On a Scale, How Bad?

Savannah

It hurts. It really fucking hurts.

Darrion coming in through Damon’s door, I can feel anger rolling off the angel at my side.

Surprisingly, it’s Daxon that jumps Darrion’s ass before Damon can even open his mouth to sneer whatever at his eldest brother.

“What the fuck took you so long? She’s in pain!” Daxon kicked off the wall, coming to Darrion’s chest in a big dog to bigger dog fight.

Eye to eye, they stare each other down.

“I had to work on Grave before I could tend to Savannah. She broke his nose, he took sixteen stitches. She split his lips down the middle, he lost three teeth.

“Has a separated chest plate I’m sure from her kick to it. He probably has internal bleeding but I wouldn’t know for sure yet. She’s not even fucking red in the face!”

Daxon huffed but stepped out of his way, going on to mumble out how I’m not red in the face because he took so long.

Damon patted the cool rag to my forehead before checking the heated one on my knee.

Darrion came to my side of the bed, pulling on gloves and a flashlight to shine in my eyes.

“I don’t have a concussion.”

His body weight shifted to the bed, making my knee dip and inciting a cry of pain at the action. My back arched and my eyes squeezed shut.

“Goddamn it, Darrion! Watch it!”

Damon held me down, shushing in my ear and brushing the hair that tucked under me.

“Savannah, on a scale from one to ten, one being nothing and ten being the worst, how bad is it?”

Damon pulled my bottom lip out from my teeth, kissing it before sneering at Darrion how it was obviously a ten.

I managed out a shake of my head to tell him ~no~. This was bad, but not the worst.

“Maybe a three,” I lied.

The pain was making me sweat and sent chills to dance along my skin. I just didn’t want them to know I was really a frail old lady on the inside.

The Henley boys, at the same time, repeated my number in disbelief.

I whimpered and opened my eyes.

Darrion did not look happy with me.

“A three, huh? Okay, so this—”

He pushes two of his fingers on my upper thigh and dragged it down to the bottom of it, lighter than a feather, but it still makes me gasp and spill a colorful assortment of curse words his way.

Darrion, now back to Dr. Dickhead.

“So that didn’t hurt? Or would you like to give me an honest answer so I can examine you?”

Damon held my hand, dabbing my forehead like I was in labor.

“I want it known, I do not like you,” I growl and try to scoot up but fail miserably when I hiss and stop.

“It is known,” he rebutted.

“It might hurt, a little worse than a three. Just, maybe, a little more. Not a ten.”

I bite through my teeth as Dr. Dickhead bends down and looks my knee over, repositioning it at an angle and using pillows to keep it there.

Damon, kissing the side of my head.

Daxon, standing behind Darrion like a brooding boss.

“Bruising is already showing, I don’t know if anything is fucked in there without X-rays,” Darrion sighs.

“What does that mean? She need a hospital?” Damon’s hold on my hand tenses.

“We could wait it out. A natural knee joint is composed of three compartments. The medial compartment”—Darrion pointed it out and dumbed it down for the two newbies in the room—“the inner side of the knee, the lateral compartment, the outer side of the knee, and the patellofemoral compartment, underneath the kneecap.

“During a total knee replacement all three compartments of the knee are replaced. There are four artificial components that compose a total knee replacement implant: a tibial component, femoral component, patellar component, and a plastic spacer.

“I can’t see any of it so I won’t be able to see if it’s fucked. With pain management and helping the swelling go down, I’ll see where it’s at in twenty-four hours.

“To do that, she needs a brace, an actual knee cushion, and no weight on it in that time. I can help with the pain but that’s it. I don’t have any of the other shit she needs.”

Darrion started riffling through his doctor’s bag for, I’m sure, a bottle of most likely morphine.

“Percy. He can bring my stuff. He, he will know where it is.”

Daxon moves around the room, going to the back corner where my jacket was thrown off in a mad dash to get naked and jump on Damon’s dick like a pogo stick for my vagina.

Pulling out my phone, he holds it to Damon, who puts in my code, which I didn’t know he knew.

Going through my contacts, he gives me an amused look when he sees Percy in my phone as “grand master P. I. G. L to the E and down to the T.”

Hitting call, Dane walks in right as Damon puts Percy on speaker, with him answering on the third ring.

