Trying to be free.
A sharp pain shot through her like a lightning strike, making her gasp and stumble. The next one made her pause, pressing a palm against the rough bark of a nearby tree, using it to keep herself upright. To keep from doubling over.
She forced her feet to keep moving.
She needed to keep going no matter how much it hurt.
She looked for a path. There was none. She’d had to make her own.
Until she saw something. Ahead.
A pinpoint of light. Like the beam of a flashlight in the distance.
As she headed for it, it widened and got brighter, now like a single headlight from a vehicle.
And a silhouette standing in front of that light.
The shape of a man.
She needed to head toward him.
He was there to help her.
Not hurt her.
He would help her find her way out.
Then the light became blinding, making her shade her eyes with one hand.
She couldn’t see his face, but she could see something else as she got closer...
An outstretched hand.
“Red...” A deep voice. A man’s voice. “It’s me or them.”
He wanted her to take his offered hand. Accept his help.
She wasn’t sure if she should.
It could be a trap. A trick.
Someone sent to capture her.
“Red,” he said more firmly. “Me... Or them.”
Oh God, oh God, oh God. Not them. Never them.
Once again her choice was taken from her.
She had no choice.
“You,” she whispered and grabbed it tightly, hot tears rolling down her dirty cheeks. “You.”
A gush of warm liquid rushed from her, covering her inner thighs, splashing on and around her feet.
She glanced down as she grabbed her stomach as everything inside her twisted in agony.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Hot. Slippery.
Even in the limited light, she could clearly see what it was.
Blood.
Thick red blood.
She opened her mouth and screamed.
Chapter Ten
Sig jackknifed straight up, almost tumbling to the floor. His brain spun a little but then slowed enough for him to realize he was on his couch in his dark apartment.
How the fuck he ended up back there, he had no fucking clue.
Last thing he remembered...
Yeah.
Fuck.
He pressed his arm to his bare ribs. What he’d done had aggravated them again.
Goddamn it.
He groaned as he tried to get to his feet. He needed to check on Red.
But fuck, his head...
He only wore his jeans, which were hanging open, his belt nowhere to be found.
Oh fuck.
Fuck.
He must have left it where it fell. He’d have to find it in the daylight.
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember everything that had happened once he grabbed the tequila and escaped The Barn.
Where the fuck was his cut?
He opened his eyes, his temples throbbing, and scanned the dark room.
There. On the stool in front of the counter.
Thank fuck.
A belt, he could deny was his. A cut, not so much.
But, Jesus fuck...
He groaned again as he made his way down the short hallway to the back bedroom, doing his best to walk a straight line.
The tequila was still buzzing through his veins, but not as bad as earlier.
Maybe it was good that it was, otherwise he wasn’t sure how he’d bear the pain of what he did.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He made it to the bedroom and opened the door. Even in the dark he could see Red asleep on her side.
He went over to the bed, squatted down and whispered, “Hey.” He reached out and ran a knuckle down her cheek, finding it wet.
She was crying.
In her sleep.
Christ.
“Red,” he tried again, afraid to scare her by shaking her. “Red.” He found her hand tangled in the sheet and squeezed it.
Then her eyes opened and she blinked a couple times, her mouth open.
Her fingers intertwined with his, holding on tight. “You’re here.”
“Yeah.”
“You came.”
Of course, he did. “Yeah, Red. You screamed.”
“Sorry.”
What the fuck was going on? “For what?”
She shifted but didn’t sit up. She reached out and stroked her fingers down his beard. “Did I wake you?”
That soft touch made his heart seize. “What fuckin’ happened?”
“I... I had a bad dream.”
No shit. “Yeah, figured that. ‘Bout what?”
“About the woods.”
Sig said nothing. Just those three words took him back to that morning.
“When you found me.”
The change she’d gone through the time between that morning and today... Only a week, but she was almost a different person.
Not completely because she still had a long road to travel.
“Can you go back to sleep?” he asked.
“I need to use the bathroom first.”
No shit. He needed to piss like a racehorse, too. “Want me to help you up?”
“I’m very awkward now.” She almost sounded embarrassed about it.
“There’s a fuckin’ reason for that, Red. You still don’t have all your strength back and you’re...”
“Lopsided.”
“Yeah, that,” he said softly. “Lopsided.”
“Sometimes I feel like I’m going to tip over face first.”
“Not a good idea,” he said simply, helping her to get to her feet.
He was surprised to find that she was wearing only a long T-shirt and nothing else. Nothing else. And the T-shirt didn’t cover her below the hips because the size of her belly wouldn’t let it.
Jesus fuck. She was completely naked except for the shirt. Maybe she was more comfortable like that since she probably lived without clothes for months.
Then he realized it was his shirt she wore. Why wasn’t she wearing the maternity nightie Stella bought her instead?
“You’re wearin’ my shirt,” he said, surprised. But for some fucking reason it also pleased him that she was. That was fucked up. It was only an old shirt.
