Eyelids. 

Heavy. Can't open. My vision comes back in fuzzy pieces. 

The TV squawks softly.

Low light pulses around me, and the beep of machinery pierces my hearing.

Finally, I lift my eyelids then close them. I blink them open again.

Loud snoring fills my ears.

That jerks my eyes open all the way. A huge muscular man is slouched in the chair adjacent to my bed.

I'm in a hospital. My mind whirs. What am I doing here?

Memories rain down on me.

Drake. The assault. Noose.

The memory engulfs my body, zipping straight to my head. Noose’s body crawls over my mind, lighting a fire of need I never knew I had. His mouth on my sex.

My mouth on him. 

Words exchanged. Distrust. Accusation. 

Then I black out.

My head whips to this man in the chair. He’s not Noose. He's wearing a vest.

Memories of Anna come fast. Cut.

The vest is his cut. It says Road Kill MC.

It's one of Noose’s biker friends. I shut my eyes, controlling my breathing.

Where is Noose? What? I have a glucose dive, and he dumps me here with his buddy?

I'm so miserable about my bad decision-making, I can't think. 

The buddy chooses to wake up at that moment. He sits up straight, fingers attacking his eyes, and as he rubs them to wakefulness. Bright-blue eyes stare back at me in a face with stern lines, high cheekbones, and a nasty scar.

“Hey, Rose.”

Does everyone know me? 

I cross my arms, look to my left, see the waiting fruit juice, and take a sip. 

“Who are you?” 

“Snare.” 

“Your real name?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Road name's good enough for most.”

“Uh-huh.” Road name my ass. I take a cleansing breath. “Where's Noose?”

“Jail.”

“What?” I yell, my sheet falling to reveal the beautiful hospital gown. 

He sits up straight, eyes to the door. “Chill, okay? Noose wanted me to look after you until he made bail. I can't do that with you flipping out and shit.”

Flipping out and shit? My mouth drops open, catching-flies style. “Why is Noose in jail?” Do I want to know?

“They saw your neck. Assumed shit, as usual.” His eyes rise to the ceiling, and my hand touches my sore neck. I let my fingers drop.

“Noose thinks he hurt you,” Snare says in a low voice.

“He didn't do this,” I say, indicating my healing throat. 

Snare pegs me with his brilliant-azure gaze. “Who did?”

Not going there. “Somebody else.”

His inky brows come together. “Uh-huh. Why don't you tell your friend Snare, and he'll take care of the little woman-beater problem you have.”

No way. I'm not going in debt to some biker gang when I have another one literally gunning for me already.

I shake my head, which makes me dizzy. “No.”

He lifts his shoulders. “Got all day, girl. Waiting on Noose.”

Whatever. “Will he-he be set free?”

“Now that you're awake, you can say he didn't do that damage.”

I nod. I might not want to take it farther with Noose. 

God, do I want to take it farther? 

But he's not going to hang for Drake. Nobody is. Ever again. Including Charlie.

Shit. 

“Charlie,” I say in a stricken whisper.

Snare leans forward. “Who?”

My eyes slide to him. “Uh, my nephew.” My gaze shifts to the clock: straight-up noon. 

“Is it Saturday?” I ask.

Snare nods. “Yup.” His eyes travel to my cell. “Phone's been blowing up with texts all morning.”

A breath wheezes out of me, and I fall back against the pillow, groaning.

I slide the cell across the little rolling tray and briefly scroll through my texts. My fingers stumble over the dummy text Noose sent, and my teeth click together.

Great. 

I keep moving.

Honey haven't heard from you.

From Mom.

Phone us back.

Missed call from Dad.

I can't get out of calling them back. I hit the little receiver symbol, and Dad picks up on the first ring.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Princess.” I feel guilt over the relief that fills his voice. 

Snare is paying careful attention. I put my forearm over my stomach and turn in the opposite direction.

“Listen, I had an episode,” I say in a low voice.

“Oh God. Where are you, Rose?” Dad’s voice is commanding, taking charge of the situation.

“I'm at Kent Valley.”

“You didn't have your protein.”

I think of Noose's cum. I kind of had some protein. Oh God. I shut my eyes, wanting to crawl in a hole somewhere.

“Yeah. I sort of forgot.”

“ʻSort ofʼ doesn't cut it, Rose.”

“My friend got me here.”

“Some friend,” he huffs. 

You have no idea.

“The hospital see your tattoo, honey?” Mom asks in the background.

Dad's got the call on speaker.

“Yes.” 

Their silence is touchable relief. 

“Good,” Dad says. “Charlie's fine. May be on a sugar high for a week.”

The first smile of the day breaks across my face. “That's great, Dad. I'll be getting out of here soon and be right over.”

“Take your time, Rose. Daddy and I don't want you pushing it. You know how weak you become after an episode―” 

“I'm fine. I've got a glucose drip, Mom.”

