by Ryan Michele
He exhales. “When I was asked how you were, I answered honestly. That I’m worried about you, that you have something inside that is eating at you, and I need to help you—whatever it is—because I want to see the smiles and laughter again. That’s when your father called it. But, beautiful, I wanted Deke to talk, too, so I’m not puttin’ it all on your dad. Deke went to bat for you. That man is loyal to the core.”
I repeatedly twist my hands in my lap, listening to him, unsure of how to feel. I want to be pissed and smack him upside the head. Part of me wants to storm out of the room or yell at him, but none of that comes. The pain is there, though, like he sliced through my heart and soul, leaving me bleeding in front of everyone, exposing me for the horrible person I am.
“I’m sorry, Austyn.” He turns his body fully toward me, cocking his knee up and pressing it into the back of the couch. “Would you have told me if I asked?”
“No.” The answer is immediate. I would’ve gone to the grave with it, which had been the plan all along. No one would ever know. It’s another reason JK needs to be dealt with. He can never reveal it.
It was going to be the one secret that would never come to light, but that was all a lie, which scares me.
“How do you feel now that it’s out there?”
I cross my arms over my chest, trying to cover the hole I feel there. I need a shield of protection and a way to guard myself. Two of them, because I feel very exposed, like he’s cutting me open raw, stripping me down to nothing.
My skin prickles with awareness, and a shiver races down my spine. Hesitation creeps in, coating me in a shroud. If only I could disappear under it.
Taking a deep breath, I answer, “Scared about what everyone will think of me. That they’ll look at me differently.” I look down at my hands, not wanting to make eye contact with him. “Relieved that I don’t have to hold it all in anymore. But I’m still pissed at you.”
His smile is wide and one I could get lost in, unable to break away from. Whenever he’s around, the keeping my distance thing lasts a minute before the walls just crumble. I should be pissed at him for that, too; add it to the shit pile.
“Be pissed, beautiful. That’s fine. I’ll take it. But you don’t need to be scared. Who gives a fuck what others think? That has no bearing on you whatsoever. Their thoughts and opinions are theirs, not yours. Whatever they say or how they act is on them, not you. Not only that, I’ll beat the shit out of ’em.”
My lips tip up as his words wrap around me like a warm blanket. A blanket that is covering the bloody wounds deep inside, slowly stopping the flow.
We sit in silence, but it’s comfortable. The anger is still there, but it’s fizzled quite a bit. I’m not sure what to make of that.
A yawn escapes me, and before I can say anything, Ryker has my head on his chest, remote in his hand, and I’m fast asleep.
The night ended up chaotic. My mother, father, Angel, GT, and pretty much anyone in the clubhouse they could round up, came to my small apartment. They spilled out the front door and balcony, each of them with pointed stares at me. They already knew, so I was happy I didn’t have to tell the story again.
They were there for moral support, which felt nice. My mother, on the other hand, was pissed.
“Austyn! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this,” my mother says, closing the door to my room for privacy. She’d been waiting to attack and found an opening.
“Mom …”
“Don’t you mom me. I would’ve been there for you. We could’ve talked, and I could’ve helped you. You didn’t have to do this alone.”
I see the instant my mother’s anger turns to sadness as her face drops.
“It’s over with now. Thank you for that. I need it, but it’s over, and there’s no reason now to be upset about it.”
That was the moment she wrapped me in her arms and hugged me so tightly I thought she would break me.
The other kicker was the appearance of Leah, which is still rolling around in my head.
“Austyn,” Bristyl introduces. “This is Leah, Green’s woman.”
Giving a soft wave, I say, “Hi.”
My legs tremble, knowing exactly what this woman has gone through and noting its similarities to my situation.
Leah is beautiful with short dark hair and brown eyes.
“Thought we could go in your room and chat,” Bristyl announces before leading us to my room. I’ve already been in here once with my mother. Maybe this should be the party stop, instead.
Leah fiddles with her hands, worry lining her face. Her chest heaves up and down rapidly.
Bristyl puts her arm around Leah, and she jumps, then she seems to be okay.
“You don’t have to talk about anything,” I reassure her, seeing a small bit of relief cross her features.
I watch as she breathes in and out slowly. It’s an amazing thing to watch, when a woman pulls up courage from down deep.
“It does get better,” she starts, having my full attention. “It’s hard. There’s pain, and the fear will sometimes override you, but you need to ride it out. It’s not easy. It actually sucks, but it’s necessary. It’s been months and months since …” She shakes her head. “And I still have a hard time talking about it. But each day is better. Keep your chin up and never let the past define who you are. Never let what happened to you take away your happiness in life, because you only get one. One life to make work for you and do the best you can. Don’t let the actions of someone else dictate how that life will be lived.”
She exhales deeply and sits on my bed, looking as if she spent every last bit of energy she had inside her to say those words. I hate that she’s so broken. Is that what I look like?
“Thank you, Leah.” I sit next to her. “It is hard, and I appreciate you saying those words.”
She looks up at me, her eyes haunted.
“Seems you need to follow your own advice.” I give her a soft smile in hopes she’ll be able to relax a bit.