“Finally done with your sex-athon? Here I thought you would at least spend the weekend getting your flower garden the turn down service. Biker style.”

He laughed, I laughed.

The boys, however, didn’t even crack a smile.

A laugh went off in the background that I knew to be his lover boy, Quinn.

“Hey Savannah, how are you and that fine-ass man of yours?”

Rushing my words, I make sure to get ahead of this.

“Percy, Quinn, you are on speaker phone with the biker princes all listening in. We are fine. He is still fine as hell, I was getting the turn down service, ten gold stars, I will definitely be back for the servicing. I had to hit pause, I had some Grave work to handle.”

It was a lame joke but it still made me laugh.

“Are you okay?” Percy’s concern was now front and center.

“Yeah, I’m fine. You know me, I can han—OW!! That fucking hurt, you dickhead!”

Darrion gave me the shot to numb my knee up.

“Van? What’s going on?”

I can hear Percy sitting up and the rustle of blankets getting tossed back.

“I’m sorry to disrupt your personal time, Piglet, but I need my brace, my meds, some clothes, and my knee cushion.”

Percy took a deep breath.

“What happened? Did you crash on your bike?”

I could hear him start to tremble.

“Percy, calm down. I really am okay. I didn’t crash on the bike. I just…I hurt my knee, I got in a tiny little itty bitty…cage fight.”

“What? Did you just say cage fight? Savannah, please tell me I misheard you.”

“We promised never to lie to each other. So…I can’t. But I’m okay. Not even a scratch. If this fight was a bra size, it’s still in the junior section with Disney channel characters on it.

“Can you get that stuff bagged up for me? I can ask one of the guys to come get it since you have company over. I’m sorry for bothering you.”

I start to feel guilty for interrupting them.

He has spent so much time at my side, and now when he finally gets time to himself, here I am like the needy goddess I have turned into.

“No. No, I’ll bring it to you. I’ll stay with you.”

I held my breath, trying to tell my best friend in the whole world, ~no~.

He can’t stay here with me.

Not in biker country with Lucien out for Madis's blood and freshly pissed off.

Not with them being so homophobic.

Not with Quinn.

Not now.

“Percy, you can’t. I…Damon and I are endgame, and I’m becoming his Luna. I’m going through trials from the club. You can’t come to biker country yet.

“I just pissed off the king with my win and…I don’t trust your safety here. I can’t risk him trying to hurt you or Quinn for something he is being a bitch about getting over. Please Percy, do you understand?”

I can feel the tension rise in the room.

“I…I will get it ready for you. But I want to Facetime before you go to sleep. I want to see you’re okay. Have you told dad? He’s downstairs.”

My eyes grow ten sizes as I realize there is no way Uncle Jonah will let my meds, my brace, and my knee cushion go unnoticed.

“Errr…just get the bag ready and hand him the phone, please.”

I push a hand through my hair and let my fingers latch on at the roots to give some swift and not-so-gentle tugs.

The patter of Percy moving through his room and probably putting on pants.

The tap of his feet on the stairs and the sound of the TV coming in louder make a ball form in my stomach.

“It’s Van, she wants to talk to you.”

The handoff of the phone and Uncle Jonah’s voice comes through the speaker.

“Vannah? What did you do?”

This makes the guys chuckle.

I give them the stink-eye.

“Nothing! Why would you naturally assume that?”

My uncle wastes no time in telling me he wasn’t born yesterday and he knows me far too well to not assume such a thing.

“Well, I didn’t do anything! I just wanted to call and say hi and I love you. Jeez.”

My uncle snorted.

“Sure, I love you too. Now are you going to tell me what you did?”

I groan and roll my eyes.

“I thought it was my right to be seen as innocent until proven guilty. Deputy sheriff, sir.”

My uncle lets out a cackle, one that sounds so happy and cheerful.

One I haven’t heard in so long.

“Vannah, what’s going on?”

Looking at Damon, I bite the bullet.

“I am fine. I didn’t do anything illegal. I was calling to see if...you would mind terribly if...I spent the weekend with Damon.”

My Uncle Jonah sighs, groaning into the phone. I’m sure rubbing a hand down his face.

“Where at?”