She glanced down and plucked at it with her fingers. “I... I’m sorry... I’ll put it back.”
She reached for the hem and he stopped her by grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze. “No, baby, that’s fine. I don’t mind.”
Christ, he just called her “baby.” He had to still be drunk.
“I’m sorry. I... It’s comfortable. It’s soft and it smells like you.”
It smells like you.
He closed his eyes for a moment.
What the fuck.
What the fuck.
What the fuck!
“Probably needs washed, then,” he quickly said. “Can wear whatever you want of mine, Red, don’t worry about it.”
Plenty of women had worn one of his T-shirts. Usually after sex. But there was something different about Red wearing one.
Totally fucking different.
What the fuck was going on? He had to be still pickled by all the tequila, that was all.
Or maybe he was still high from the pain. From...
Fuck.
Not now. Not now. Not now.
Never again. He needed to find another way.
He followed her to the bathroom, making sure she made it okay. When he got there, he held onto the door jamb to keep himself steady. “Do your thing, then I’ll help you back to bed.” Or at least, make sure you get there since I might not be much fuckin’ help.
Without closing the door, she practically waddled to the toilet and
sat on it, not caring that he stood right there watching her take a piss.
She ripped some toilet paper off the roll and awkwardly wiped between her legs, before reaching behind her, again awkwardly, to flush. “You don’t appreciate things like toilet paper until you don’t have any.”
“What’d they give you?” Her comment might be a good “in” to find out some info.
“Nothing.”
He shouldn’t be surprised. And even though the alcohol running through his system, along with what happened before he got totally fucking blitzed, should keep him on an even keel for a bit, hearing that made his temper wobble again.
He was tempted to help her off the toilet when she struggled, but she managed it on her own and washed her hands.
“Running water, sinks, toilets, I’ll never take them for granted again.”
He struggled to keep his voice even when he asked, “No water, Red?”
She didn’t answer and he stepped backward into the dark hallway when she came his direction, her belly leading the way.
She stopped in front of him, practically toe to toe, tipping her face up to his. “Will you stay?”
His brow dropped low. “Stay? Yeah. I’ll be right on the couch.”
“No. With me. Until I fall asleep.”
“You want that?”
He thought she was going to smile, but she didn’t. It was like she tried but failed. “Yes.”
“Red...”
“That’s okay. You don’t have to.”
Christ. For most women, those words were an attempt at mental manipulation. It was anything but for her. She meant them and wasn’t using them to make him feel fucking guilty.
For fuck’s sake, it made him feel guilty, anyway.
“Lemme piss and then I’ll come in for a bit, yeah?”
“If you’re not comfortable...”
She was worried about him? What the fuck. “Red, worried about you not bein’ comfortable.”
“Then, I wouldn’t have asked.”
Yeah. That.
“’Kay, give me a sec to drain the snake.”
Damn, did she snort?
He smiled and shook his head, moving to stand in front of the toilet and doing it in a way she wouldn’t see his back. He flipped up the seat and dug his dick out of his jeans, pointing it.
“Don’t miss. It’s hard for me to clean around the toilet when you do.”
Every day that she woke up in his apartment, more of what he assumed was her true personality was starting to emerge. Not the ghost of a human he rescued in the woods. “Don’t want you on your knees cleanin’ ‘round the toilet, Red. I’ll get a sweet butt to clean, if need be.”
“What’s a sweet butt?”
Oh fuck. “What we call the women who hang around the club.” They did way more than that, but that was all she had to know for now.
“Like groupies.”
“Yeah, sort of like that.” He shook his dick off and tucked it away, his bladder thanking him for the relief.
“The ones who were... doing things... out in front of everyone... Them.”
Shit. He had no fucking clue how much she witnessed after he left the party. If it was like most parties, it was plenty. He shouldn’t have left her alone. Stupid fuck.
She probably didn’t appreciate watching people getting sucked and fucked in front of her. Maybe that was what spurred the nightmare.
“Yeah, them. Most of them were, yeah. Not all, though.” No, it seemed as word spread about the club, more and more women were interested in bagging a tattooed biker for their own. Even if it was only for a night.
Which was usually all it was.
He turned and saw her still standing in the doorway, her eyes on him. He guessed it was only fair she watched him piss like he did her. An audience didn’t bother him, he’d had no privacy in prison. And most of the time when the club was partying in the courtyard, it was just as easy to whip it out and find a spot nearby to empty the tank.
“Wash your hands,” she ordered.
He lifted his gaze to her, fighting his smirk, but he washed his hands.
He wondered just how fiery that redhead was before ending up in the Shirleys’ hands.
After she was tucked back into bed, he stood there, undecided. He normally didn’t sleep in his jeans unless he landed on the couch and passed out drunk, but he also normally didn’t sleep in bed with her, either.
