Page 30 of Tiny's Testament
“Didn’t trust anyone else not to screw it up.”
“Right. Because caffeine quality’s top priority after an overdose.”
He huffs out a short laugh, the sound low and warm. “I see sarcasm survived.”
“Barely.” I take a slow sip. It’s bitter, strong, and too hot. Perfect. “You know, you could’ve gone to bed.”
“Could’ve,” he says. “But didn’t.”
I set the mug down and meet his eyes. “You shouldn’t have to babysit me.”
“I wasn’t,” he says. “I just didn’t want you waking up alone.”
The words land somewhere deep, heavy, and gentle all at once. I nod, my throat tightening. “Thank you.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t start that again.”
Peanut stirs, stretches, and pads up toward us. She jumps onto his lap, tail flicking across his chest, then grabs a piece of toast from his plate on the side table and bolts.
“Hey!” Tiny protests, laughing for real now.
I can’t help it. I laugh, too. The sound feels foreign, rusty. “Guess she’s yours, alright.”
He leans back, eyes narrowing playfully. “You taught her that.”
“I taught her class,” I smirk. “You taught her crime.”
“She’s got taste. That’s my breakfast.”
“You’ve got six more slices in the kitchen.”
He smirks. “You gonna make me go get ‘em?”
“Depends. You gonna fight your own cat for food?” That earns a soft chuckle, and something inside me loosens for the first time in days.
The sunlight shifts, falling across Tiny’s face. The kind of light that makes even tough men look human. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I went twelve rounds with my own bad decisions.”
He studies me, unreadable. “You scared me, Syv.”
“I scared myself,” I admit.
“I thought I lost you.”
I look down at my hands. The tremor’s still there, faint but real. “You almost did.”
He doesn’t say anything for a long time. Just sits there, watching me breathe.
Finally, I say what’s been clawing at me since I woke up. “I need to do this. For me.”
His brow furrows. “Do what?”
“Stay clean.”
He nods slowly. “Good.”
“No, I mean…” I draw in a breath. “Not for you. Not because I owe you, or because the club needs me stable, or because I want to prove something. I have to do it for myself. If I don’t, I’ll lose myself all over again.”
