by Elle Rease
Tears caused her vision to blur. “I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want.”
“You do, every single day, simply by being alive.”
Before she could reply with her own romantic words, there was a loud bang against the front door. “Who could that be?”
“Stay here.”
She ignored him, wrapping a robe around her body as she followed him downstairs. Thankfully, he had a sheet around his waist. When Brennan pulled the door open, she had to peek past his shoulder to see who was causing such a ruckus. Her jaw just about dropped to the floor at the sight on the other side.
Byron was swaying, looking worse for wear, with red-rimmed eyes and a suspiciously similarly-colored nose. “Bren,” he murmured, as if in a trance.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Brennan growled threateningly, crossing his arms over his tattooed chest.
Byron’s gaze found hers. “Cin, I’m so—”
“You think coming here, drunk and drugged up, will make me feel sorry for you?” Brennan interrupted. “We patched you in, thinking that you’re responsible enough to look after the VP’s old lady, but then you show up drunk when you’re supposed to be keeping her safe?”
“Cin, help me,” Byron pleaded. His eyelids drooped and he looked a little green. “I don’t want to… mess up anymore.”
Brennan blocked Byron’s view of her. “Get the fuck out of here.”
“I just…” Byron heaved and slapped a hand over his mouth. “I—”
Cinnia pushed Brennan out of the way as her friend’s knees buckled. To her horror, Byron threw up on her feet and began shaking violently. “Bren, call an ambulance!”
“Fucking junkie,” she heard Brennan mutter under his breath as he stormed into the house.
She cradled Byron’s head in her lap and stroked his matted hair. He smelled rancid, but he needed her help and she wasn’t going to turn her back on him. “By, why’d you let it go this far?” she whispered.
His eyes were unfocused and glassy while shivers wracked his frame. “I don’t… want to… hurt…”
“Shh, it’s okay,” she soothed, “I’m here. It’s going to be okay.”
“At least he came to us for help,” Brennan muttered once he returned, phone in hand. “Ambulance is on its way.”
“S-s-sorry, B-bren,” Byron stuttered.
“You fucking better be.”
“I knew something was wrong.” Her eyes connected with Brennan and she felt a tear slip off her cheek. “Earlier today, I had such a bad feeling in my gut, but I thought it was stress over the doctor’s verdict.”
“Cin, you couldn’t have saved him,” her husband said firmly.
And as Cinnia heard the sirens in the distance, she tried to come to terms with a day that had started out with such promise but had ended in a giant heap of steaming shit. She couldn’t bear to lose Byron and was happy that he’d sought their assistance so quickly. At the same time, there was a part of her that wished he’d gone to someone else: she had enough of her own psychological issues to deal with.
“Lass, it’ll be okay,” Brennan told her quietly, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “I’m right here.”
She took strength from that, knowing that she was going to need it.
Chapter Twenty
When Byron arrived at her house, begging for help, Cinnia had thought the hardest part was over. The joke was on her.
The ride to the hospital was the longest of her life. She’d insisted on being in the ambulance with Byron, even though she wasn’t a blood relation or his girlfriend, while Brennan trailed behind on his Harley. She clutched the boy’s hand, shivering every time he did, feeling his pain as if it was her own.
His body was covered in a sheen of sweat. The paramedics hadn’t sedated him, explaining that they need to know what drugs he had used before they could adequately estimate what he’ll need. Cinnia wiped stray tears from her face as she tried to understand what must’ve been going through Byron’s head in order to do something like this.
She supposed she hadn’t necessarily been the most beautiful woman in the world, beaten up and passed out in an alleyway, about to be raped. The fact that Byron had blacked out from rage and managed to fight those sick fucks until they’d run off—like the cowards they had been—at the sound of sirens, probably gave an indication of how badly her attack had affected him.
Byron was still in school. Yes, by signing up to be a Raptor he had invited violence into his life, but what had happened to Cinnia was a rarity in the MC. Usually, the blood and gore was limited to beef between motorcycle clubs, especially in others.