Usually if a woman was in his bed, they were both naked. Or women, since more often than not, he preferred more than one at a time. Especially the first few days after being released from being locked up. After a long dry spell, he was ready for pussy and lots of it.
But right now there was only one woman in his bed and she was one he couldn’t touch. “Gonna shuck my jeans. You okay with that?”
“I don’t have any pants on, either.”
That didn’t need to be said. “That wasn’t hard to miss, Red.”
“Sorry.”
“No reason to be sorry.”
He heard her inhale. “I minded at first... being naked. Then one day I just... stopped caring.”
Christ! She only gave him glimpses of what happened to her during her time on that mountain and every tiny piece she gave him pissed him the fuck off.
But that reveal gave him another opening. “Why didn’t they give you any clothes?”
“They were afraid I’d do something with them.”
“Like what? Wear ‘em?” he half-joked, not that her situation had been any kind of funny.
“Like kill myself.”
All air fled his lungs as he stared at her. “Would you have?” he whispered, an ache growing deep within his chest.
“Yes,” she whispered back into the dark.
He quickly hooked his thumbs in his jeans and shoved them down his legs, stepping out of them and leaving them where they landed. He headed to his dresser and dug around in the dark until he found a pair of old boxers and tugged them on. Then he headed to the far side of the bed and climbed in.
Fuck, he had missed his mattress. It was like a cloud compared to that fucking couch.
He pulled the sheet over them both and turned to his side to avoid putting weight on his back. Since he had a king bed, he could leave a good-sized gap between them.
With a cute little grunt, she flopped to her back and then rolled to her other side so she was facing him, her belly only about two inches away.
He was once again tempted to touch it.
“You smell like alcohol.”
“Yeah.”
“And pot.”
“Yep. Want me to shower?”
“No. It smells like you.”
Fucking great.
“Are you still drunk?”
“Not like earlier,” he answered honestly. Because he had to have been stupid drunk to do what he fucking did.
“When you left the party in a rush.”
“Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that.”
“No reason to be sorry,” she echoed him from earlier.
“Stella make sure you got back up here okay?”
“Shady.”
It should have been Sig making sure she got upstairs okay. Not the prospect. Goddamn it.
“He’s really nice.”
“Wouldn’t know, he hardly says a fuckin’ word.”
“He does to me.”
What?
She continued, “He’s quiet, but he’s smart. He’s got a lot going on.”
Was he fucking chatting her up? What was his angle? “What d’you mean?”
“In his head. Like me.” Her fingers brushed over his cheek and along his beard. “Like you.”
“Red, need to talk to me.” Not Shady.
She said nothing, but her fingers kept stroking his beard, like she was petting a cat or something. Or like Judge petted Jury. But, fuck, that felt good. Now he knew why the dog fell asleep with her head in the man’s lap while he was stroking her ears.
“If not to me, then Stella. If not
her, then,” fuck it, “Shady. Somebody, Red.”
She still said nothing, and her fingertips traced lightly over his lips.
“Red...”
“Did you find what you need elsewhere?”
His heart began to pound. “What’re you talkin’ about?”
“What you wanted from that woman you were talking to downstairs.”
Should he play dumb? No, that wasn’t going to fucking work. Red was far from stupid. Unlike him. And he’d done it right in The Barn where she could see him doing it. “Billie.”
“Is that her name?”
“Yeah.”
“Yes, then Billie. Did you find elsewhere what you didn’t get from Billie?”
Holy fuck. He should have left her upstairs and not brought her to the party. Another stupid move on his part.
He stilled her hand by capturing it in his, pulling it away from his beard and into his chest. “Go to sleep, Red.”
“I was worried about you.”
“Why?”
“You looked upset.”
“Wasn’t upset.” He was a whole bunch of shit but upset wasn’t one of them.
“Angry, then. When that other man came over and stopped you from talking to Billie.” She paused but before he could respond, she asked, “Did you want to have sex with her?”
He was suddenly finding it hard to breathe. “Red,” he forced out.
“There’s nothing wrong with that, Sig. It’s normal. Most people enjoy it. And as long as both parties agree—”
“Red... Autumn, fuckin’ stop it.” For fuck’s sake, she was good at digging without even trying. Maybe he was wrong and she really was a master manipulator. He had no fucking clue as to what she was really like.
“Why?”
“Didn’t just want sex with her.” Christ, did he just admit that out loud? To Red of all people? For fuck’s sake!
They needed to talk about her, not him.
“I didn’t think so.”
“What?” he choked out.
“I’m not deaf. I can hear conversations that are happening in front of me, Sig. Or even right outside your front door. And I’m also not stupid.”
“Seriously, Red. Need to stop.”
“You wanted me to talk to you.”
“Not about that.”
“Then let’s change the subject,” she suggested.
“How ‘bout you just go to sleep.” He released her hand but she didn’t pull it away, instead she planted her palm on his chest. Her fingers were long and warm against his skin.
Blood & Bones: Sig (Blood Fury MC Book 2) Page 14