TANGLED

by Simone Elise

  Her flawless skin, her red lips—and it wasn’t lipstick; her lips were always red, which stood out against her pale complexion. With all the sunshine here you would think she would tan. But she never did.

  My migraine disappeared slowly over the night once she forced me to take pain killers.

  That was the other thing about Soph, you couldn’t say no to her. Not that she would react badly if you did, you simply didn’t say no because you didn’t want to disappoint her. Like, whatever she wanted you had to give her, meet her demands.

  Again, it wasn’t like she demanded much from you. If anything, all she wanted was respect, and that I would and could always give her.

  My brother had broken her trust. I also think he broke something inside her. The old Soph would be full of smiles and glowing with happiness. This version of Soph had her hanging out with men like Bax and coming home at all hours.

  She wasn’t happy. I think the only thing she was doing was surviving—poorly.

  Clearly she wasn’t in the right state of mind to make a fucking decision. cause look where her decisions got her: In my bed, in a dress barely covering her breasts and thighs, showing the back lace that it should be covering.

  Her decisions had also led her to Bax. I had hoped she would see it herself. That he wasn’t the guy you would waste time on.

  I had let them go a week and what was the result? Bax was making excuses to get out of my meetings and Soph was barely home. And when she did come home it was the early hours of the morning. How did I know? Cause I was making an effort to track what she was doing. I was even home by nine at night, which was unheard of because the night is meant to be a biker’s best time. Best time on the road. And best time to drink and get laid. And what was I doing? Waiting to see if my brother’s teenage ex-girlfriend was home.

  I didn’t know why I was doing it. Wasn’t like I loved her. I didn’t love anyone. Nor did I ever see myself loving any one. That just wouldn’t happen. I was never giving a girl more than a night again. I was never being forced to be in a relationship with one and I sure as fuck was never getting involved in her life.

  So what the hell was I doing with Soph?

  She was a friend, right? I didn’t do friendships either, so I didn’t know the boundaries. Didn’t know if stalking her bed time was acceptable. I also didn’t know if it was my place to warn her of Bax when she hadn’t actually told me about him. So I couldn’t just give carefree easy advice on the subject.

  She would have to bring him up. And I didn’t see her doing that. Ever.

  My bedroom door swung open and I was so forced on staring at Soph’s flawless and sleeping face I nearly didn’t notice my brother come in.

  “What the fuck, Joshua!” Kyle hissed at me, his eyes on Soph and then me.

  I rolled my eyes. Of course he would make a scene. I saw his eyes run down her, and as if she was mine, I had to cover her. I threw the blanket over her. I should have done that earlier instead of gawking at her perfect figure.

  I got up and pushed Kyle out of the room. I didn’t want him waking her and he would do that just to be a jerk and get answers on why she was in my room.

  “What the hell was that!” Kyle pointed at my bedroom door, which I had just closed before he started his ranting.

  His ranting went through my ears. My migraine might be gone but my ears were still sensitive.

  “Nothing.” I crossed my arms, standing in the way of the door way in case he had the thought to charge in there and demand for Soph to explain what she was doing in there to him.

  “She’s off limits, you hear me, Joshua? She is off fucking limits!” he roared at me and if Soph wasn’t awake I’m sure that would have woken her.

  “You and her are finished. What she does is zero of your business.” I uncrossed my arms, and in case he wasn’t getting a message I pushed him backwards away from my bedroom door. “If anyone will be staying away from her, it’s you. You hear me, Kyle? Stay the fuck away from her!”

  “She’s my girlfriend!”

  He couldn’t be serious? “Last time I checked you have a new one of them, which means Soph isn’t yours anymore.”

  He shook his head, not accepting that. “She will always be mine. I know what you think of her. Fuck, I’ve seen how you look at her. But I’m telling you I won’t let it happen.”

  He could say what he wanted and do what he wanted. At the end of the day, what happened between me and Soph would be between us. Not that I was planning on anything happening. At the moment we were just friends. She was the first friend I’d had and I wasn’t sure if I was being a good one or letting her down. But still, what happened was between us.

