“Even bending down to get at these is pure hell,” he continued. Something different echoed in his voice. A kind of dumb pain.
My eyes flowed back up his body to his face. I noticed how pale he looked.
“Will you help me? I don’t want to be alone. A kid nearly died in my arms today.”
My mouth fell open in a silent gasp.
“Please,” he coaxed.
“I-I- have work in an hour,” I croaked.
“An hour is fine.” He nodded.
“Uh,” I said indecisively.
“I won’t touch you. I just want to be with you for a while.”
I looked into his eyes and the despair in them made me forget everything Gloria and Allan had said. “Do you have a home? Apart from your … club house, I mean. You live there, right?”
“I have a small house,” he murmured.
“Let’s go there, then,” I said, pulling my work bag, from the side table and took a step forward.
He looked at me as though he was shocked that I had agreed. His gaze went down my jeans and simple T-Shirt and down to my bare feet.
He frowned. “Aren’t you going to put on some shoes?”
“If I go back in I won’t come back out,” I replied.
“I have a taxi waiting.”
I closed the door and hopped past him into it. Climbing into the backseat, I scooted along to the other side to make space for him. I wanted to reach out and help him get into the car, but I didn’t know where not to touch, so I just leaned back and let him figure his own way into the cab.
He was soon inside and we were on our way. Taking my phone out, I sent a message to Nichole telling her I had left with Bone and would go straight to work after being with him. Then I put my seatbelt on and buckled in for the ride. He seemed content not to speak and just sat quietly next to me so the ride passed with me looking out of the window and him laying his head against the headrest with his eyes closed.
* * *
He lived in Paddock Villas.
As the taxi pulled up in front of the apartment block I turned my gaze to his face, his eyes were still shut, the corners slightly tightened, perhaps in pain and his mouth tightened and pale.
He was beautiful, and I did feel like I had literally been set on fire when he touched me, but was it worth all this? Was Nichole right in that all I did was attract trouble?
Completely aware, he immediately opened his eyes, paid the fare and turned to me. “I’ll be right back. I’ll get you something from the house.”
“Oh, okay,” I said confused by the request.
“I’ll be just a few minutes,” he said to the cab driver. He slammed the door shut and walked away quickly.
I was left in the silence of the bright yellow Sedan and to the stolen glances of the aged ginger-haired taxi-driver.
“You two dating?” he eventually asked.
“Uh, no,” was my response. I wondered why he was curious.
“Good. A nice girl like you shouldn’t mix with scum like that,” he commented.
“Actually, you’ve been paid so you can go now.” I pulled the handle, got out of the vehicle, and he sped off in a huff.
Two minutes later, the hunk I had come with, resurfaced, a pair of huge black sneakers in hand. He placed them on the ground in front of me.
I laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I like walking around barefoot in summer. Anyway, I have a pair of shoes in my bag. How did you imagine I was going to work later?”
“Makes sense,” he said quietly.
We walked together towards his apartments. Taking the stairs, we arrived on the second floor and walked along the balcony until I was ushered into an apartment, an apartment that was very sparsely furnished.
A black leather sofa in front of a television, and not much else. It was open plan, so I could see right through to the kitchen. There was a large two door refrigerator, but no dining table. I watched as he went ahead into the kitchen.
“I’ll order some food in,” he said to me.
My nerves immediately tightened. “Uh, why don't I go get you some groceries? I didn't come all the way over here just to lounge around and eat some free food.” I had tried to make it all sound light and amusing.
There was absolutely no trace of humor on his face as he asked, “What if you bail on me?”
“If I was going to do that I would have never agreed to come in the first place,” I answered, and as I said the words, I realized that I meant it.
He nodded. “I’m still surprised that you did.”
“Well,” I replied. “That makes two of us. I have less than an hour so let me put it to good use. What can I help you with?” His regard made me squirm with discomfort. Something about the way he looked at me made me feel completely stripped down and exposed, and that severely bothered me because I wasn't sure what he was seeing.
“Nothing,” he replied slowly.
I blinked.
He ran his fingers through his hair then, his breathing heavy as he briefly glanced away. “I want to lie down. Would you stay by my side?” When I just stared on, he added. “I’ll order something in so you can eat, at least. I can’t send you off to work on an empty stomach.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “What do you feel like?”
I shrugged. “Perhaps pizza?”
He nodded in agreement. “I’m getting ham and pepperoni, what do you want?”
“Ham and pineapple, please.”
He winced.
“What?” I demanded immediately.
He wouldn’t be drawn. “Nothing.” He placed the order and ended the call.
“Do you at least need help taking off your boots? There are a lot of laces there.”
He glanced down at them, then back up to me, a ghost of a smile on his tired face. “They have zippers,” he confessed.
I was taken aback. “You lied to me?”
“Sorry. I ran out of ideas.”
I gave him a hard look, then turned my gaze towards the hallway. “Where’s your room?” I asked.
He led the way.
