From Love

Stuck

Six weeks had passed since I was attacked, and my arm was still bound in a cast and sling. The physical pain was manageable, but the emotional wounds ran deep, as I seemed to be paranoid and constantly on edge. I found myself smoking a lot more, just to keep my mind at ease, and I even bought a gun, making sure to carry it everywhere with me. Jax had assumed his role as club president, which was a change that brought with it a new set of responsibilities that called for him to be gone a lot more. Gemma's face had healed from her injuries, but the emotional scars were evident in the hardened look in her eyes.

As for Clay, he was still hanging around Teller-Morrow like a dark cloud. His injuries still affected him, as he moved slower than before, and had to carry an oxygen tank around with him. He was physically unable to ride, so he was constantly being driven around by Juice in the cargo van. He had moved out of Gemma's house and now lived in an apartment somewhere in charming. He stayed to himself, mostly, but his presence was a nagging reminder of the violence and betrayal that changed everything.

New faces had joined the club... nomads named Frankie Diamonds, Greg the Peg, and Gogo. They were cool for the most part. Respectful, helpful when needed, and stayed out of the way. I didn't have any problems with them. Nor did any one else.

As of late, Charming's surrounding areas had been rocked by a series of home invasions. The first break-in happened just two weeks after my release from the hospital. At first, we thought it was a one time incident, but then more followed. Each time, the intruders targeted homes on the outskirts of town, stealing valuables and sometimes roughing up the occupants.

It seemed like Every morning, the local news reported on the latest break-in, urging residents to stay vigilant and secure their homes. We were all on edge, wondering who would be next. Jax and the club were trying to figure out who was behind these attacks, but so far, they had no solid leads. For a while, we thought it was the Niners, but the club pressed them about it, and found out it wasn't them. So they were completely stumped.

Speaking of the Niners, Polo had finally settled in at the clubhouse, proving to be an invaluable asset with his mechanical skills. He had been hired, and kept mostly to himself, but his reliability had quickly earned him the club's trust. Every now and then, he'd speak to me in passing, and share a few words of encouragement, which meant more than he probably realized.

Presently, I was sitting at the doctors office with mama beside me, as my support system. We were here for a follow up appointment, hoping for some good news about my arm. Being bound to this cast was depressing, and did nothing to help me forget about the attack. I wanted to be free of it, so I wouldn't have to look at it every day and I could at least try to move past what had happened to me.

Finally, Dr. Cross walked in with a kind smile on her face. She was a middle aged black woman with neatly French braided dreadlocs, and a reassuring demeanor. She glanced at my chart, then looked up at me.

"How are we feeling today, Elise?" She asked with a warm smile.

"I'm doing okay." I replied, trying to sound upbeat, despite feeling everything but. "Just really hoping to get this cast off soon."

Dr. Cross nodded, understanding my impatience. "Let's take a look, shall we?"

She carefully examined my arm, her touch gentle but thorough. I winced a few times, as my arm was still somewhat tender. Mama watched closely, and I could see the concern in her eyes.

"You've made good progress." Dr. Cross said after a few moments. "The bones have healed well, but there's still some weakness in the muscles. I can see you're still in a bit of pain as well, so I'd like to keep the cast on for another week or two, just to be safe."