by K E Osborn
My head bobs twice as her smile shines like the stars in the night sky. I have to stop to admire her. She’s so beautiful as she slides her hand in, moving some of my hair away from my face in a soothing gesture. “You’re okay now, just keep taking deep breaths. Your room is ready for you. I’ll take you there where you can sleep this off. Okay?” she asks.
I glance to Dad with a forlorn look while he rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Dad,” I murmur.
He lets out a small groan dropping to his knees, reaching out, grabbing my hands. “Baby, you have nothing to be sorry for. I should have seen this coming. I know the signs well enough. I should have known coming to a new place and seeing Trax again would be too much for you. I’ve failed you, Mylee. You rest, then we’ll find another solution to our problem.”
I sniff. “We have nowhere else I can go, Dad. No one knows how to handle me when I’m like this. Trax has seen it. If he’s willing to look after me, then this is the best place for me.”
His calloused fingers rub over the back of my hand as he looks into my eyes. “We can talk about it after your rest. Let Neala take you to bed.”
Recognition soars through me. That’s who she is, Trax’s kid sister. She seems so grown up.
“I’m sorry you all had to see me like this,” I murmur.
“Don’t be silly,” Neala deflects placing her arm under mine, helping me from the floor.
I feel weak. I always feel tired after an episode, and while this wasn’t a major one, I still feel drained. I need to sleep. Let the medication take hold, let it alter the chemistry in my brain. Bring me back to functioning normally again. Calm me down.
I hate I’ve allowed myself to get worked up, I know better than this. I detest it even more that I can’t switch off my thoughts—the ones racing through my mind. I glance around the room to see everyone’s watching me. Judging me. Clenching my jaw, I try not to let my irrational thoughts take over again, but it’s hard.
I’m not thinking straight right now.
I need to sleep.
“Neala, can you stay with her till she falls asleep?” Dad calls out as we start to head off.
I inwardly cringe as she walks with me to the sleeping quarters. I know why he’s done this. I’m on suicide watch, but he should know I’m nowhere even close to that. He’s completely overreacting. But I get it. After what we went through with Mom, I understand how protective he is with me. After every episode, no matter how small, he’s cautious. He doesn’t want to lose me the way we lost Mom.
Neala simply takes my arm as we head down the hall. She holds onto me tightly as I struggle to get my footing right. I’m so drained I can barely function, a mixture of the panic attack flowing through my system and the medication taking hold.
“I got you, Mylee, you’re okay,” Neala coos.
I feel safe with her.
I wish this were Trax, though.
She leads me to my room, opening the door to escort me in, and I notice it’s almost opposite Trax’s room. An ache squeezes deep inside my stomach as I glance at his room, his door shut from when I left moments before.
How will he react when he hears about this? It will probably push him further away, that I can be sure of.
We walk into the beautiful room, and Neala edges me to the bed then sits me down. I’m so sleepy, my eyes feel like lead weights as I blink a few times trying to focus on something, anything, but all I can think of is sleep.
Neala grabs hold of my ballet flats, pulling them off, then slowly edges me to lie down on the bed. I follow her lead not really able to think for myself as she grabs the blanket, which was sitting at the end of the bed, and slides it up over me. My head molds to the fluffy pillow feeling like a cloud, but a nice cloud, not like the storm clouds which have been rolling through my head for the past few minutes.
I feel warm.
I feel safe.
It feels like home.
Neala sits on the side of the bed gently caressing my leg, so I close my eyes. “Go to sleep, Mylee. You’ll be much better when you wake. I’m glad you’re back. I’ve missed you…” her voice trails off. “We both have,” is the last thing I hear before blackness engulfs me, and I’m out like a light.
TRAX
Cooling off in my room isn’t helping, but knowing she’s out there in my clubhouse isn’t doing me any favors either. The fact that Mylee Bannerman is going to be in my clubhouse for shit only knows how long is doing my goddamned head in. This woman, this insatiably gorgeous woman, is going to be my undoing.
I just know it.