“Well, at his house. In his room.”

My uncle lets out another groan.

“I appreciate that you called and asked. Normally you do whatever and I’m left with punishing you. This is a mature step in adulthood.”

I don’t say anything, waiting for his answer.

It’s true that I follow the ~it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission~ more than I probably should.

“Why is Percy getting your brace? Is something wrong?”

I hate lying.

I. Hate. It.

“No, nothing’s wrong. I’m fine. I just need it.”

My Uncle Jonah doesn’t let it go.

“Why Savannah?”

I hit my fist on my forehead to punish myself for what I’m doing.

I know better than to lie.

I hate doing it.

“Uncle, I’m going to be alone with Damon in his room. My knee may be used in some ways I haven’t tested out. I might need the brace and cushion after we’re done.”

My uncle raises his voice in an, “Alright, alright! I don’t want to know all that.”

I hit my forehead again. Harder.

I shouldn’t be lying.

Not to the two people that have literally been at my deathbed and held my hand as I recovered from my Armageddon.

If anyone deserves nothing but the whole truth from me, it’s my uncle and cousin.

“I want you checking in with me. Sunday you’re home by dinner. Promise me you won’t be at the bar getting drunk? Stay out of Lucien’s way, do not poke the bull.

“What we talked about doesn’t get brought up. Damon’s room, away from any fight I’m sure you will find yourself jumping into.”

He knows far too well, doesn’t he?

“I promise I will not get in a fight from this moment on. This weekend will be consisting of me in bed with Damon and TV, snacks and relaxing. Luci isn’t invited.

“And I will not get drunk, the hangover last time nearly killed me. I can still hear the Johnny Cash playing.”

My uncle makes a throaty sound like a laugh that never made it to its evolved self.

“I love you, baby girl. Have a happy not-your-birthday day. “

“I love you too. Thank you, Uncle Jonah.”

Hanging up the phone, I want to scream from the bottom of my lungs a loud: “Fuck you, Lucien Henley!”

I want to make the biker king’s face look like Grave’s. I want to be the one to punish him for all the shit he has caused in my life.

“I’ll go get it.” Daxon leaves the room.

Darrion heads out after him.

Dane coming to the couch and plopping down, Damon sniffing at my neck.

“Can I ask you something, Van?”

Dane fidgets with his hands on his lap.

“Yeah? You can always talk to me.”

Dane looks pale.

Sickly pale.

“I didn’t know Percy was actually gay. I thought that was just a rumor.”

“Percy isn’t gay. He’s bisexual. He likes guys and girls,” I corrected him, waiting for the question.

“Oh…”

“Dane, what’s the question?”

His eyes drop to the floor.

~What’s going on with you, sweet boy?~

“How did you find out he was bi?”

That wasn’t the question he was going to ask. I could tell he pulled back.

Damon was coiling beside me like all of his muscles wanted to start flexing.

“Before, I would come for the summers. We were thirteen, I got in some trouble. My punishment was to clean Percy’s room. Changing his sheets, I found ~Playboy~ and ~Playgirl~ magazines under his mattress.

“I didn’t want him to feel awkward or anything so I asked him to come to his room, I showed him what I found, and asked him if he wanted me to put them back where I found them.

“I told him nothing would ever change him as my family, as my best friend. It doesn’t matter what gender turns him on.”

Dane stared back in awe, looking at me like I was Wonder Woman.

Just like Morgan.

“Who uses magazines anymore?” Damon cut the tension.

“Yeah, right? Hey, are you two hungry? I’ll go make some food.” Dane ran out of the room.

~He has more questions.~

~But he isn’t ready to ask them.~

“What was that your uncle was saying? That thing you two talked about?”

Damon pulls us down a different path.

“Angel, I’m going to state something. It’s the truth, I don’t know how much you know about it, but we have to find out either way.”

Damon nods, his Adam’s apple bobs.

“My uncle told me that my mom was best friends with your mom, and she was Luci’s step-sister. My grandmother is his step-mom. And my dad was his president when they had a gang together. That Luci was his vice president, that they were friends.”

Damon’s flawless features go unmoving.

He knew then.

“What else do you know?”

I hiss out the ~else~ to show I know he knows and now I know.

~Spill the damn beans, Damon.~