The canvas is huge. Half of it is blank with a stark white, while the other side is filled with abstract art. A variety of different colors is swirling and curving in different directions, creating the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“I walked around here last night hopelessly, thinking being surrounded by art would make me feel closer to you, Amelia.” Zeke squeezes my hand. “Of course, it didn’t. I found this painting and saw us. I was blank before you entered my life, and I was blank again without you.”
He points to the vivid side of the painting. “This is how you make me feel, Bluebird. Colorful. I need that. We need that.”
“I feel the same way about you. We need to talk, though, Zeke,” I state. I hate to say that right now when his words mean more to me than anything. But we have to get this over with, so we can get back on our smooth surface again.
“Yes, we do.”
He places his hand on my lower back, guides me to a bench across from the painting, and we sit for several seconds before I speak first.
“I overreacted, and for that I’m sorry. You took me by surprise, and I panicked. What they did to me is unforgivable, Zeke. But to me, the way I treated you, the man I love, was unforgivable, too. I refuse to let them come between the only good thing in my life. That’s you. Us. I’m going to have breakdowns. I’m going to want to succumb to the craving my body is used to feeling. I can’t promise you or me anything except I love you so much that I truly believe our love will get us through every obstacle that’s thrown in our path. I gave you the information to find them. I’m not going to stand in your way if you choose to. I don’t want to discuss them anymore. I also don’t want them to know anything about me. I don’t want them to find me or laugh if they were to find out the things I’ve done. They can’t have the last laugh, Zeke. That is something I won’t allow.”
49
Zeke
The past few days have frayed every single one of my nerves. It’s a love that’s more powerful than I’ve ever imagined. You see this shit in the movies or even read the grand gestures in a novel, but to experience in real life is another thing. I love this woman.
I’ve pushed through three long days of endless work. Without her in my life, there was no clear break between morning and night. The days ran together with me a hollow man going through the motions. Sleeping when I could in my office. Busting my ass to track her family down. Amelia gave me her birth certificate. Right there in black and white sat her name right below her mother’s. Father said ‘unknown.’ It was her mother’s maiden name, but I know who they are. I know where they live. And as I sit here listening to her pour her heart out to me, I decide right there I can’t tell her. She’s telling me she doesn’t want to know. Basically giving me the green light, and I’m going to plow right through it.
It seems I’ve fucked up again, though. Her stepfather is a cardiologist. A well-known surgeon right here in LA. Dr. Salem Foster. I’ve never met the fucker, but I’ve heard of him. His accolades speak volumes. It’s his ethics, his morals, and the mask he hides behind his closed doors that drive my desire to have the man shot dead. No mercy will be given.
I’ve called Saxon and Katch. Filled them in. And I want them gone. Every one of them. The fuckers only chuckled knowing damn well what the plan would be. The fucks probably had intel on them and were only gifting me the power to crush them. But I know there are always eyes on my girl and me. Protecting us. I may not be part of the club, but I’m damn close.
And his son. Dexter. The nerdy fucker who is in his final years of medical school won’t see his first day of becoming a surgeon. The problem is, I’m greedy and want at them first. I want to look them all in the eye. Tell them they didn’t win.
This situation is completely different from the night in the alley. I have to be there. I will be there and even get my hands dirty. Fuck the oath and law. This has to happen, and I’ll wear the blood on my knuckles like a fucking award. I just thank God the filth of the Earth was not on the charity ball invite. Call it a miracle or an act of all the Gods working together, but their evil will not taint the ball.
I shove that all aside. Peer over at the woman I love and grab her face in my hands. I haven’t touched her in days. The longing has beaten me down, and the desire to taste her is choking me to death.
“I forgive you. If you’ll forgive me.” I search her eyes.
They are so bright. So blue and shed so much love for me that if I weren’t sitting down, I would drop to my knees.
“Yes. These past few days have been worse than the entire time I was in rehab. I’m so sorry. I want you to believe me when I say I never want another man to touch me. Not ever. I only want you.”
I close my eyes. I don’t need to tell her those words she threatened me with cut me wide open. I knew the minute I fought through my anger that she said them out of hers.
“I know, baby. This isn’t easy for either one of us. But when I tell you I’m fighting your demons with you and for you, you can’t push me away. I should have approached the subject differently, and for that I’m sorry.”
“No. I shouldn’t have kept their names from you. I should have told you everything. It’s still hard for me to talk about them. I just want to forget. I’ve thought a lot over the past few days. The one thing that kept replaying in my mind was, I’ll never forget what they did to me. I can’t. It’s impossible. But I can move forward. I can have a life, and I want it with you. I’m worth the fight. We’re worth it, Zeke.”
Christ, she is so much wiser than her age. With everything she’s been through, her heart shines above it all.
“I have something for you. I don’t want you to think it’s my intention of buying your forgiveness. I saw it on display when I bought this suit.” I let go of her face, reach into my pocket, and pull out the long blue box.
Her shaky hands take it, placing it in her lap.