How the hell am I supposed to stay away from her when she’s forced in my face everywhere I turn? All I know is I need to be strong. I can’t let her back into my life because I want it. I need to let her know she can’t get away with hurting me, but more importantly, I can’t let her know I could be fucking bad for her. We are bad for each other, there’s no denying it.
Hearing some commotion outside my door, I wonder briefly what the hell is going on, but I choose to ignore it. The dueling voices are becoming louder, so intrigue gets the better of me. I walk to my door, pull it open, and notice Crest and Neala standing there trying to talk in hushed voices, but they’re in a heated debate, so their hushed voices sound more like shouting. They both turn to look at me. Crest glares while Neala winces with a single shake of her head like she’s warning me.
“You!” Crest grunts as he starts heading for me.
I take a step back as I wonder what the fuck’s going on. He and Neala both march inside my room as I slide out of the way. Neala quickly closes the door behind her as Crest storms up to me his finger in my face as I focus on it almost going cross-eyed.
“What did I do?” I ask.
Crest scoffs lowering his hand. “My little girl is zoned out in that room all because of you!”
My eyebrows pull together as I look to Neala who winces, chewing on her bottom lip. “What do you mean zoned out?”
“She had a motherfucking panic attack in front of your entire goddamn club. How the hell do you think that’s gonna make her feel? Her anxiety, her inner thoughts, they’re gonna go through the roof.” His intense stare softens as he continues, “She was doing so well, so fucking well.” Crest shakes his head. “Until she spoke to you. You. Fucking. Little. Prick! I should gut you right where you fucking stand,” he grunts rushing forward, his voice booming with intensity.
I simply bob my head in agreement which forces him to halt his aggressive stance toward me. His hands grip on my cut as he shakes me violently once, but I do nothing to fight back. I feel like fucking shit. I caused Mylee to suffer an episode. I never ever wanted that to happen. I thought she was doing better, but I’ve sent her backward. I am a fucking prick, but we all know that.
“Fight back, damn you. I can’t fucking hurt you if you don’t fight back,” he spits.
Shaking my head, I close my eyes. “I can’t. If Mylee’s got issues ‘cause of me, then I deserve everything you want to throw at me, Crest.”
He forcibly lets me go with a push. I fall back opening my eyes again as I flop onto the bed after a stumble.
Running my hands through my hair, I let out a loud exhale in defeat. “Is she… is she all right?” I ask.
“She is… she took her medication, and she’s sleeping it off. The panic attack wasn’t bad, Trax, but it was definitely enough for her mind to fog in and out,” Neala murmurs.
In frustration, I yank my fingers through my hair, you can practically taste the anxiety in the room—the foul tang filling the atmosphere with the dread of the unknown—the angst of anguish. The fact Mylee has slipped into an anxiety state because of me is so sickening, so powerfully agonizing to me, the thirst for blood is seeping into my pores. The need to spill God’s nectar onto the earth then watch it seep into the dust is creeping into my veins.
I’m a man doomed by demons, and my demons are right on my doorstep.
But right now I have awoken hers.
It’s a vicious cycle, the
devil has us in his trap.
But I need to focus—focus on Mylee, only on Mylee.
Not on the demon within me.
“Can I see her?” I ask.
The silence in the room makes me look up to see Crest assessing me. His eyebrows furrow. “You want to see her? I have no idea what the hell was said between the two of you, but it was enough to let her darkness in, and… you want to see her?” he scoffs.
“I know it looks bad, Crest, but I care about Mylee. More than you know. Fuck! I’ll put it all out there if you want… I fucking love her. I’ve loved her every moment of the past two years, I’ve never stopped. But shit can’t just go back to the way it was, Crest. She’s different. I’m a shell of the man I was. I told her I’m an asshole, and if she came at me and we tried to talk, she’d end up hating me.”
He exhales. “You told her you were an asshole?”