They arrived at the hospital, snapping Cinnia out of her worry for this boy. She still couldn’t really comprehend their bond. Had it been there before her ambush, or had it been forged after? Was it normal to become so close to someone after a traumatic experience? Sure, she was more protective over Piper, too, but they’d been friends for a while. Byron had been a prospect who’d hung around her whenever Brennan needed him to…
What was it about him?
“Ma’am, you have to let go now.”
She blinked out of her stupor, realizing that they were already in the hospital. The paramedics have handed over to the nursing staff, who were wheeling Byron to the emergency ward and, because she was glued to his hand, they needed her out of the way.
Swallowing, Cinnia asked: “Is there no way I can go with him?”
“No, ma’am,” the nurse in charge replied firmly.
“But I—”
“Cin.”
She glanced over her shoulder and relaxed slightly at the sight of her husband. He was holding his hand out to her.
“Give them some room, lass,” he urged kindly.
Reluctantly, she stepped away, her eyes following Byron until he disappeared into the emergency ward. She let out the breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding and rubbed her temples. Brennan’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her into his warmth.
“I brought you clothes.”
She flushed, embarrassed. “Why am I always showing up indecently dressed at this place?”
“Maybe you should look into that,” he chuckled, kissing her forehead. He handed her a leather satchel. “Go get dressed. I’ll get us some coffee and meet you in the waiting area.”
“Bren?”
He gazed at her. “Hmm?”
“I love you.” She stood on tiptoes to kiss him, wishing they hadn’t left the bed. Knowing that they had to, to save Byron… “You’re awesome.”
“I’ve been telling you,” he teased, giving her behind a playful spank.
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Now you’ve gone and ruined it.”
“I’ll pretend I believe you.”
“Walking away now.”
“Gives me a much better view of your ass, anyway.”
She shook her head with a laugh. “Bren, stop it!”
“I didn’t pack any underwear!” he called after her. “Don’t know why you were wearing them today!”
That blush came back with a vengeance, especially at the curious looks the other people in the area were sending her way. She had no witty comeback, and perhaps that was just as well, considering their audience.
She was the only one in the bathroom, so she locked the main door and cleaned up, paying special attention to her feet. She opened the bag and smirked. Brennan wasn’t lying: he’d only packed leather pants and one of his T-shirts, along with her favorite sneakers. She braided her hair and splashed her face with cold water, before staring at her reflection.
Ever since those men had beat her to within an inch of her life, she sometimes found it difficult to associate the woman in the mirror with her, Cinnia Drummond. According to her shrink, it was a coping mechanism, a way for her to externalize what had been done to her in order to make it easier to deal with. If it had happened to that Cinnia, the one outside, she didn’t have to process her emotions.
This woman with the pa
le skin, thick black hair, big green eyes and pink mouth… This wasn’t her. This was the shell, the surface, the vehicle for her soul. The woman inside was haunted by dark memories and a depression that could bring her to her knees.
The door knob wriggled, followed by a few knocks, a reminder that she wasn’t the only one that needed the toilet.
She grabbed a paper towel to dry her skin, chucked it in the bin, stuffed her robe in the satchel and unlocked the door. “Sorry,” she muttered to the woman on the other side, going down the hallway to the waiting room. She paused at the threshold, gaze riveted on her husband.
Brennan was the most remarkable man she’s ever known, so much so that she knew he could do better than her, especially now that she was so complicated. She wanted to tell him about how she didn’t always want to get out of bed, but she was scared he would leave her if he knew. She wasn’t the free, light-hearted girl he’d fallen in love with anymore.
His ice blue eyes made contact with hers, beating her fears into submission. They up and disappeared when he smiled, those studs in the corners of his bottom lip glinting in the fluorescent light of the hospital. One look, and she forgot about her worries. That was his superpower.
