Gage

by Jessica Joy

  “Nonsense Al, ‘course it is. I just gotta make ye see through all the beer and leather is all,” he says cheerily. To anyone overhearing him it sounds like another of his jokes, or an annoyingly upbeat comment, but I can hear the undertone of seriousness, of resolve, in his words and feel the subtle tightening of his hold on me as we reached the doors.

  Gage is determined to make me find my home again.

  My calm tone does more to get through to her in this moment than yelling and screaming ever could. Tessa looks at me, like she’s only truly seeing me for the first time, and maybe she is. In the months since I’ve been with her again, she’s been wrapped up in her new little family and finally getting settled into her new life, and rightly so. I couldn’t be happier for her, she deserves all of it, but while she’s been building her new life, I think she has been holding onto this fantasy of us all being one big happy family. She has this picture in her head of all of us, She and Sawyer, Evan, me, and maybe even Gage all sitting around the dinner table on Saturday night for pizza. Everyone smiling and laughing, being that perfect little hallmark channel family with auntie and uncle over to visit.

  As great as that all might sound and look in her dreams, it’s just not the reality we have, nor will ever achieve at the rate we’re going. This isn’t my home; it never has been. Maybe at one point it could have been, and if I’m really honest with myself, it was starting to feel like home, like somewhere I belonged. Gage’s accident stole my last shred of hope for control. Any security or comfort I had been feeling fled with his memories and left me waiting for a train that isn’t coming. It’s not his or anyone else’s fault, well other than the fucker that did this to him of course, it’s just the hand we’ve all been dealt. There is no use in me being angry or bitter about it, but I can’t sit and pine after a past that’s dead.

  Does that mean I’m going to run and leave my sister to her little dream? No, I’m done running, I’m done playing the victim in the universe’s cruel little game. I’m going to stay and do what I can to get Gage back to his old cheeky self, stay and watch my admittedly adorable nephew grow, stay and help the others find their happiness. I can’t take another blow, I can’t take another loss, to finally find my happiness, my home, and watch it get ripped away from me again. I won’t. I’ll find my joy in watching my family, my sister, finally finding hers. And I’ll do everything in my power to help her keep it.

  “Lexi, I…” Tessa starts to say, her voice thick with emotion, but she is thankfully cut off by the ding of the elevator doors attempting to close as we just stare at each other. Good, I don’t think I am ready to hear whatever it is she just realized. We both need time, time and space right now. Before she can start up again I slap the doors back open and make my way into the main room of the loft. As I round the massive kitchen island, I see Gage hobbling off down the hall toward his room, the tight set of his shoulders and jerky movements all but screaming his annoyance.

  I immediately round on Sawyer, who is sitting at the large dining table angrily stabbing at his lunch. I close the distance between us ‘til I am looming over him as he hate-chews the bite he just shoved in his face a second ago with entirely too much force.

  “Do I even want to know?” I ask, attempting to sound calm but I know there’s an annoyed edge to my tone.

  “The bastard refuses to listen to reason, stubborn bog-trodding, clover-eating, paddie motherfucker,” Sawyer grumbles, not looking up at me as he continues to pout and abuse what’s left of his lunch.

  “Awesome, super helpful. Thanks for that,” I sigh, smacking him on the shoulder. “Go help your lady with the bags,” I tell him as I head down to my wing of the loft.

  As I reach Gage’s door, I find him standing in the middle of the room with his shirt tangled around his head as he tries to pull it off while still wearing his sling, littering the room with a string of curses in a way only a biker can. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at the ridiculous figure he cuts as he spins in a little circle and the string of curses under his breath keep flowing, his accent so heavy I can hardly understand him.

  He really is too cute and too damn stubborn for his own good.

  Kicking my shoes off before stepping onto the carpet of the bedroom, I pad my way into the room and over toward him. His back is to me when I reach him and his elbow is sticking up at an odd angle, his grey tee hopelessly tangled around his head. I have no idea how he managed to even get it up there but he’s special that way. The muscles of his back tense and he instantly stills when I gently place a palm against the small of his back. For a moment I’m worried he will pull away, continue his ranting, but after I feel him take a deep breath, the muscles beneath my hand relax and his arm slowly lowers from over his head.

