me until she wakes up.”

The morning sun filtered through the blinds in long golden slats, stretching across the pale hospital sheets and warming the room with a soft, forgiving light. The beeping machines were steady. Comforting. Familiar now, in a way I wished they weren’t.

Gran stirred just as the nurse was switching out her IV bag, her fingers twitching beneath the blanket.

I reached out instantly, brushing a cool cloth across her forehead. “Hey,” I whispered. “Welcome back.”

Her lashes fluttered, then lifted. Those eyes—so blue they rivaled the Carolina sky—blinked slowly as her focus sharpened on me. “Bella-bug?”

A breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding whooshed out. “Yeah, Gran. It’s me.”

She looked around, taking in the sterile room. “Guess I wandered off again, huh?”

I swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah, you did.”

Her mouth tugged into a sad smile. “I hate this damn disease.”

I pulled my chair closer. “Me too.”

For a long moment, we sat in silence. The nurse left quietly, giving us space.

Then Gran shifted under the covers. “You don’t need to give up your life for me, sweetheart.”

I blinked. “What?”

“You’ve already given up so much. I see the way you look out the window like you’re trying to find where you fit. You’re young, Bella. You’ve got a whole future ahead of you. Don’t feel like you’re stuck here.”

My voice cracked. “Gran, I’m not stuck.”

“You came here to help me. That’s not the same as staying because it’s what you want.”

I reached for her hand, weathered and warm in mine. “You don’t understand. Being here with you… it’s the first time in a long time I’ve actually felt like myself again. Like maybe I don’t have to keep running just to survive.”

She blinked, watching me.

“I was so afraid I’d never feel grounded again after Brendan—after the city and the chaos and everything I thought I wanted turned out to be a lie. But here? You gave me peace again. Purpose.”

Tears brimmed in my eyes. “I can’t imagine going back to Charlotte. I don’t want to.”

Gran squeezed my hand. “You sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything. I don’t want the skyscrapers and fake smiles. I want pine trees and starlight. I want coffee on the porch and thunderstorms rolling through the holler. I want to build something real here. Maybe even build it from scratch.”

She studied me for a long moment, then nodded slowly, her eyes glistening. “Well, alright then.”

I laughed through my tears. “That’s it? No lecture? No guilt trip?”

Gran gave me a small, knowing smile. “Honey, I’ve lived long enough to know when someone finds their place in the world.

You’ve found yours. And if that place just happens to include a certain leather-wearing, brooding biker with calloused hands and a soft spot for you, then I won’t stand in your way. ”

My cheeks flamed. “Gran…”

“I ain’t blind, Bella.” She winked. “I may forget the day of the week sometimes, but I haven’t forgotten how to read people. That boy looks at you like you hung the moon.”

I looked down at our hands, mine folded in hers. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby girl. And I’ve got enough savings stashed away for a full-time house aide. Someone who can help me stay here—with supervision. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

I nodded, overwhelmed by the generosity. “Thank you, Gran. For everything. For this place. For giving me a home when I didn’t know I needed one.”

Her lips twitched into a proud smile. “You found your roots, Bella. Now plant 'em deep.”

We sat like that for a long time, fingers laced, the sun climbing higher through the window. A new chapter had just begun, and I could feel it taking shape—one full of hope, of fresh starts, of mountains and motorcycles and the wild kind of love that refuses to be ignored.