  “I know what you are involved in. She will never go for a criminal biker!” Kyle hissed at me. How did he know that I was a biker? The criminal bit, well that was old news. But no one knew about the biker side, unless he has been speaking to Dad.

  I titled my head, looking at my brother. We both knew that nothing held Soph back when her heart got involved. But I doubted her heart would ever want me. I was older; I was a criminal, and I didn’t care that I scared nearly every one I met away.

  “I’ll do what I want, Kyle. Like I always do.” I pointed a finger at him. “I think you need to learn your new place, which is in her past—not her future.” With that said, and seeing that panicked look on his face, I turned around and slipped back into my bedroom.

  Soph had been right when she said she was lucky not to break her neck in my room. It was really bad. I wanted to groan. I hated cleaning. I didn’t care if I lived in a mess. If that meant I didn’t have to clean, that was fine.

  But seeing as Soph noticed how bad it was, I knew I would have to bring myself to the boring task of cleaning.

  “You’re up.”

  My head snapped up and I saw Soph sitting up in the bed, with the blanket over her lap. She was still waking up by the looks of it, which meant maybe my idiot of a brother hadn’t woken her up.

  “Yeah. How you feeling?” I moved towards the bed.

  “I should be asking you that question.” She turned on the bed. “So how are you feeling?”

  That was Soph for you, always cared more about someone else than herself. I smiled. “I’m better. I owe you one.”

  “I didn’t do it counting on you paying me back.” She forced a smile. That was the other thing she did now. Force smiles. Her natural smile was never on her face. Or that carefree grin of hers—that was never on her face either.

  “I know you didn’t.” I looked down at my side of the bed and spotted a rose. I picked it up and looked at her. “I thought you said it wasn’t a date?” I wouldn’t believe that the Bax I knew would buy her a red rose. In fact, she must have someone else on the cards as well as him.

  She looked at the rose. “I thought I had dreamed that bit.”

  I arched my eyebrows at her. “So who is he?”

  She looked down at her lap. “You wouldn’t approve,” she mumbled, and I started to get a sinking feeling my stomach. Like she was about to confirm my worst night mare, which was Bax was the one giving her roses and keeping her out all night.

  “Try me.” I put the rose down on my bedside table and kept my eyes on her. “You know me, I’ve never judged you.”

  She frowned and took a deep breath in and looked like she was weighing up telling me the truth or not. “What do you think of bikers?”

  The air disappeared from my lungs. I found my mouth dropping open and I just looked at her like she couldn’t be serious. In that second, that one question threw me completely.

  Her frown deepened when she saw my reaction. “Forget I asked.” She went to get up.

  “Stop,” I said, putting a hand out like that would stop her from getting up. “How do you know he’s a biker?”

  “I sort of put together all the facts. But it’s strange… It’s like he is loyal to it, but at the same time doesn’t have anything to do with them.” She shrugged. “Maybe I’ve read him wrong.”
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  She hadn’t. She had read him perfectly. He was a biker being forced to have a backseat from a life he loved to live. He loved the drinks, the drugs, and most of all, the women.

  “Biker’s go through girls, Soph. You shouldn’t let yourself be used.” Was that crossing a line? I read her expression; she hadn’t taken it the wrong way.

  She shrugged again. “I’ve sort of stopped caring. It’s not like he will hurt me. Not after…” She swallowed sharply. “I just mean, like, I’m not in love with him. If his attention stopped, I wouldn’t be heart broken or anything.”

  Well, at the very least she didn’t have her heart set on him. That was something. Still, she was dating him, knowing what type of man he wa—the type of man that would never be faithful to a woman.

  She deserved to have a man that would always put her first and would always be loyal, respectful, and faithful to her. Bax was only loyal to the club. He didn’t respect anyone—not even the people that ranked above him. And he wasn’t faithful. Just wasn’t in his blood. He was stereotypical biker.

