by Amelia Shea
“Bailey.”
She hadn’t even heard him walk into the kitchen, which was rare for her. She seemed to have gained superhuman hearing since the incident. It wasn’t otherworldly. She was no superhero. Just a woman who had been caught off guard once and determined to never let it happen again. She glanced up through her damp lashes.
Rourke stood near the doorway from her guest room. It was directly off the kitchen. He seemed locked in his spot as his gaze traipsed over her body. His brows furrowed. She couldn’t tell if he was shocked by her obvious departure from covering her scars or if he was disgusted by them. She’d allowed too many people to make her feel ashamed for one night. She certainly wouldn’t allow it in her own house, her sanctuary. She drew in a breath and clasped her hands, resting her elbows on the table, glaring at him.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” she asked without an ounce of sincerity.
She had to give him credit. He didn’t balk at her tone or cringe at the sight of her skin. In her small tank top, the scars trailing up her arm and over the left side of her chest were completely on display. Even with the low light, Rourke would be getting an eyeful.
“What’s going on, Bailey?”
She shrugged, bringing attention to her arms again. Rourke stared straight at her. “Nothing. Just sitting in my kitchen in the dark at midnight.” She sighed and twisted her lips.
“You been crying?” He stepped forward even though she could sense his hesitation. She didn’t know Rourke well. Mainly her encounters with him were from her friendship with Macy. There was a time when he stepped in or would have, had she needed it when she was having a hostile encounter with Mr. Collins. He and Saint had come over to make sure she was okay. Saint. Thinking of him and the small smile he donned earlier was turning her stomach. Was it pity for her? Was she a charity case to everyone around her? Oh God, this sucks.
“Want me to get Mace?” Rourke asked.
A lone tear fell down her cheek as she glanced up at him. This must have been ungodly awkward for him. In all the time she’d seen Rourke, he’d never seemed uncomfortable or even out of place. Even now, he didn’t seem set to run. She tilted her head and stared back him. He’ll be honest. She leaned forward on the table, stretching her arms out in front of her.
“Is it that bad, Rourke?”
His brows furrowed causing a harsh dent between his eyes. The lines on his forehead creased, and the corner of his eyes crinkled. He stepped forward, resting his hands on the back of the chair across from her. He remained silent. His gaze was inspecting. Not on her body, but her face. He was so intent on her eyes as if he was trying to read her.
“Is it?” she whispered through a shaky breath.
“I don’t know what you mean. Is what so bad?”
She tilted her head, and the corners of her lips turned down. “Me.”
The floor creaked behind him and he glanced over his shoulder. Bailey veered her gaze around him and saw Macy standing close to him. She was staring at Bailey. Rourke may have been confused by her question, but it was clear from the pale sorrow on Macy’s face she understood what Bailey was asking. She hadn’t heard her come in, but obviously, Macy had heard everything.
Macy stepped closer to Rourke, resting her hand onto his forearm and smiled sadly at Bailey. “No, Bailey.” Her throat bobbed and Bailey figured Macy was seconds away from breaking down herself. “The answer is no.”
Bailey smiled. Of course, Macy would say no, she was her friend. “You have to say that, besides…” She trailed off, unsure if she could say the last part out loud. What she really wanted was the male perspective. Was she so ghastly a man wouldn’t be able to get hard at the sight of her?
“Hey.”
Bailey jerked her head toward the masculine voice snapping at her. Rourke straightened and folded his arms. She widened her eyes at his height and his hardened face. Rourke was not a typically handsome man. He was too hard and rough to ever be considered handsome. Sexy and brutish. Especially when he narrowed his gaze pinning her with his stare. “No.”
Her bottom lip jutted out and trembled. It was sweet, for him. Apparently, he wasn’t done.
“Got a lot of fucking scars on my own body. Ugly scars. And they don’t mean shit, ya hear me?”
She nodded and sniffled back her impending tears. Macy had obviously decided she couldn’t hold back anymore. She rounded the table and bent down next to Bailey. Her hand slid over her back in a soothing motion.