His lips begin to slightly turn upward—the fucker actually smiles. “Maybe I could be swayed around to liking you again, you fuckhead. You were always my favorite. Thing is, I need a club to look after Mylee, but after this shit, I’m not sure you can do that. Her being here is obviously going to be a problem if you two aren’t going to get the fuck along. She needs someone who knows how to handle her.” He shrugs. “That’s why I came to you, you dumbass.”
I stand up, stepping closer to him. “Crest, I got this. No one can look after Mylee like I can. I know her, I know her condition. I can read her. Don’t send her away. Let me do this. Even if she doesn’t want to stay, I’m still her best fit.”
He lets out a small huff. “Yeah, right. I can see how fucking well you read her, by the way she’s sleeping you off right now, you damn fuckwit.”
“Crest, I’ll be here, too. I’ll stay in the clubhouse and watch her. Be the supportive girlfriend she’ll need. Don’t worry, she’ll be fine. We’ll keep our eyes on her all the time. If at any time things get too out of hand, we’ll call you… immediately,” Neala intervenes.
I nod in agreement—my little sister can come in handy sometimes.
“My promise is my word, Crest. I will protect her and keep her safe from whatever danger is out there, and… from herself.”
He raises his brow. “And what about from you?”
My shoulders slump. “And from me? I won’t hurt her. She knows where we stand. I’ll be there as her friend, as her support. She can lean on me… always.”
“You can’t be someone’s friend if you’re in love with them, Trax.”
I grimace. “You can if it’s what’s best for them.”
He groans. “Fine! But I want progress reports daily.”
Smiling my lopsided smirk, I tilt my head. “Done! Can I go see her now?”
He narrows his eyes, gesturing for the door. “She’s across the damn hall.”
I glance at Neala. She opens the door walking with me then opens Mylee’s door. I instantly see her curled up on the bed under a blanket, looking… well, fuck knows.
My heart sinks.
Neala sighs rubbing my back. “She’ll be fine. You need to reinforce the fact that the club doesn’t think any less of her. I know that’s what she’ll believe. They all saw it,” she tells me.
I grimace as I rub my temples feeling a headache coming on. “Fuck! Okay. Thanks, little sis. Thank you for being there for her.”
Her lips turn small and thin in a tight line like she’s as wary about this situation as I am. Taking a breath, I walk inside then she closes the door behind me leaving me alone in Mylee’s room. Mylee’s soft breathing filters through the air, the sound is comforting to me. I move over to the bed, slowly sitting down on the edge. My hand immediately moving to her leg to hold her as I glance down to see her sleeping heavily. The drugs in her system have taken hold. I know she’ll sleep for a good few hours. Once she’s had a panic attack, she usually has to sleep to recover from it. The only difference now is she has medication to help even her out, which is good.
Last time she was here, she didn’t have medication, so this part is all new to me, but as long as she knows what to do, we should all be good. I’ll have Crest do a run-down with me, just to make sure. If Mylee’s mind starts to go haywire, I don’t want her telling me the wrong shit.
As I sit here running through a million scenarios in my mind, I can’t stop watching her face. It’s so calm as she rests. No pain. No anguish. She just looks peaceful. I love that look on her. She’s beautiful. I could watch her like this all day.
Dinner time has come around, and I will need to spend some time with the club tonight after the events of today. It’s been a fucking crazy day that’s for sure, and with the Yakuza falling, then Mylee showing up, I have to admit I need to take a moment to just breathe.
Looking over her, I move my hand from her leg to the side of her face. Her cheek is almost a little hot to the touch. I wonder briefly if she’s running a temperature, but I figure her body has been through something traumatic, so I move the blanket down slightly releasing her arms. It’s summer after all, so it’s warmer inside. As I smooth some hair behind her ear, I caress her cheek tenderly. Touching her sends a shudder through my very soul. My arm sprinkles in goosebumps as they tingle all the way down to my cock. Each one prickling harder than the next. She has such power over me. I damn well hate it just as much as I love it.