  “Hey there big man, need a hand?” I ask, gently caressing his back.

  Thankfully he can’t see me as I let a soft smile cross my lips, taking a moment to let myself enjoy the tattooed expanse of his back. Skimming my fingers up his spine, I watch the slight jump of the muscles under my touch and how his colorful tattoos dance with the movement. Realizing I’m taking entirely too long I shake myself from my overly familiar thoughts and reach up to untangle him from his shirt. After several tries and a few more than slightly awkward adjustments I manage to free him from his shirt and untangle his sling, helping him out of it.

  Once he’s free, he turns and finally looks at me. It takes everything in me not to look down and take in his gloriously naked chest as he stands entirely too close to me in nothing but his worn denim jeans. The little loops of silver in his nipples taunt me to look down at them, to reach up and tease them the way I know he loves. He stares down at me, the intensity of his gaze is a palpable weight over me as I meet his eyes. Frustration is still radiating from his hulking form as he looms over me. Refusing to back down, I fist my hands in the soft fabric of his shirt that I’m still clutching, as if it can ground me and keep me from getting swept away in the intensity of his gaze.

  The air crackles with electricity, the weight of everything left unsaid bearing down between us. The intensity and frustration boils over and morphs into something decidedly more heated as he continues to hold me captive with his startling blue eyes.

  “Lex,” he breathes, so softly I'm not sure if I actually heard it or just wished it.

  Before I can convince myself it’s just my imagination, and the hope in my stupid heart that refuses to die, I press up onto my tip toes and press my lips to his.

  I’m not really sure what I was expecting, maybe one of those miserably awkward middle school kisses where you just press your lips to the other persons and leave them there ‘til someone recoils in fear. The last thing I would have ever expected was for Gage to come to life the instant my lips touch his and take over. A growl rumbles from deep in his chest before our lips fully connect and his good hand comes up to caress my face, his long fingers sliding backward to tangle into my hair. His grip is commanding but still gentle, melting me to my core in a heartbeat.

  His kiss. God, his kiss. It’s all consuming, and all revealing. The heat from his body flooding me with the memories of months ago wipes every conscious thought from my mind and leaves nothing but him and the feel of being in his arms.

  I've missed this. God I’ve missed him.

  I give myself over completely to the moment and sink into him, opening to him without hesitation when his tongue sweeps across my lower lip. He devours me, our tongues tangling in the most delicious way as he claims me, tasting and caressing every inch.

  His shirt slips from my grasp as I wrap my arms around him, my fingers returning to their exploration of his back. Needing to be closer I take the half step separating us and lean into him as I pull him to me, wanting to feel his long lines pressed against me once again. The little bit of movement from my step is just enough to throw him slightly off balance in his damn walking boot, causing him to stumble just enough to break the kiss. I moan his name when his lips leave mine, searching for him
again.

  The sound of my voice must break whatever spell he was under and he pulls back, leaving his hand tangled in my hair as he looks down at me, confusion and something else I can’t quite name flashing in his eyes. Desperate to not let the moment go just yet, I tighten my hold on him, my eyes pleading with him to kiss me again. He studies me for a long moment, his eyes darting between mine, searching my face for some sign. I’m not sure what he is looking for, but when he closes his eyes, “Lexi…” he whispers with a defeated sigh.

  Every cell of my being cries out in protest as he steps back, breaking my hold on his shoulders. I watch, stunned, as he rakes his hand through his hair, gripping the overly long strands in his fist as his face screws up in pain and confusion. My hands start to shake, and I don’t trust my legs to keep me upright for much longer as I take him in. Every muscle in his body is strung tight, the battle he’s fighting within himself evident in every shaky breath that jolts his shoulders.