  So why the fuck had he set his sights on Soph?

  I ran a hand through my hair, feeling slightly confused by the new emotions that were flooding my body.

  “I should get out of you bed, and let you rest.” This time Soph did get up, and I didn’t want her leaving.

  “You got plans today?” I asked as I watched her readjust her dress. Her dead straight hair was puffing out, giving her a look as if she had been up all night having sex.

  “Nope.” She crossed her arms. “Guess you do though. Your phone was going off before.”

  I glanced at my phone. It was dead now. My eyes went back to her. God, she was beautiful. “I don’t have plans. Well, apart from cleaning my room.”

  She grinned just slightly, but it was a real grin. “Why, because I nearly died in here?”

  I nodded my head. Yep. She was the reason I was facing down cleaning.

  “Well, seeing as it is my fault you’re going to do something you hate, I’ll help.” She put her hands on her hips. “But I need to change first.”

  “You don’t have to help.” That was the last thing I wanted, but at the same time, knowing she would be spending time with me, excited me.

  “Just let me change.” Her eyes ran over my bare chest. “And you should get dressed too,” she said that like me being topless was causing her physically harm.

  I realized now if she saw my back she would see my tattoo. Without thinking about it or caring if it was dirty or not, I picked up the first t-shirt my hand landed on and threaded it on.

  She frowned slightly at my abrupt behaviour. She gave me another questioning look as she opened the door and left.

  That was a close call. How could I forget about my tattoos? If she saw that, she wouldn’t be questioning if I was a biker or not.

  Chapter Twelve

  Soph

  When it came to life, I had always seen it as black and white: What you can do and what you can’t. What you should feel and what you shouldn’t. I never saw the gray area. But now, I did. I saw a hell of a lot of gray. Like my feelings, for example. If I had to say if I was happy or sad, I couldn’t say either. But I could say I was broken, which I think went into the gray side of life where there was a hole in my heart and every day I was trying to fill it… and some days, well, some days I let it get bigger.

  Being with Kyle was the thing I did best and now it was gone there was a hole in heart, a hole he created. Some days I could cope. Other days I couldn’t get out of bed. Then there was a rare day when I felt like myself again. But most of the time I felt like a different person. I think that’s what scared me the most—that I was becoming a new person, someone colder, someone less happy, someone who didn’t smile and someone who saw the darker side of life and didn’t give a fuck.

  I was becoming someone I didn’t recognize. The hole in my heart was destroying me—well, the old me. The person I was creating now, I didn’t want to be her. Every time I looked in the mirror I just longed to see the happiness I used to feel daily.

  I knew the coldness was getting worse when my razor broke in the shower and I couldn’t think of one reason not to cut my wrists. I didn’t. But for a split second I wanted the relief—to feel something other than numbness.

  Sure, Bax brought out a side to me. He made me…. Well, I don’t think I can’t describe what I felt around him. Wasn’t love. Wasn’t friendship. Maybe it was a risker side to me? Maybe he brought out my wild side? I guess there wasn’t much left of me to get hurt if things did go bad, so why not risk it? That was what I thought every time he called me late at night. I knew it was a booty call, but I went.

  Then there were the rare nights when he just wanted to spend time with me. Didn’t fucking know why he would want to spend time with me. It sure as hell wasn’t my personality. Wasn’t like I made great conversation either. I just couldn’t. I literally couldn’t do it. It was like I was relearning how to be around people. Like all my experiences with Kyle had been wiped. The person I was, wiped. The skills I had, wiped. What was this? Was this the heartbreak that song writers sing about? Was this the type of pain romance novelists attempt to describe?

  At the end of the day, I knew one thing for sure: no one could describe this heartbreak unless they had been through it. And if they did experience it, live through it, and survive it, I can guarantee they wouldn’t be the same person anymore.

  No one could fix this hole in my heart. Hell, it wasn’t a hole. There was barely anything left of my heart for it to be considered an organ.