I’ve missed her so fucking much. It’s killed me to be away from her these past two years. I never thought I’d see her again, but now she’s here, seeing her like this again, brings everything back with an almighty thump. No one here knew of her condition. No one knew she had mental health problems. No one but Neala, Surge and me. I think Mom suspected, but I never actually told her. Neala saw me with her one day when I was attempting to help her come out of a bad panic attack situation. She helped me bring Mylee around from the brink. I think that’s why Neala wasn’t fazed today. She’d seen this before.
Surge knows because he’s the Club’s wise one. So when times were rough, I went to him looking for guidance, seeking solace and support. He told me to ask the club for their assistance. But Mylee didn’t want the club to think any less of her for her issues. At the time, we didn’t know what was wrong with her. I knew something wasn’t right. I knew it was some kind of disorder, but I didn’t care. I was going to be there with her through all of it, no matter what.
When Crest confirmed what I’d suspected—that bipolar disorder ran in her family, her mother had it, then took her own life in one of her depressive episodes, and that Mylee was the one who had found her—shit got real, super quick. I forced Mylee to have the testing done. She didn’t want to, but I told her I would stand by her no matter what the outcome. But at the time, I could feel she was already pulling away.
When the official diagnosis came through, that’s when she ended us. She took all her stuff from the clubhouse and left without an actual goodbye. Just a note telling me not to go after her. I did, of course, but Crest was there to stop me. Not only him, but the entire Notorious Knights MC, and unless I wanted to start a war with our brother club, I needed to step back, let Mylee get a handle on things. I needed to let her father take over. And he did.
I tried once more, two months later. She was in a mental health hospital, and I went to see her without anyone knowing—not her, Crest, or my club. No one knew, but when I got there, the receptionist at the desk told me that my name specifically was blacklisted from seeing Mylee.
I kicked up a shit, demanded to know by who, then when they said it was by Mylee herself, it killed a piece of me. So I turned to walk away, then I saw her, down the hall, laughing with a redheaded male.
Anger surged through me. How could she be straining to hold it together, but laughing so freely like that. I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t comprehend. So, I left and decided that if she ever wanted to be with me again, she would find her way to me. But the problem was, Mylee never came back. I thought she would. I thought once she realized how good I was for her, she’d cave and come back.
/> But she never fucking did.
Until today.
Taking a deep breath, my fingers trickle along her silky skin. Her breath catching as I run my thumb along her lips that I want more than anything to kiss right now. She looks calm. It’s impressive after her brain being in overdrive that it has the power to shut down and rest like this. This is what she needs. I’m fucked off that I caused this reaction. I never thought about what was happening and how it might affect her. I detest this whole fucking idea that I have the power to hurt her, to bring her to her knees.
Not able to restrain myself any longer, I lean down and plant my lips to her forehead. Her soft skin feels like fucking heaven against my lips. I kiss her gently, so I don’t wake her. She lets out a small whimper like she’s delighted by my touch. I slowly pull back looking down, still caressing her cheek, while letting out a long breath.
“I love you, Mylee,” I murmur even though she can’t hear me.
Standing up, I regrettably let her go turning to walk toward the door. When I get there, I spin around taking one more look. She appears calm, so I leave.
The weight of today feels heavy as I close my eyes. I’m not sure what my next damn move should be. Everything in me wants to go back in with Mylee, curl up behind her while she sleeps, but I can’t. Rage still burns inside me so furiously hot I’m not sure I’ll be able to contain it much longer. Everything about this situation is fucked up!
Walking out into the clubroom, the music filters through the air, the party atmosphere’s in full swing. I might not feel like partying, but the rest of my brothers do. We had a win today. A big fucking win. We need to celebrate. So as I look around, I can see the party’s definitely underway big time.
The smell of pizza filters through the air as I turn to see the Andrettis. I raise my brow wondering how the hell it has come to this. Never thought I’d see the day when the Andrettis would be here, in our clubhouse, bringing us their pizza, and we’d be serving them our beer.
I slide into a chair at the wooden table next to Torque. He looks up at me as he chews on a slice of cheese pizza, the cheese running down his forearm. Foxy’s next to him with Scratch and Neala. Sensei and Sass are noticeably missing. I’m sure she’s resting after the day they’ve had.