  Taking another step back, he groans out my name again, leaving his eyes screwed up tight and shaking his head. I need to leave. I can’t just stand here any longer. He clearly doesn’t want me here and I don’t trust myself to not completely lose it and break down. I refuse to let him see me cry. Not out of stubborn pride, but because I know that’s the last thing he needs right now and whether he remembers it or not, I know he hates knowing he’s hurt a woman. I pushed too far. It’s not his fault my heart got the best of me and I let myself believe, let myself hope for just a moment, that we could be back where we were.

  “Lexi, I… we… I can’t...” he chokes out, finally opening his startling blue eyes, and the pain I see reflected in them strikes me to the core. Biting down on the inside of my cheek, attempting to hold back the tears for just a moment longer, I give him a stiff nod before turning on my heels and striding quickly from the room.

  I need to put some distance between us, some closed doors, while I pick up the pieces of my once again shattered heart. He doesn’t remember what we had, what we almost were, what I loved, what we could have become; and I need to be okay with that. I can’t keep letting myself get muddled in a past that just doesn’t exist for him anymore. Getting him healed, helping him find himself again, that's the priority, that’s what I can do for him now more than ever. Once he has that, maybe, just maybe, he’ll help me find me again. Maybe together we can both find what we lost, but until then, I need to keep the little pieces of heart I have left closed away and protected from the man who gave them back to me in the first place.

  But that kiss... There has to be something there to still have a kiss so completely Earth shattering. That doesn’t just come from nowhere. I hope it doesn’t...

  Chapter 9

  Gage

  That kiss. Goddamn that fucking kiss.

  Never in my life have I felt so much in one little moment. That was the kind of kiss they write poems and sonnets about, the kind that inspires art, creation, inspires… everything good in the world; then why the hell is fear the only thing I feel?

  What the fookin’ hell is wrong with me?! Why am I droning on like some pansy ass motherfucker about poems and art and shit when there is a beautiful goddess who so clearly wants me? What the hell is happenin’ to me?

  Ever since I woke up from that damn coma, I’ve been fighting every second of every day to regain what I lost. A few things have come back, little by little, but the last few months leading up to the accident are still a complete blank. A complete blank that is, except for her. I can’t imagine what she is thinking because I literally do not know what happened. I feel like I’ve popped out of Jumanji or something… ‘What year is it!?’

  I don’t know why, or how exactly, but I’m drawn to Lexi. From the moment I woke up and heard her singing, saw her laying in that chair with that fiery hair of hers hanging down catching the sun… I can’t shake her and really don’t want to fuckin’ try. At first I thought it was just because she was the first person I saw in this fucked up drama of “Gage’s life 2.0” but as time goes on and I start to get a sense of how this crazy little family naturally works together, I’m more and more convinced there is more to it than just lust at first sight.

  She’s a siren, calling to me through the mist of my memories on a ship that I have no control over. If I could only reach her, I’m sure I would find my way through this mess and out the other side, find myself whole again. As much as I want to follow her call, I can’t help but be wary of how much power she has over me. What I do know, or at least what I know right now, she is my mate’s Ol’ Lady’s sister; Tessa’s sister I suppose I should say since apparently I lost part of that time too. Sure, Lexi and I had started to become mates, I think, as she got settled into the Compound, but I don’t remember there being anything more than that.

  That kiss.

  That kiss felt so… right. Felt as if I was coming home.

  Then why did I stop it? Good fuckin’ question. My body sure as fuck is pissed at me for not grabbing her and throwing her down on this perfectly nice, giant, comfortable bed next to me and having my way with her. I bet she feels like silk and tastes like spice if her touch and kiss are any indication. Fuck, she sets my blood boiling in all the best ways. In all my years playin’ the fool when I was younger, beddin’ women like it was a fuckin’ sport, I’ve never felt anything even close to that kiss. And don't get me started on my harder than goddamn steel cock that’s now screaming at me to reprise that role.

  No. Somethin’ in my head just won't let me go there, she’s something special no matter what my body is screaming at me to do. Hell, for all I know I already played that game with her and moved on. No, I need to listen to my head and hold back until I know who I am again. ALL of who I am. There’s something there, I would be stupid to deny it, let alone squander it with a quick tumble. Fuck, Sawyer would probably shoot me if I messed up his little trio by wrecking the sister’s life. I would also be the worst kind of cad to act on it before I know for sure. She deserves better than that, of that I am certain.