“I don’t know what happened tonight, but you better hear me when I say this.” Bailey slid her gaze to Macy. “You are beautiful and funny and sweet, and seriously, one of my most favorite people on this planet.”
Bailey smiled, and Macy inched closer. “Ask Rourke, I hate almost everybody, but there’s not one thing I don’t love about you. You hear me?”
Tears rimmed her eyes, and she choked back her words and answered with a nod. It had been forever since she allowed herself to become overwhelmed with her past. Until now, until an ignorant woman decided to spread her nastiness.
The roaring knock on the back door startled all three of them. Bailey glanced over. It was after midnight.
While Macy stood, Rourke moved toward the door, sliding the curtain back then grabbing the knob. “Dobbs.”
Her chest burned and she tightened her fists, dropping her hands down to her lap. Her first instinct was to demand he not be let inside. Whatever he was going to say, she didn’t want to hear it. She hadn’t been upset with him until the woman had said all those awful things about her and he said nothing. Nothing. Not one word except telling her to shut up so he could get off. Her stomach churned.
She heard the soft whispering of greeting between the three of them and felt him move closer into the kitchen before the door closed.
“What’s going on?” Dobbs said in a low tone.
Bailey remained silent and continued to stare at her placemats. She made a note they needed to be cleaned. She needed to focus on anything other than Dobbs at the moment.
“Bailey.” Dobbs said. It was inevitable. She’d have to speak to him. She glanced up as he stood near Rourke staring down at her with concern.
She licked her lips. “Why are you here?”
He widened his eyes. “I was hanging in the back when I got a call from Kase saying you were there. By the time I got out to the bar, you were gone. Kase said you took off in a hurry, and I wanted to make sure you were good.”
She snorted and squinted. “Why do you care?”
“What?”
The air in the room was tense, and she was making things harder than they had to be. She could have just made up an excuse and sent him on his way. She could have done the same with Macy and Rourke, giving them a sob story about it just being a bad night, and sent them back to their room. Then she’d be left alone, which was what she craved at the moment. But she couldn’t do it. Not this time. She was tired. Tired of hiding and putting on a brave front. Tired of always smiling.
She aimed her stare at him and raised her brows. She purposefully spoke slowly. “Why do you care if I’m okay or not?”
Dobbs stared back at her in confusion. This was a side she hadn’t seen. The usual flirty and fun Dobbs shifted on his feet and glanced over at Rourke.
Macy moved closer. “Did something happen at the party?”
She curled her lip in disgust. “Yeah.”
She noticed both men go rigid and tense. Rourke more so than Dobbs.
“What happened?” Macy asked. “Something in the back? Dammit, I shouldn’t have left you by yourself.”
Bailey shifted her gaze, locking eyes with Dobbs whose face paled, and he flinched slightly. “You were in the back?”
Bailey slowly nodded her head, never taking her eyes off of him. He was piecing it together though she figured he’d misjudge her reason for leaving. He rested his hands on his hips and bowed his head.
Rourke stepped forward. He was seething. He, too, was getting the wrong idea of what had upset her
. “Did one of the guys do something? The girls? What, fucking tell me.”
Bailey drew her gaze back to Dobbs, who was now staring at her again.
“I heard what she said.” Bailey took a deep breath and finished, “About me.”
He knew exactly what she was talking about. There wasn’t a shred of confusion mearing his features. Only regret.
“She didn’t say anything about you.”
Son of a bitch! He was lying. She wasn’t sure if he was protecting the girl or trying to save face. Or maybe he just thought she’d believe anything he said. A scarred girl would buy any and all bullshit, right Dobbs?
“Don’t, please, just don’t.”
His lips strained down in a frown. “Bailey, I…”
Bailey slammed her hand on the table, surprising everyone in the room, including herself.