“I think the only intention you have is to spoil me.” She giggles.
That sweet sound warms my entire being, slowly placing the shattered pieces back together. I swear to the good God that I never want to live another day not hearing that precious sound.
“One of them,” I say.
“And the others?” She lifts a brow.
“To love you for the rest of my life,” I speak truthfully.
Her brow lifts higher. She was expecting me to say something else. I’ll be damned if I’m throwing a sexual innuendo in there. Even though my cock has been painfully hard since she stepped out of that cab in her simple, beautiful dress.
The one I know Renee bought her at Target. I’ve tried to get her to let me take her shopping, and the only places she wants to go is to Target and Starbucks. It seems my girl has a fashion for bling, too. Found the buckle store online, and now she has about ten pairs of jeans with bling all over her tight little ass. My dick is granite now thinking about her ass.
“Open it,” I rasp out.
I need to stop thinking these thoughts. Her reaction to what I bought her means everything to me, and I won’t lie, I’m nervous as fuck. She gasps when she opens the lid. Her entire body stilling and her eyes focused on the item that lays nestled in the box.
“My sister was raped and killed. She was left dead in an alleyway.”
“What? Oh, my God, Zeke?”
I don’t even wince at that harsh delivery her shocked tone states, because it resembles us to the core. Everything that has been thrown our way has been nothing but shocking. We aren’t a typical couple, nor did we enter into a relationship the way most would be accepted by society. And that’s why I refuse to coat my words right now.
“I’ve lived days and years beating myself up for not being able to save her. Clara was the light in our family. Saxon and I were always by her side. Protecting her from harm while she took care of us. She was the only woman who could keep us in line until she died. Our lives ended that day. Tore a piece of our souls out. Those pieces will never be replaced. Her lifeless and beaten b
ody was still found dead.” I gulp in enough oxygen to power on my words. “I won’t lie, Amelia. The day I saw you lying in that alleyway, it took me straight back to that day and the events that shaped my life after it. Me joining the military and Saxon finding the motorcycle club. You brought it all back to me, but then the joke was still on me, because you brought so much more into my life. You taught me how to live. And for what it’s worth, which to me is everything, my sister is happy for me now. She’s up there smiling, because she knows as well as I do that I have fallen for a woman who loves me for me and I love her for her. Love is complicated. It’s hard, and we are going to have more trying times than we will know what to do with. But a love like ours, one that started out as a friendship and built on trust, that kind of love can never be broken.”
I pull the gem-encrusted watch from the box. It matches mine perfectly but in the feminine aspect. I bring her wrist to my lips and gently kiss her tender skin before clipping the watch around her wrist.
I point to the bright blue gems. “These remind me of you. The color that lights up your eyes. That blue that lives in my dreams and fuels my life. It’s you, Bluebird.”
I pause then tap on one of the light blue gems nestled between diamonds. “This is Clara. She brought me to you. If you chose to wear this and come back to me, she’ll always be a part of us.”
That last part does me in. My words start coming out in choked sobs, hurting my head. I gave her everything in every sense from my words. I laid out all my demons and intentions. Now I can only hope she won’t run away from me again. Amelia is silent for a long time. Her fingers skimming over the piece of jewelry. Stopping when she comes to the stones. Staring down at them. Thinking. Remembering only God knows what. I pray to the same God she’s soaking my words in. That they are hitting the center of her chest.
I notice when her fingers start trembling and a tear drops from her eyes.
“Bluebird, talk to me.” I lean in and kiss the side of her face. Wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. She looks beautiful, yet she looks scared, too. “Say something, Amelia.”
Her wet eyes look up at me. They break me down. Shame is written all over her tortured face. My heart drops.
“Your watch,” she whispers.
“Yes, they match. A reminder of our bond.” I’m a smart man, but right now, I am confused as fuck wondering where she’s going with this.
“No. That’s not it. Not what I mean.” Her voice is harsh and angry.
She begins rolling the watch around her slim wrist. Growing more agitated with each movement.
Her eyes fire to life. A blinding light switches on behind them. “I fell in love with you in the hospital because of your watch.” She isn’t making any sense to me.
I bite down on the inside of my cheek to not assault her with questions, and even more of all the okays and we will get through this. I doubt any of those words could come out if I tried. So, I do the only thing I can. I sit here and wait for the courage I know she has to tell me what she means.
“I used to stare at that fucking watch when you’d take women into the restaurant.”
Hearing her drop the F-bomb and speak so brazenly makes me thankful we are all alone in the museum after hours, giving us the world to let our emotions and feelings to spill over. Not going to lie to myself, either. Hearing her say she watched me with other women from her shadow in hell hurts. I turned a blind eye to knowing she was there.
“That watch of yours kept me alive another day, because I thought if I could only get it off your wrist, I could get high for a good month. I needed, craved, and yearned for that ticking I swear I could hear only to get high. My first memory in the hospital was you at my bedside and the watch. I knew I had to keep you close and get my hands on your watch. Then everything happened so fast. I ended up in rehab with a perfect face and endless options ahead of me.” Amelia pauses, sinking to her knees in front of me. I try to pull her up, but she refuses. Her skin on the marble floor, her palms planted on top of my legs, and those blue eyes pleading up at me. I can’t fucking move.