  * * *

  Two hours later, I finally pull myself out of the downward spiral my thoughts took after that goddamn kiss, at least enough to slink from my room and attempt to join the group again. It’s just about dinner time so hopefully I can still salvage some of the day yet.

  I hobble my way past Lexi’s closed door, my shoulders slouching with the weight of regret as I hear rom-com movie #29 playing and realize that she is more than likely hiding in there, and will be for the rest of the night. All because I’m the cripple who doesn’t remember her like he should.

  Fuck, here goes that slide down again.

  Stomach rumbling in protest I acknowledge that there’s nothing I can do to fix it right now; I continue down the hall and into the main room of the penthouse. Sawyer’s on the couch, crouched over something on the coffee table. A quick scan of the rest of the space shows we’re alone, and I heave a sigh of relief, not particularly keen on the idea of facing Tessa after pissing off her sister. This man I know, this man is something that I am fully equipped to deal with.

  Rounding the edge of the couch, I see Sawyer has a phone propped up on the coffee table in front of him and is whisper-yelling into it while hunched over, his hands gripping the edge of the highly lacquered wood coffee table. As I get closer, I see the screen and let out a loud snort-laugh when I see something straight out of Unsolved Mysteries or some shit. The person Sawyer is yelling at has their face blurred, pixilated, AND heavily shadowed. When they respond to Sawyer their voice is highly modulated and disguised in that horrible deep robot voice you hear in all the bad crime shows. To really round out the “secret bad guy” vibe, the person is clearly sitting in front of a green screen because according to the display, they are currently sitting in… yep, that’s the rebel base on the snow planet Hoth from Star Wars.

  Why the fuck can I remember that shit…

  I grab an apple off the counter to munch and with a laugh I flop down on the cushion next to Sawyer and call
out loudly, “Heya Tink. How's it hangin’? Assuming pretty shriveled from the chill there on Hoth.”

  There is an exasperated sigh, which sounds downright demonic with the voice modulation, and then all the filters flick off the screen and an annoyed looking Tinker is left sitting in front of a green sheet he must have tacked up on the wall behind his desk in his room at the compound.

  “You seriously take the fun out of everything Gage,” he groans and rolls his eyes dramatically.

  “Yes, yes he does. But first, do one of ya want to tell me what the fuck is Hoth?” Sawyer asks, still hunched forward with his elbows propped on his knees.

  “Star Wars,” Tink and I say in unison. Sawyer groans and flops back against the cushions, dragging his hands through his hair in frustration.

  “Again with the nerd shit?” he barks.

  “Spartan, are you really surprised? It’s me. And besides, it’s not like any of these references have been even remotely difficult,” Tinker says, reaching behind him and tugging down the green sheet, revealing a bookcase filled to overflowing with comics, Legos, random pieces of electronics, and all the other nerd shit you could imagine.

  “Not difficult?! Are you kidding me?” Sawyer barks, dropping his chin to his chest to look down at the screen incredulously.

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t get my postcard!” Tinker gasps.

  “Oh, I got it. I just didn’t understand the damn thing!” Sawyer growls back.

  “He had te Google it,” I say with a laugh.

  “No, he didn’t. Did you seriously Google it?” Tinker asks with honest shock on his face.

  “Four and a half HOURS!” Sawyer drags out, scrubbing his hands over his face again.

  Tinker starts laughing and I can’t resist piling on just a little bit. “Our little Spartan here ended up down the fanfic rabbit hole,” I laugh. Tinker doubles over from his howling laughter, everything but the top of his head disappearing from the screen as Sawyer looks at me like he’s counting the ways he could kill me at this very moment. I give him a cheeky grin and readjust so I can see the screen a bit better before asking. “So, what’d I miss?” then look over at Sawyer again, “I’m assuming I won’t like where the phone magically came from?” Sawyer doesn’t even acknowledge my comment as he sits back up, once again resting his elbows on his knees and focusing in on the screen.