“She said she was better than the other one.” Bailey pointed at her chest. “Me. I’m false advertising, right?” Bailey shook her head, completely disappointed. He was going the denial route. He should own his shit. Be a man, Dobbs. He became a blurry vision in her tear-filled eyes. “You couldn’t be with me, right? How could something like this,” she lifted her arms, “turn a man on?”
A sharp gasp to her left was a strong reminder she was doing this, all in front of an audience. Macy stepped closer to her side and squeezed her shoulder.
“It wasn’t about you.”
Bailey scoffed, and tears streamed down her face. “I’m scarred, Dobbs, not stupid. You and I know exactly who she was talking about.” She rested her shaky hand over her chest. “Me.”
There was a brief silence.
“Who was it, Bailey, describe her, and I’ll make sure she can’t speak for at least a fucking month.”
“Doesn’t matter who it was,” she whispered then turned back to Dobbs. “Do you have any idea how deep her words cut me? Any clue?”
Dobbs stepped forward. He didn’t get very far when Rourke moved in front of him. She could see his eyes trained on her over Rourke’s shoulder. Remorse. Too late.
“Why invite me?” her voice was a mere whisper, yet everyone went silent and stared at her. “You kissed me then invited me to the party. And me being an idiot, I went and had a front-row seat to my very own roasting.”
“I didn’t think you were coming. I just figured you agreed to shut me up. If I knew you would be there, I never would have taken her in the back.”
“God, you are such a fucking pig,” Macy shouted, and Bailey jumped at the ferocious buzz she sent through the room.
“Macy,” Rourke snapped.
Bailey gripped Macy’s hand on her shoulder, giving her a tight squeeze. She appreciated her having her back, but this was Bailey’s fight, and the last thing she wanted was bloodshed.
“You’re missing the point here, Dobbs.”
He tore his glare from Macy and softened his gaze.
“I’m not mad or upset because you were with another woman. I didn’t expect anything from you. I just thought we would hang out.” She shrugged. It was true. She didn’t have any feelings for Dobbs other than possible friendship. She was too busy pining over her infatuation with Saint to even consider Dobbs, really. But she did think she meant a little something to him. Her eyes burned, and her heart swelled. She teared up. “I thought you liked me, just a little, enough to be a friend.”
“Of course, I like you.” Dobbs’ chest rose and fell rapidly.
“Not enough to stand up for me. When she called me the swamp thing, mocked me, saying I was gross and disgusting, you said nothing in my defense. You let her say all those awful things about me, and you kept fucking along like it was nothing.” She scoffed. “False advertising, she said. My face will draw you in, but once you catch sight of my scars, you won’t even be able to get hard. She said all those nasty things about me, and you said nothing.” Bailey leaned in her chair, wanting him to really see the extent of her pain in her eyes. “I have never had a friend treat me as cruelly as you did tonight.”
He winced as if he’d been slapped. She noticed Rourke’s grip on his chest tighten. She’d gotten her point across, finally.
“Bailey.” His voiced croaked when he called out her name.
She glanced up and saw the remorse and regret. Unfortunately, it was too late for her. The pity in his eyes only flamed her anger. Up until this point, she was more hurt than angry. Something triggered in her, and she squinted her eyes aimed solely at Dobbs. She stretched out her arms on the table and watched as his gaze dropped.
“I know what I look like. I know what people see when they look at my scars.” She paused, waiting for him to look at her. His eyes were trained on the floor. “Knowing it and then hearing it? Just punch me in the face, Dobbs, I swear it won’t hurt as much.”
The sharp gasp from Macy had Bailey bowing her head. She shouldn’t be doing this, not in front of all of them. She drew in a breath.
“Let’s talk, just you and me.”
She shook her head. “No, I just really need you to leave.” She glanced up at Macy, who looked like she was ready to jump across the table and beat the shit out of Dobbs. “I need you all to leave.”
Macy jerked her gaze to Bailey.
“Please.” She scanned the room and nodded. “You took your call earlier, right?”
Reluctantly, she nodded without saying a word.
“I’m sure there’s extra rooms at the clubhouse, you guys should go stay there.”