“I’m working on it. Every day is a challenge, but it’s coming.”
After that conversation, fatigue from everything settled deeply inside my bones.
Ryker ended up sleeping on the couch. I told him I needed space, which wasn’t a lie. I used that time to try to build my walls back up and use concrete to keep them in place. It didn’t work. Leah’s words continually ran through my head like alarm bells, not shutting off throughout the night.
This morning when Ryker drove me to work, he grabbed my hand and kissed the top of it, saying nothing, but his touch was everything. Comforting and honest.
Now he sits in the salon’s waiting area, playing on his phone, moving his thumbs quickly across the screen.
Two women, a couple of chairs down, ogle him, their eyes filled with lust and want. Not that they can be blamed for that. Ryker is hot; there’s no question about that.
Life must go on, and there is work to be done.
My mom always said that the true measure of a woman is how they deal with problems. Now that task lays directly in my lap.
“There you go, Althea. All curled and colored.” I turn her so she faces the mirror, and her face lights up.
Her hand goes up to her hair. “Oh, I love it! Thank you, dear!”
That is the one thing all clients do. As soon as I get their hair done, they have to run their hands through it like they have some magical touch that will make the hair just perfect. To each their own. You get used to it.
Althea hands me a tip then moves to the front of the building to the cashier counter. After cleaning up, I walk up to Ryker, purse in hand, and his head comes up from the phone.
“Time to go.”
He moves quickly. So quickly I try to hold in a laugh. He doesn’t like it here, and I can’t blame him one bit. Being around women all day is hard, and I’m one who he doesn’t get a break from.
Sometimes women are catty or talk behind each other’s back. They’ll make plans with two of them and leave a thir
d out. Women, at least here at the salon, are so different than men.
Men, they’ll fight it out and be down with whatever is bothering them. Women can hold a mean grudge. Something that happened years ago, they can hold it over your head forever. My mother, though, is a fighter. Put up or shut up. I go with her way of thinking.
“Let’s go to dinner.”
My stomach takes that moment to rumble. That’s the thing about Ryker—it doesn’t embarrass me one bit.
“Dinner it is.”
Nerves light off like firecrackers as we sit in a booth at the local mom and pop shop. Him on one side, me on the other.
There are so many things to talk about, yet I don’t want to talk about any of them. I wish I could just disappear sometimes and not be an adult. Forget having to make decisions and thinking. Just be free again to think the world is perfect and the bad stuff will never touch me.
That’ll never happen again. Adulting sucks.
After we order, the waitress brings us our drinks. I twirl my straw in my cup, knocking the ice around, not sure what to say or what to do at this point.
Ryker breaks the silence. “Talk to me, Austyn. I know you’re pissed at me, but talk to me.”
I’m not even sure what to say, so I just open my mouth and let it roll. “Never again, Ryker. Swear to me that as long as we know each other, you will never ever repeat my business to others.”
He leans back in his seat. “I reserve the right to break the rule if it means helping you.”
“No. That’s not going to work.”
He leans into the table, his elbows on it, his face close to mine. “It has to work because I’ll do whatever I have to, to keep you safe. I’ll break anyone who stands in my way of it. You will be safe, and you will be loved. There’s no question about that in my eyes.”
While what he said was sweet, it also pisses me off.
I clasp my hands in front of me, lacing my fingers together so I don’t scratch his eyeballs out. “So, you’ll tell the club everything I tell you?”
“You’re not listening. I said I’ll do whatever I have to, to protect you. If that means pushing something like the other night, then so be it. It doesn’t mean I’ll go to the club, or anyone for that matter, and talk about private things. There’s a huge fuckin’ difference there.”
“How am I supposed to trust you, Ryker?” That’s the biggest thing right now, and it kills that I don’t. Before, I trusted him enough to touch me and make me come several times. I’ve trusted no other man to do that ever. I gave him that part of me, which is really the only thing I have to give—me.
Ryker loves you, Austyn. Emery’s words ring in my head, making my heart crack. This is why I need to stay away from this man. I knew the friend thing wouldn’t work. My feelings for him are too strong, and having him around me all the time only reinforces them. It’s too difficult to keep them at bay.
Part of me wants to tell him why I had to get rid of my baby. That way, he’ll know and won’t want anything to do with me. I’ll be done with all this. I can focus on JK without Ryker clouding up my thoughts all the time, knowing he’ll disappear without a glance back.
“I’m going to ask Dad to assign me a new bodyguard.”
Ryker’s jaw drops, and it takes him a moment to respond. “No fuckin’ way. I fucked up, but you’re not gonna push me away. You’re not dirty. You’re fuckin’ beautiful, and I’ll make sure you know it.”
I shake my head. “This is too hard for me.” The words escape before I want them to.
“Being around me is too hard? Why is that, Austyn? Because you have feelings for me and you’re fighting them?”
“No.” The denial is immediate.
His voice dips low, almost threatening. “Don’t lie to me, Austyn.”
“Don’t you get this? It can never work between you and me.”
“It has been for the last few weeks,” he counters without hesitation.
He has me there. Despite the hiccup the other night, things have been going well. Too well.