Della Ray
His room was in the same state as the rest of the apartment. A massive bed sat in the center, and little to no personal belongings except the pile of clothes I found strapped over the imposing leather armchair by the corner. The words left my lips before I could think it through, “You must not stay here a lot.”
“I don’t,” he replied. “Only when I need to get away … like today.” He seemed to struggle to get his black t-shirt off. One sleeve had already been cut off, but his face looked severely contorted with pain and frustration when he tried to take it off.
I walked over to him. “The top is ruined, anyway. Why don’t we just cut it off you?”
He nodded. “I think there’s a pair of scissors, or at the very least, a knife in the kitchen. Wait here and I’ll go get it.”
“No, I’ll get it. You wait here. Actually, sit down. You’ve gone a funny color.”
“Next to the dishwasher. Third drawer on the left.”
I ran to the kitchen, found a knife where he said it would be, then I hurried back to his bedroom.
He still sat on the bed and looked up tiredly at my arrival. “I never thought I’d be so glad to see a woman with a knife,” he commented, his lips twisting with wry amusement.
“I wouldn’t be so glad, if I were you,” I retorted tartly. “I’ve been known to slip and cut things I shouldn’t.”
He chuckled, but didn’t say anything.
When I stood in front of him, I asked, “Ready?”
“Do your worst.”
As carefully as I could I cut the material, then gently pulled it upward. Just as I had it over the crown of his head, the stretchy t-shirt snapped from my grasp and slapped against his bandaged arm. He barely winced, but I knew I was making him suffer much more than he was letting on.
“I’m so sorry,” I apologized. I felt overcome with remorse and a very strong feeling of inadequacy, but it was too
late to back out. Eventually, I got the t-shirt off his head and only then realized how close to each other we were when his face resurfaced again.
He stared into my eyes, and faltered. In the heat of the moment, he forgot his condition and grabbed me with his bandaged arm. The resulting agony was instant.
There were no apologies that would suffice, so I got my shit together and helped him into bed. Just as the bell rang … I turned towards it.
“Don’t leave,” he begged, his eyes suddenly desperate.
“I won’t,” I joked lightly. “Especially since the pizza has arrived.”
His eyes widened. “Oh, shit. I forgot that I ordered pizza.”
He began to rise, but I wasn’t having it. With my hand across his shoulder, I gently pushed him down and shook my head. “Don’t get up. I’ll go and get it.”
Even in his condition, he was powerful enough to brush me aside. “No, it could be anyone.”
“Oh, is that bad? Are you expecting someone other than the delivery guy?”
He lifted his pillow then and underneath it was a black pistol.
A gasp escaped before my hand could fly up to slap my mouth shut.
“No one pleasant,” he responded. “Just wait here.” He was out of the room before I could figure out what to say.
When he returned, it was with our boxes of pizza. He put them at the bottom of the bed and lay down on the pillow. His naked torso was now on full display and I couldn’t take my eyes off the inked, sculpted, tanned body that I had imagined more times than I could recall.
“Eat something,” he invited.
My voice came silky smooth and breathless as I replied, “Later, I’m not very hungry right now. What about you?”
He shook his head.
I couldn’t stop watching him. He was so beautiful when he was in this state. But when he suddenly opened his eyes and caught me staring hungrily at him, I quickly looked away in embarrassment.
“It can’t be very comfortable sitting at the edge of the bed,” he murmured.
“Oh, I’m fine,” I said, but the look he gave me was a wordless plea. I couldn’t resist. I laid down on the grey striped comforter and placed both my hands on my stomach.
“I still can’t believe you came,” he said, as he turned his head to watch me.
“Neither can I.”
“Are you regretting it now?”
“Well ... there’s the pizza,” I joked. “What’s there to regret?”
He went silent after that.
I was too aware of him to even turn to steal a glance. “Tell me about the kid,” I said softly.
“Yeah, he was a good kid. He took a bullet he didn’t deserve,” he said, his eyes staring unseeingly at the ceiling. “I was going to take him aside and beat some sense into him, so that he would get the fuck out of the club, but I never got around to it.” He shut his eyes.
“Is he going to be okay?”
“He’ll live, but he may never walk again. The bullet blasted right through his spinal cord.”
“You were shot too, weren’t you?” I asked, my voice small with fear. This was exactly the reason I didn’t want to get involved with someone like him.
“Yeah,” he replied. “But I was lucky. It went cleanly through my flesh, and only lightly grazed the bone. I’ll be fine in no time.”
I chose my next words very carefully, “Will you tell me what happened? How did both of you get shot?”
“We had church,” he explained.
“Church?” I interjected in surprise. “Why are people getting shot at church?”
He smiled at me.
Oh, my God! Was that an indulgent smile? The kind a father would give his beloved daughter, or a man might give his … his sweetheart.
“We call our weekly chapter meetings church,” he clarified. “A rival club drove by in a van and released fire.”
“Why?”
“I have no clue,” he replied, his brow creasing into frown lines. “A few days ago they seized a patched vest from one of our members so if anything, we’re the ones who are meant to bury them all, but they came at us first and none of us know why.”