Macy crouched down, putting them eye level and whispered, “I don’t wanna leave you alone.”
While she appreciated Macy’s concern, all Bailey wanted was to be by herself.
“I’ve been alone for years. I’ll be fine.” She swallowed a breath, trying to calm her shaky voice. “I’m always fine.”
She hated doing it this way. Macy had been only supportive of her and even proving to have her back. But Bailey needed to be alone. It was a shitty thing to do, renege on her offer for them to stay there. The thought alone had her rethinking what she had just said. Before she could change her mind, Rourke turned around to face them.
“Mace, let’s go,” Rourke said then glanced down at Bailey. “They got plenty of space at the clubhouse. Thanks for letting us come here, Bailey.”
Bailey glanced up to see Macy glaring at her man. “I think we should stay.”
“No, we’re leaving.” He glanced down at Bailey and nodded. “She wants us out. We get out. Now, go grab your shit and let’s go.”
“But…”
“No,” Rourke said sternly. “This is Bailey’s house…when she says you leave, you leave, ya hear me?”
Surprisingly, Macy left the room, disappearing into the guest room. Rourke’s large frame separated her and Dobbs, and from the position Rourke had taken, she couldn’t even see Dobbs. She glanced up at Rourke, whose gaze was aimed at the doorway.
Macy came through the door with her bag thrown over her shoulder. She went to stand in front of Bailey.
“You want me to come back, just call, okay?” She grabbed her hands and crouched in front of her. “Hell, you change your mind in ten minutes, you call me. Now, promise me, or I’m not leaving.”
“I promise,” Bailey whispered through the knot in her throat. Bailey had good friends back in her old life, but it had been a while since she truly felt someone had her back. Macy pulled her into a hug. When she released her, Macy turned and aimed her glare at Dobbs.
She pointed to the door. “You first, asshole.”
“I’m not leaving.” His words were directed toward Macy, with his eyes set on Bailey. Oh, hell no. He needed to go. She had said all she had to, and she wasn’t up to listening to a word he had to say. Luckily, she didn’t have to say anything. Macy had it covered.
“Yes, you are.” Macy pushed forward. Thankfully, Rourke was quick enough to block her from getting closer to Dobbs. “Don’t you have some chick to fuck back at the house?”
It was nasty and harsh, making Bailey cringe. Dobbs clenc
hed his jaw and made no movement.
“Mace, outside, now.” She whipped her head and glared at Rourke. Bailey raised her brows in surprise when Macy followed his orders.
He jerked his chin towards the door. “Let’s go, man.”
“Not leaving.” His gaze locked on her.
Rourke leaned forward. “Yeah, you are. You decide how. Either on your own or me throwing your ass outta the fucking door.”
Bailey flinched in her seat from Rourke’s tone. She’d never heard him speak with such a feral tone. She couldn’t turn away, watching both men chest to chest. Dobbs yanked his arm from Rourke’s hold and stormed out the door. She released a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. Rourke glanced over his shoulder.
“You good?” His voice was much softer than how he spoke to Dobbs.
Bailey nodded and clasped her trembling hands. She hadn’t realized she was shaking. Rourke made his way to the door without saying a word. Here was this man she hardly knew, who carried out her demands for her. He walked through the door, grabbing the knob.
He turned back. “You’ll call me or Macy if you want us to come back?”
She nodded.
His gaze scanned her body, and his face hardened. “You fucking listen to every word I’m about to say, you hear me?”
“Okay,” she whispered.
His nostrils flared and his jaw squared. “You don’t give what that fucking cunt said any headspace, you hear me? Not one fucking word, Bailey. She don’t know shit about what a man, a real man, wants.” He stepped closer. “She’s nothing.” He snapped and pointed to her. “You, you’re something.” He narrowed his gaze. “And to somebody, you’re gonna be his fucking everything.”
Her bottom lip trembled. It was one of the nicest things anyone had ever said to her. While it wasn’t eloquent, it was perfect. It was exactly what she needed to hear at that moment. I’m something.