“I can’t just wipe it away and pretend the other night didn’t happen.”
“Stop deflecting.”
I stomp my foot in frustration right as the waitress brings our food out, placing our plates in front of each of us, then leaves.
“Can we just eat and talk about this again … never?”
“When we get home.” He takes a bite of his burger.
This discussion is going to rip me apart.
Can’t he see my resolve is broken? Can’t he feel the pain this causes me?
I study Ryker. His eyes meet mine. Confusion laces with my determination.
He wants to help me.
Emery once again plays in my mind. Ryker loves you.
The more I try to untangle myself, the deeper I seem to pull myself in.
Chapter Seventeen
Screaming tears from Austyn’s room in a murderous cry. I jump up from the couch, gun in hand, and charge down the hallway. Her door is locked, so I kick it open. The wood goes flying, smashing into the wall behind it just as Austyn pops up from bed, fear and worry on every bit of her face. Her breathing is hard and ragged. Sweat glistens off her, making her hair stick to her body.
Glancing around the room, I find everything is secure.
I rush to her, sitting on the bed. “What’s wrong?”
Her eyes are glazed over. She’s here, but she’s not.
“Austyn!” Her name said loudly snaps her into the present, the fog evaporating. She looks at me panicked, but it’s not from me; it’s from her dream. It has ahold of her still.
I pull her stiff body into my arms, wrapping her in my warmth. She doesn’t do anything except breathe, her body stiff. She’s remembering, and I hate that I can’t wipe those memories away and take on her pain.
Rubbing her arms up and down, she begins to get her breathing regulated. I maneuver us so my back is to the headboard and her body is against my bare chest.
“You’re alright, beautiful. I got you.”
She nods absently.
We sit there for a while, me rubbing her back in even strokes and her coming out of wherever her mind had taken her. Not wherever. I know where it took her. I hate that I can’t go inside her head and erase those memories for her.
Her head comes up and she sits up on the bed next to me, her head in her hands. “Sorry,” she whispers.
“I’ve slept in this bed numerous times, and you didn’t have any nightmares.”
Her vacant eyes rip my soul in half, but her words gut me deeper than a blade ever could. “That’s because you were with me.”
That’s enough of this.
I lie fully down on the bed and pull her to my chest. She doesn’t fight, just relaxes against me.
“Sleep, beautiful. I got you.”
She finds sleep, but I have a difficult time.
Damn woman is driving me crazy. I’ve given her two days. That’s all she’s getting. I’m not sleeping on the fucking couch one more night. Being patient and gentle is only getting me so far. She needs to get over this hump she’s trying desperately to put between us. Tonight is the last straw. No more sleeping alone for her.
The wall she’s wanted to put in place isn’t working. As much as Austyn wants it to, it’s not. When she doesn’t think, she leans into me or touches me like it’s the most familiar thing she’s ever done in her life. Those are the times, the unguarded, that tell me how she really feels. Those are the ones I’m listening to now.
She can fight it all she wants, but she’s not going to win this battle. Her brain just needs to catch up with her body and heart so we can be on the same page.
This is a long shot, but I’ve been to the gym with Austyn and seen she can kick some serious ass, so this should be a walk in the park for her.
“Come on; put some tennis shoes on and let’s go.”
She looks up from the magazine she’s been staring at aimlessly. “Where are we going?”
�
��Surprise. Let’s go.”
Her hand goes to her hip in that sexy stance that she thinks intimidates me. “I don’t like surprises.” This is so untrue. The past three years for her birthday, her mother has given her little things from out of left field that she never would’ve thought of. One was a locket that used to be Ma’s, then Princess’, and now Austyn has it. She loved it so much she cried.
“Bullshit.”
“Don’t you bullshit me,” she snaps back.
I enjoy her spark coming through, even if she’s a little irritated with me. It makes it all the sexier.
“Call it like I see it. Time’s a wastin’. Get a move on, woman.”
Those damn block walls she still tries to put up around her every day are what I fight every moment. She hides behind them so damn often and won’t allow herself to be happy. She needs to come to terms with her abortion and what happened with JK. It’s a shit hand, but she needs happiness.
Austyn huffs out a hasty breath, but does what I asked and goes into her room, coming out with her lips in a flat line. Goal for the day: make her smile as much as possible.
I open the door. “After you, beautiful.”
She says not a word, but moves out the door. Securing it, we walk to the parking lot.
“Are we going on your bike?” Her face lights up, and the tension in her body seems to relax.
“Absolutely.” I lean in close to her ear and whisper, “And you have to hold on tight.”
Her body jolts, and I swear I hear her sigh. Yeah, still fighting it.
Sledgehammer is out and ready for business. She better watch the fuck out.
When I grab her hand to lead her to the bike, she doesn’t recoil.
I love my ride, a Harley Davidson Night Rod. Everything is straight black with chrome tips on the exhaust. The design of the bike is all curves. It’s a fluid piece with no fucking sissy bar.
Swinging my leg over, I motion for her to get on the bitch seat. With a smirk that I’m counting on as a smile, she throws her leg over and straddles my beast beautifully.
Always knew she’d look gorgeous on the back of my bike.