  I think what was worse was Kyle always knew the right words to say. He always knew what to do—usually he knew me better than I knew myself. I’d grown so tired of putting up a front. I wasn’t ok. And I was ok with not being ok. I was just hoping one day, somehow, by some miracle I would recover.

  Just because I couldn’t see it happening didn’t mean it wouldn’t, right? Miracles happen. It was possible one would happen to me. In the meantime, I just had to get through day to day, hour to hour, minute to minute.

  I had to admit, right now I was getting through the day thanks to Josh.

  I looked up just as he scratched the back of his neck, glaring down at his couch. I had to admit his expression had my lips twitching up. Nearly a smile. But it wasn’t.

  “You know, you can’t just keep glaring at it. You are going to have to sort out the mess, right?” I said, sitting on his floor, sorting out the clean washing. His mum had just kept putting basket after basket of clean washing in his room but wouldn’t put it away. It was fair to say he had been living out of these baskets.

  He said his mum cleaned everything that ended up outside his doorway. He looked at me like I was stupid when I asked him if he washed them. His response: “Fuck the washing.” It was enough to get me to nearly smile again.

  “This is disgusting,” he muttered, picking up a pair of jeans which were covered in grease that had, by the looks of it, rubbed off on his shirts underneath them.

  Nothing could make me laugh, but his expression was bringing out the humor in me.

  “Fuck, look at this!” He dug out something and then showed me a pizza box. “How the fuck did that get underneath all this?”

  “I’m going to say you were drunk and hungry at the time that entered your room.” Which was the only explanation on why he would have food in here. He would come back from one his wild parties or fights. I say fights because he was often wearing a black eye, bruised knuckles, or cut lip. But the funny thing was, his attitude seemed to imply he wasn’t on the receiving end of the beating. That was Josh for you. I think he lived to push his body to breaking point with exercise. He used to be like that before prison, always running and always at the gym. I remember he took up mixed martial arts before prison.

  I took in his board shoulders and arms I couldn’t wrap my hands around his muscles were that big. Even the muscles running up his neck bulged out. Honestly, I was sorry for any poor bastard
that pissed him off because I think Josh could kill them with his bare hands and strength.

  If I had to describe Josh as one thing, one word to sum him up, it would be protector. I think that’s why I felt so safe around him. There were other ways to describe josh, like dangerous, a definite violent streak, not emotionally ready for a relationship… even cold hearted. But I think the most frightening thing about him was he was able to tell, with just one look, what you were thinking. Yeah, that scared me the most, and I was trying my best to dodge his glances. I didn’t want him to know about the hole in my heart. I didn’t want anyone to know.

  I watched him throw clothes out into the hallway. He was assuming that his mum would pick them up and wash them. For a twenty-something-year-old man, he was relying an awful lot on his mum.

  “Well, look at that!” I said with a tiny smile on my face.

  “What?” He glanced at me, still holding the pizza box between two fingers, as if it would the old pizza would escape from the box and attack him.

  “Your carpet is gray.” I stood up.

  He scoffed. “Well, I’m still unsure what color my fucking couch is.”

  “Could have a flower pattern.”

  He shot me a drop dead look. Like it would be over his dead body that anything with flowers on it would come into his room, which just supported his character: stereotypical alpha male.

  “You still haven’t told me his name.” Josh threw more clothes into the hallway along with the pizza box.

  I frowned. “Whose name?”

  He looked up at me with determination in his eyes. “The biker.”

  Oh, that. I should have kept my mouth shut. “I don’t know if he is a biker or not.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Old enough to not be interested in me.” And that was the truth.

  Josh scoffed and shook his head. “Do you see yourself in the mirror? “ He waved an arm at me. “You would have any sane man begging.”

  What was he trying to say? That I attract men? How wrong he was. The only man I wanted found another girl more attractive than me. So if I couldn’t keep the one man I wanted, how the hell was I meant to keep others interested?