“Maybe they didn't want to wait for a war,” I reasoned. “Maybe they wanted to start it ... on their own terms.”
“Perhaps,” he said, turning around to look at me again. “Do you know much about the clubs?”
“I looked yours up,” I admitted. “After you mentioned it.”
“And …”
“And nothing,” I replied, but we both knew it wasn’t the truth. There was a lot I wanted to say and ask, but I didn't have the guts.
“Michael,” he began and a frown instantly dug into my forehead. “Why were you with him? What did you see in him? He’s damn well repugnant.”
“I really don't want to talk about Michael,” I said. “It was a mistake, but it’s over now and one of those episodes of my past that I wish had never happened.”
“But he did happen,” he countered. “And I want to know about it.”
I sighed. If I didn’t want our current mood of comradery not to turn sour, then I needed to talk about it. “Okay, I went out with him, because he pretended to like Jess, so I blinded myself to all the little warning clues that he was big trouble and convinced myself to go along with it. Funny thing is Jess never liked him. She wouldn’t even look him in the eye.”
“And me?” he asked. “Why are you going along with me?”
I turned to him then. “You’re not downright repugnant.”
He slightly lifted his blood stained and bandaged arm. “But I am trouble, aren’t I?”
I held his gaze then and for once allowed the words to come out ... so that not only he could hear them but so could I, “I’m not trying to fall in love with you, or trying to have a long-term relationship,” I said. “I think I just—I think I just …”
“You just what?” he prompted.
“Forget it.”
“Let me know and I’ll make it happen for you,” he said. “As a thank you for today.”
I almost succumbed, but then I thought of something better. “Why don't you answer my question and I’ll answer yours.”
“Go ahead.”
“Don’t get offended,” I began, “but why are you in an MC? You seem like an intelligent, good guy. Why would you be in something so dangerous?” I pointed to his bandage. “What kind of life is this?”
He looked away.
Had I gone too far? I quickly moved to salvage the tense silence. “You don't have to respond. I shouldn’t have asked. It wasn't very polite.”
“Will you tell me the answer to yours if I don't respond?” he asked.
“No.” I smiled. “Absolutely not.”
“Okay, then I’ll tell you.” He stared at me with empty eyes. “I went in because of my best friend. He was in a rival club, the Mongols. Then two years ago, he stopped at a traffic light, and someone tapped on his window. When he rolled the glass down, he was blasted with seven bullets in his head. When I saw him, I couldn’t even make out his face. I’ve been haunted by that sight ever since.”
I tried my best not to show it, but my bones felt as if they were rattling with trepidation. “So you weren’t a member of a club then?”
“No,” he answered in a chilling voice. “I joined the Order of Blood because that is the only way I’m going to take care of the bastard that took him down.”
The implications of his words made me go silent with sadness.
“Your turn … why are you going along with me?”
“Before I respond, please pardon one more question.” I said, and quickly went on before he could refuse me, “If you take care of this guy, you could end up going to jail, couldn’t you? It is, after all, murder.”
“I don't care,” he replied, his face set and menacing.
“Alright,” I said, my heart a little torn. “That means then that there can be absolutely nothing real between us, so I will say what I wanted to.”
“Go ahead.”
“I-I just want to sleep with you, at least once. Believe it or not—I’ve only ever been with one guy, and that was a disaster, so I want to feel the way you made me feel that night.” I shut my eyes then, my hands wringing with nerves. After all, he had said I should have been running for the hills … instead I was still here.
“I can make you feel better than you felt that night,” he stated softly.
I didn’t know how to respond to that. An ‘okay’ seemed a bit lackluster and ‘thank you’ was not exactly appropriate, so I remained silent. I must have been silent for a long time, because when I turned to steal a glance at him he was quite soundly, and I hoped, peacefully asleep.
I stayed watching him sleeping for a few minutes, because he was so beautiful when he was asleep, then I quietly left his apartment and went to work.
Bone
I was torn awake from a nightmare to find myself bolting upright in bed. I was gasping for breath, my heart was pounding like an African drum, and my whole body was drenched in sweat. Just another nightmare. My breathing slowed as the red mist faded away. I cupped the throbbing wound on my arm with my hand.
I knew without checking that she had left. It was as much as a relief as it was a disappointment. I had been weak last night. I shouldn’t get close to her.
She must never know what her mere presence yesterday evening did for me. From the complete senselessness of the attack to the boy whose life had forever been changed right in front of me ... it was more than I could take. The only way for me to get me through another breath was her.
And it had worked.
I looked at the pizza boxes. They were unopened. Moving forward, I opened the box. It was hers. Ham and pineapple. I pulled a piece and took a bite … and nearly gagged. I spat it back into the box … not even for you, Della.
My phone was buzzing.
I turned to look for it and only then realized my gun was still hooked to my fingers. I had returned back to the room with it and hid it under the pillow as I had fallen asleep. I flung it aside and picked up the phone.
It was Snake. "Where are you?" came his cold voice.
Saving Della-Ray Page 8