“Much better,” he said approvingly, looking her up and down. “Can’t wait to take that off you later.”
“Now that the ice has been broken, you’re going to make me regret it, huh?” she grinned, sashaying over to him.
“Aye.”
“Just remember that I’m in control.”
“I will, if you can.”
She accepted the cup of coffee with red cheeks. How was she supposed to dominate if he was so damn good at it?
“Love that about you,” he whispered, nuzzling her flaming skin. His lips went to her earlobe. “Are you okay?”
“Not really.”
“Thank you for being honest.” He straightened and tilted her chin up, concern etched in the lines around his eyes. “What’s going on?”
“I want Byron to be okay,” she responded quietly. “I hate that he was using, but he doesn’t deserve to… I don’t want him to…”
“Lass, he’s not going to die,” Brennan soothed. “He came to us for a reason.”
“What if it’s too late?”
“It’s not.”
“And what if, after this, he just starts using again?”
He was silent for a while, stroking his thumb over her cheek. “Then there’s nothing we can do about it, unfortunately.”
“Bren—”
“I know this is difficult,” he interrupted, “but Byron’s either going to sort his life out, or he isn’t. You have to be prepared for both possibilities, because it’s going to be hard, either way. If he goes to rehab, he has to abstain from alcohol and drugs for the rest of his life. You know how the MC drinks, so can you imagine what he’s up against?”
She sipped on her coffee, realizing Brennan had a point.
“If he relapses, on the other hand, it’s going to be hell on all of us. He’ll probably get kicked out of the MC if it causes shit for us. He’s important to me because of you, but if he puts anyone’s life in danger, I won’t hesitate to cut him off.”
“That’s fair.” There was an inexplicable lump in her throat at the thought of Byron leaving the Raptors. “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“Aye, me neither.”
“Did you call anyone about this?”
Brennan nodded. “Teagan. They’re on their way.”
Her eyebrows drew together. “Why’d you phone him?”
“Because you need Piper.”
“Bren, you…” She laughed softly and pressed her mouth to his. “You think of everything.”
“If that’s your way of saying ‘thank you’—”
Her lips fused to his, her tongue delving inside. She shifted on the uncomfortable seat, angling her body to his and wrapping her arms around his neck. Her coffee sloshed over the edges of the cup, spilling on her hand and the back of his shirt, but she didn’t care. She was crazy about her hot, badass biker husband and he had the right to know it.
Brennan’s hand dove under the shirt she was wearing, cupping her breast and pinching her erect nipple. She arched into him, the fingers of her free hand raking through his long hair. His mouth ran down her neck while his hand massaged her breast. His other hand was pulling down the zip of her leather pants.
Her heartbeat accelerated and she was gasping for air. He was going to fuck her, right here in the waiting room, and she couldn’t contain herself. She was aching for him to bend her over and drive so far into her that she won’t remember anything.
He pushed her back and shoved her legs apart, that adventurous hand going to her damp core. She tilted her hips up, trying to make it easier for him even though this chair was killing her, and moaned once the next tug on her nipple sent an electric current to her clit.
He had two fingers in her tight channel by the time she became aware of an awkward silence, his face buried in her neck. Her eyelids fluttered open and a bucket of ice stopped her runaway arousal in its tracks.
Teagan and Piper were standing in the doorway, frozen to the spot, with wide eyes.
“Bren,” Cinnia warned huskily.
He misinterpreted her breathy tone, adding another finger and going deeper than before. This dragged a soft cry from her before she could stop it. From where they were sitting, it would be difficult for her brother and his girlfriend to see much.
It made it no less awkward. The looks on their faces assured Cinnia that they knew exactly what was going on.
She smacked her husband’s shoulder. “Bren, stop.”
He pulled back immediately, stunned. She never told him to stop. His gaze darted to where she was looking and she could feel the vibe in the room change, instantly. Just like that, he had complete control over himself.