I hear her sigh. 

“Okay. We'll see you soon?”

I nod, realize she can't see me, then answer, “Yes.”

“Love you, Rose,” Dad says, but I still hear the reprimand in his voice.

I've been stupid. 

Lust crushed my IQ like a car crash.

“Love you too, Dad.”

I swipe the cell and pop it onto the tray.

“Nice family,” Snare says.

I glare at him. 

His smile fades. “What's your problem?”

What's not my problem? The Road Kill MC doesn't know about Drake. They don't know that much. Noose has targeted me for God knows what reason. 

Pussy, he'd say. 

I suck in a shaky inhale. Right. Sex.

Or maybe I'm just another sister destined to be used up by a biker.

Not this girl. 

* * *

“My problem is glucose,” I admit in a flat voice.

Snare's eyebrows jerk up. “Yeah?” He slaps his jean-clad thighs. “They wouldn't tell me dick.” He shrugs. “Nurses weren't too thrilled to have my ass in here.”

I can’t help but laugh. Snare's just as blunt as Noose. 

I study him. Maybe not. 

His cut says sergeant-at-arms, abbreviated. I guess there are roles to fill within the biker gangs. I'd never wanted to know too much when Anna was gushing about Drake in the beginning.

In the end she wasn't gushing; Anna was hiding. 

I exhale in a rush, looking at my hands.

Snare asks, “What's that mean? Glucose?”

“I need to eat really regularly. Protein-based stuff.” My face heats. “If I get too low in my sugars, I can sort of noodle-out.” I look up, and his brows are together. The scar across his face ripples as he scrunches his nose. “I’ll pass out.”

He snorts. “Scared the piss outta Noose.”

Doubt that. Probably just wanted to get my ass out of there. But he did avert disaster. “I appreciate him taking me here.”

I knot my hands together. Not knowing what to say.

“He likes you.”

I jerk my head toward him, shaking it softly. “No, he said, we're just―”

Getting off. “Casual.”

Snare grunts. “Uh-huh. Whatever you say.”

I nod my head vigorously. “Yeah, I do.”

“So what do you do now?” he asks, changing the subject

“If my sugars are good, they'll release me.”

“Seems simple.”

I nod. “Usually.”

Simple stops as Noose walks in, with a nurse at his heels. 

“Hey!” she says, nipping at him.

I can't contain my smile. He whirls, and she bounces off his chest, stumbling backward. 

His muscular chest.

He catches her arm, steadying her. 

“Relax, Nurse”―his eyes grab at her nametag―“Bethany.”

Wide eyes glare up at him. “This girl is under my care. I need to assure her vitals are perfect.”

A smile curls Noose's lips. “I can vouch for her vitals.”

Oh. My. God. My face bursts into flames. 

Nurse Bethany turns to me. 

“I know him,” I say in a choked voice.

Boy, do I. 

Noose turns to stare at me, and the blush I feel deepens. How could I ever think I could walk away from him?

He's a force of nature. No tornado, erupting volcano, or tsunami could hold a candle to Noose. 

He leaves Nurse Bethany in a daze and walks toward my bedside, giving an almost imperceptible nod in Snare's direction.

Noose leans against my bed and takes my hand. “How you feeling?”

Now that you're here? Wet.

I swallow. Not a good reply, Rose. “Better.”

Nurse Bethany comes over, making a wide berth around Noose. 

I flip my palm over, and she sticks my finger. I wince, and Noose gives her a look of contained thunder. 

“I'm taking her sugars, not that it is any of your concern,” she tells him with a sniff.

He looks at me. “Everything about Rose is my concern.”

Oh God. 

The nurse huffs dismissively, finishes with my pulse and breathing, and jots some notes down after looking at what's gone into my body and what my heart's doing.

“You look good.”

“Yeah,” Noose agrees, eyes at half-mast.

I shut my eyes so I don't have to look at Nurse Bethany's expression.

“I'll have the doctor sign you out,” she says slowly as my face burns, “then you're free to go.”

I pop open my eyes, feeling a sudden urgency to use the bathroom, run a comb through the rat's nest of my hair, and brush the rug off my teeth.

“Okay,” I say. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

Her eyes narrow on Noose and Snare. “Would you give this young woman a moment?”

The men share a sheepish glance, and as they move toward the door, a relieved exhale slips out.

Nurse Bethany watches the door swing closed and hands me a card.

It has a domestic abuse hotline on it.

My shame breathes to hot life again. “It's not like that. Noose hasn't hurt me.”

“Noose?” she asks. 

Her disdain hangs between us. 

“He will.” Her footsteps ring as she charges out of my room. 

I finger the glossy card, wondering how my life slid into chaos in three days. 

Or maybe it's been headed that direction for a long time.