Unexpected Company
1429 Words
Samantha
When Samantha woke the next morning, the first thing she noticed was the empty chair beside her bed.
The realization shouldn't have bothered her.
It was ridiculous that it did.
She stared at the chair for several seconds before looking away. Hospitals were full of empty chairs. People came and went all the time. Nurses changed shifts. Doctors disappeared for hours. Visitors had jobs, responsibilities, and lives waiting for them beyond hospital walls. There was absolutely no reason for her stomach to sink simply because Bjorn Davidson wasn't sitting where she had grown accustomed to finding him.
Yet the disappointment lingered.
The thought annoyed her enough that she focused on the window instead.
Morning sunlight streamed through the blinds, stretching across the floor in long golden strips. The Oklahoma sky beyond the glass was bright and clear, the kind of sky that usually made people talk about beautiful weather. Samantha couldn't remember the last time she'd paid attention to the weather. For years her life had revolved around something far less predictable than rain or sunshine. Every morning had begun with the same question.
What kind of mood is he in today?
The answer determined everything.
A good mood meant peace.
A bad mood meant tension.
A terrible mood meant walking on eggshells and praying she didn't accidentally say the wrong thing.
The strange thing was that she hadn't asked herself that question since waking up in the hospital. For the first time in years, her day wasn't being dictated by someone else's temper. The realization should have felt freeing.
Instead, it felt unfamiliar.
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.
Carla entered carrying a breakfast tray and a smile that somehow seemed genuine despite the early hour.
"Morning."
"Morning."
The nurse set the tray on the rolling table and glanced toward the empty chair.
Samantha noticed immediately.
Apparently she wasn't as subtle as she thought.
"He's at work."
Heat rushed into Samantha's face. "I didn't ask."
"Nope." Carla's smile widened. "You didn't."
Samantha groaned and dropped her head back against the pillow.
The nurse laughed as she adjusted the tray. "He owns a motorcycle shop, remember? Somebody has to actually keep the place running."
"I know."
"Besides, if it makes you feel better, he was here before sunrise."
Samantha looked up. "What?"
Carla shrugged. "Came in while you were sleeping. Checked on you. Talked to the night nurse. Left around six."
Something warm settled unexpectedly in Samantha's chest.
Not excitement.
Not happiness.
Something quieter.
The knowledge that he'd come.
The knowledge that he'd checked.
The knowledge that he'd left because he had responsibilities, not because he'd forgotten about her.
She hated how much that mattered.
Carla seemed to recognize the internal battle playing across her face because she chose not to comment further.
Instead, she checked Samantha's vitals while making casual conversation about everything and nothing. The distraction was welcome. Samantha found herself talking more than she normally would, describing the strange dreams she'd been having and complaining about hospital food. The conversation felt normal in a way she hadn't experienced in years.
Normal was becoming a dangerous thing.
Because every time she experienced it, she realized how abnormal her life had become before this.
After Carla left, Samantha worked her way through breakfast while watching people move through the hallway. Nurses came and went. Doctors stopped by neighboring rooms. Somewhere down the corridor a television blared loudly enough that someone eventually complained.
The ordinary rhythm of the hospital should have been boring.
Instead, she found it comforting.
There was something reassuring about a place where people simply did their jobs. Nobody was trying to manipulate anyone. Nobody was waiting for an excuse to start a fight. Nobody was keeping score.
The realization was still sinking in when another knock sounded at the door.
Before she could answer, the door swung open.
Tank walked in first.
The man seemed physically incapable of entering a room quietly.
He stopped beside the bed and studied her with all the seriousness of a doctor evaluating a patient.
"Huh."
Samantha blinked. "Huh?"
Tank nodded. "Definitely less dead."
A startled laugh escaped before she could stop it.
Behind him, Diesel sighed heavily. "For the love of God."
"What?" Tank asked.
"You can't greet people like that."
"She laughed."
"That's not the point."
"It feels like the point." Tank looked genuinely confused.
Diesel looked exhausted.
The exchange alone nearly made Samantha laugh again.
Bones stepped into the room next, shaking his head as though this conversation was completely predictable. "I told him not to say that."
"You absolutely did not."
"I absolutely did."
"You said maybe don't say it."
"I was being polite."
The argument continued while Rook slipped quietly into the room behind them.
Unlike the others, he looked uncomfortable.
Not nervous exactly.
Just unsure of what he was supposed to do.
Samantha immediately liked him for it.
The others seemed larger than life. Rook felt human.
The room suddenly felt crowded, but not in an unpleasant way. It reminded her of family gatherings she'd attended years ago before life became complicated. People talking over one another. Friendly arguments. Familiar teasing.
She couldn't remember the last time she'd been around a group of people who genuinely enjoyed each other's company.
Tank eventually pulled a chair closer to the bed and lowered himself into it. The metal frame groaned in protest beneath his weight, producing a sound that made everyone in the room look in his direction.
Tank frowned at the chair.
"That thing sounds expensive."
Diesel stared at him. "It's a hospital chair."
Tank nodded as though that proved his point. "Exactly."
"I don't think that word means what you think it means," Bones said.
"It absolutely does."
"No," Diesel replied. "It really doesn't."
Tank folded his arms. "You people never appreciate my wisdom."
Samantha shook her head and looked directly at Tank. "You make absolutely no sense."
Tank grinned. "Thank you."
A laugh escaped Samantha before she could stop it. "That wasn't a compliment."
Tank leaned back in his chair. "Sounded like one to me." The grin he flashed her was impossible to take seriously.
Across the room, Diesel muttered something about why he bothered trying anymore.
Bones immediately agreed.
Rook laughed so suddenly that he looked surprised by it himself, and the reaction only made everyone else laugh harder. Before Samantha realized what was happening, she found herself laughing too. Not the polite laugh she used when she wanted a conversation to end. Not the careful laugh she had learned to use around Travis when she was trying to keep the peace. This was real laughter, the kind that arrived unexpectedly and left her breathless.
The sound startled her almost as much as the men in the room.
For a moment, the conversation faded into the background as she became painfully aware of how long it had been since she'd laughed like that. Years ago, laughter had been a normal part of her life. She used to laugh with friends over dinner, with coworkers during lunch breaks, and with family during holidays. Somewhere along the way, those moments had slowly disappeared. Not all at once, but little by little, until she stopped noticing their absence.
As her relationship with Travis grew worse, laughter became something she rationed. Every joke had to be measured. Every reaction had to be considered. If he was in a bad mood, laughing at the wrong thing could start an argument. If he felt ignored, a simple conversation with someone else could ruin an entire evening. Over time, she had stopped laughing naturally because it simply wasn't worth the risk.
The realization settled heavily in her chest as she looked around the room. Tank was still arguing with Diesel about something ridiculous. Bones looked one step away from rolling his eyes for the hundredth time that morning. Rook seemed embarrassed by the attention, and yet there wasn't a single trace of tension among them. Nobody was angry. Nobody was looking for a reason to start a fight. Nobody was waiting for someone else to make a mistake.
Then Samantha noticed something else.
They weren't looking at her because they expected anything from her. They weren't waiting for her to entertain them or explain herself. If anything, they simply seemed happy to see her smiling. The kindness of that realization caught her completely off guard. Sitting in a hospital room surrounded by four bikers she barely knew, Samantha found herself feeling safer than she had in years.
That thought should have terrified her.
Instead, it felt like relief.
- Writer