She admired and hated his restraint.
“Give us a second,” Brennan grumbled to Teagan and Piper.
That brought them back to the present moment. They cleared their throats and turned around in unison.
“I’m sorry, lass.” Brennan pulled his fingers out of her and sighed deeply. “I should’ve taken us somewhere private.”
“I attacked you,” she reminded him. Her core was clenching greedily, weeping at the loss of his touch. “It’s my fault.”
“Still,” he argued lightly. He licked her essence from his skin and growled at the back of his throat. “Wish we didn’t have to stop.”
Considering that he just made the sexiest noise in the world? Yeah, she didn’t want to stop, either. “Let’s go to—”
“Later.” He kissed her softly and got up, shifting his erection in his pants. “I’ll go get you another coffee.”
Right, she’d spilled half of hers. Whoops.
Brennan zipped her up, dropped a quick kiss on her forehead and sauntered out of the room. Piper peeked inside, relieved that Cinnia was modest.
“I’m sorry we interrupted.”
Cinnia blushed. “I’m glad you did. Would’ve been worse if it was someone else.” She flinched as she made eye contact with her brother. “Okay, so maybe not worse.”
“No shit,” he muttered.
“Thanks for coming.” Her choice of words sucked at this point. She coughed uncomfortably. “I mean, I—”
“Jesus, Cin, don’t make it so weird.”
Piper slapped Teagan’s arm. “Go get me a coffee.”
“But Bren—”
“Go,” she insisted, narrowing her eyes.
Teagan huffed a breath and left, unable to resist the love of his life.
“I’m really sorry you had to see that,” Cinnia mumbled.
“Oh please, if it wasn’t for Teagan, I probably would’ve barged in here as if nothing was wrong.”
Cinnia cringed at that scenario. “Crisis averted.”
“Exactly. Plus, it’s cool that you and Bren are still so passionate about each other.” Piper looked away. “It m
akes me enthusiastic about getting married one day.”
“You know that’s where Teagan’s aiming, right?”
“Yeah, I know. Maybe just not as soon as I want it, but that’s okay.”
“I think you’re wrong.”
Piper waved that away, tucking her blonde curls behind her ears. “So, how are you holding up? Is Byron in bad shape?”
“Yes,” Cinnia admitted. “I’m worried about him.”
“It’s a good sign that he came to you.”
“That’s what Bren keeps telling me.”
“You have to believe that’s true, Cin.”
“I just don’t want anything to happen to him.” Cinnia sniffed as Piper squeezed her hand. “He has to be okay.”
“He will be, sis.” Piper hugged Cinnia tightly. “Stop worrying so much and tell me what the doctor said.”
God, was that really earlier today? It felt like ages ago already. Cinnia held the hug, not ready to let go, and noticed that Piper’s hair was damp. “You were busy before you came here.”
“Not with anything awfully important.” Piper pulled away and wiggled her eyebrows. “Just trying to make a baby.” Her eyes widened. “Not that we’re trying, I just meant—”
Cinnia laughed. “I get it. Guess Bren and I aren’t the only two frisky ones around.”
“Definitely not, so don’t feel bad.” Making an impatient gesture with her hand, Piper said: “So, spill it. What did the doctor say?”
Cinnia wasn’t an idiot: she knew Piper was doing this on purpose, to distract Cinnia from Byron. She welcomed the attempt, even though it wasn’t really working. They were in a hospital, talking about doctors. It was going to take more than that to get Cinnia’s mind off Byron.
“Well, I’m allowed to have sex, although we shouldn’t be rough.”
“So, you’re not having sex.”
Cinnia blushed. “Hey, just because I like it rough doesn’t mean we don’t have sex any other way.”
Piper pretended to be unconvinced. “Uh-huh, sure.”
“You’re horrible.”
“At least I’m not sad because I’m not getting whipped.”
“Have you been whipped?”
“Hell no!”