“I was addicted to everything that made me numb, and sex was the ticket. I came on to Ronan. He refused, but I didn’t stop, and the whole time I thought that if I had that watch, it would solve all my problems until the money ran out and I’d find the next guy with a watch. I was obsessed, sick, and haunted. It’s the reason I’ve always touched the watch mindlessly, because I don’t want it anymore. It’s my silent alarm never to step backward. It was my anchor. I can’t go on without you. I’m sick, Zeke, and always will be. There’s no excuse for any of it. I don’t deserve your gift.”
My heart cracks and shatters. I’d really thought not having this woman in my life for three days was the worst possible scenario, but after experiencing the silence before the storm I know I was completely wrong in every possible way, Amelia on her knees before me with her pleading eyes focused on me while she bears her soul to me is my final cracking point.
“You’re healing, but you sure the hell aren’t sick. You’ll be an addict the rest of your life whether it be basketball or art. You will always be addicted. We all have addictions, Amelia. You deserve the power to choose them.”
This is not how I pictured this night would end. What I’m about to do, it’s the only thing I can think of to give her that choice. Not one person on this planet has given her that power. Yes, she has a tight circle of friends, and even though we fought to not shelter her, we have.
This woman before me must fly. The world is her destination to pick from. The world is hers, and I’m okay with that. Never thought I’d be man enough to do this, but it’s time for Amelia to finally fly on her own.
I unclasp the watch from my wrist, not ignoring the fact she watches my every move. I hold it in front of her, and when she doesn’t open her palm, I take her hand in mine and place it in hers.
“I’d give you the world, Amelia. Everything. This is yours, and now you have a watch on your wrist worth double the one I just placed in your hand. It’s all yours.” I swallow down the tears to get the rest out. Nobody said it was easy. “I love you. Never thought a love like ours existed. You know where home is. You have the world now. It’s time to fly, Bluebird.”
I stand, pausing briefly before I stride out of the museum. I call one cab for me and one for Amelia, giving the cab company my credit card number. Fuck, they could run my accounts dry, and I’d be fine with it as long as her choice is me.
I’ve learned over the past months that life has different paths for all of us, and I’d never push mine on anyone else.
I leave the museum without a doubt in my mind that she’ll make the right choice.
50
Amelia
His scent lingers long after he’s gone. My kneecaps are numb while my skin prickles. He gave me the world, stood up, and left. I have that damn watch in my palm. The one thing I craved to get my next high. Zeke gave it to me and left.
His words were brash but not cruel. It was the glimmer in his eyes that told me he trusted my decision. He wants me to make my it on my own. To see if our love is stronger than my addiction. The underlying tone in his words. Trust.
I have no idea how long I stay on the floor before my spine begins to grow numb. I manage to get up to my feet and sit on the bench, immediately missing him sitting by my side. I stare at the painting and see the whole circle come to life once again. I was blank once and now I’m not at all. My world is full of color and the choices in front of me to be made.
I stand up and inch closer and closer until the tip of my nose nearly grazes the canvas. The artwork circling in my mind. My eyes scanning until everything clicks. It all comes together. I bend, look down, and gasp.
Amelia Moore.
I jump back clutching my chest. I’m taken back to the night Zeke gave me my future in the form of my art room. Endless hours spent in the studio brushing all the hues on canvases. It was all the blank ones that drew me in. Then I look closer, and I realize the art
work is a collage of all my work in the form of abstracts. Pieces of sunsets, pools, and everything else thrown together, creating the perfect abstract piece.
There’s a pixel effect to the side with colors, which makes everything come full circle for my time with Zeke. I clutch his watch tighter in my grip. The name should read Zeke Hartley under the piece of art. Not mine. It’s clear he took the photo to give to someone to put together this piece. He believed in me. So obsessed with my talent and his love for me that he did this. I didn’t even realize all these paintings were gone. “Oh, my God.”
I clutch tighter to the watch in my palm. The harsh metal slicing into my skin. I have it. I have him. He gave it all just like he promised. This is so hard to understand, but I do. The cold metal that warms instantly to my touch burns my skin. I rise slowly, knowing exactly where this lustrous watch belongs, and it’s not with me.
My feet scramble, the high heels upon my feet knowing their destination, each clattering sound leading me toward home. They all say it’s the rush before the high, but I beg to differ; it’s your next flight to fly.
The evening air is still and void of any life when I rush outside. The cold metal is piercing into my skin, and that’s when I know where home is.
“Ma’am. Are you Amelia Moore?”
I jump out of my skin at the calling of my name by a man getting out of a cab. I clutch the watch to my chest. My heart is beating so fast.
“A man named Zeke Hartley called in and made it perfectly clear that whoever came here was to wait for you,” he says politely.
When Opposites Collide Boxset Page 39