So damned broken.
Easing flat onto the mattress beside her, he reached out a hand and cupped her face, heat from her cheek warming his palm. He gave himself permission to trace along her cheekbone with the tip of his thumb once, then a second time, wanting to wake her as gently as possible. As she had since he helped rescue her, if near him when she woke, she seemed to instinctively know he was there. Even before her eyes opened, her hands had lifted to grip his wrist in her tiny fingers, not able to encircle the diameter of his arm, but holding on tightly nonetheless. Her eyes popped open and she stared at him, the corners crinkling in a ghost of a smile. No anxiety marred her features in these moments, just a profound affection. She would be fearless for at least a few seconds, secure in her gut-deep knowledge he would keep her safe, always. His presence seemed to give her that much peace, at least.
It didn’t last long. The familiar look of fear came on her swiftly, terror pooling tears in the corners of her eyes, a single droplet tracing across the bridge of her nose. Her mouth flattened, lips forming a hard line as she tried to control her emotions.
“Shhhh,” he crooned, pushing up to shove one hand under his head, propping himself on an elbow. “I’m here, Kelsey.”
“I—” Her breath hitched and broke, faltering in and out of her chest in a way that sounded painful. “I-I-I had a—” Her stuttering got the best of her and the words stopped, her mouth closing as her features twisted in frustration.
“Dream, darlin’. I know. It’s okay.” He stared, mesmerized as her lashes lifted and he looked into her bottomless blue eyes. “I’m here.” I’m always gonna be here, baby.
“It-it scares me.” She pushed the words out, and he thought he knew what she meant, opening his mouth to reassure her. Then she pulled the rug out from under whatever he’d been about to say, and he couldn’t for the life of him remember a word of what his brain had prepared. “H-how I feel around you. H-how sa-safe I feel.” She stammered more when she was stressed, a clear barometer of her emotions. Her struggling so much with her words right now told him this conversation mattered. He settled into a slow rhythm of stroking across the apple of her cheek, giving her the steady dependability of his touch to ground her. “I-I wake up, and I’m sa-safe. I-I know you’d walk through walls to get to m-me.” Her voice softened, slipped to a whisper so quiet he had to strain to hear her. “I don’t dream about him or them. Not anymore.” Him meant Baxter, and them had to be his henchmen. Her abusers.
Kelsey paused so long, Gypsy thought she was done talking, but he was stymied by what she’d said. I don’t understand. If she wasn’t dreaming about the bastard who tortured her, then what scared her? He prompted, “What do you dream of, darlin’?” Fingers to her jaw, he trailed a soft touch across her cheek with his thumb and felt his lips curl into a smile when she nuzzled into his hand, like a kitten seeking comfort. “What gives you nightmares, if it’s not those bastards?”
“I-I…” She trailed off into silence, then took a breath, seeming to fortify herself with the air filling her lungs. “I dream you leave.”
“That’s not happening.” His forceful answer was immediate, even as bright pain shattered him, slicing through his chest. He knew why she didn’t believe him yet, because everything in her life had been turned on its head over the past year.
If only her beauty hadn’t gotten her caught up in Baxter’s schemes. She’d spent months in captivity, serving the sadistic whims of a man who had so little in common with humankind it would have been unbelievable. Week after week of living moment to moment, cast into an overwhelming darkness of the soul, Kelsey had survived in spite of pain delivered daily by a brutal bastard. Gypsy knew while they’d made her go days or weeks without food or physical comfort, she’d also been naked and afraid. Of course, she wouldn’t believe her luck had turned. Not yet.
I’ll get her to the place where she believes, he vowed again, probably the thousandth time so far. “I’m here, darlin’. There ain’t no expire date on me bein’ here. I know I told you that I was here as long as you needed me.” Maybe the idea was one of the things keeping the splinter of doubt alive in her head, her thinking those words were him giving himself an out. Maybe fear of him leaving was keeping her from getting better and moving past everything. As long as she needed him, he’d be there. Was she making it so she’d always need him? I ain’t giving up on you, Kels. Time to make his intentions clear. Or clearer. He could leverage her fears and build a rock-steady house for her emotions no amount of huffing and puffing would blow down. “But that’s a patent lie. I’m going to make it so you always need me. Always want me around. That way there’s no reason for you to turn me away down the road. I’m here. Plain and simple, honey, I’m here, which is where I want to be. Beside you, every step of the way.”
He turned to his back, looped an arm around her shoulders by shoving it underneath her neck, and pulled her close. As she always did, she came to him without argument, her body pliant. But, unlike the previous times where it had been a passive acceptance of him positioning her, this was different. One hand lifted and hesitated before it settled palm-down in the center of his chest, covering his heart. Her other arm stretched between them, working down along his side, and her fingers wrapped around his belt, holding tight. Then her head hit his chest, cheek to the hollow by his shoulder. This was Kelsey taking ownership of her place at his side. Fuck, yeah. She’s mine, he thought, tucking his chin to place a soft kiss on the top of her head.
Over the next few days, there had been moments where he could see Kelsey had retreated back into herself, away from the world and him, but those came less and less. Gypsy pulled in a relieved breath when he realized Kelsey was folding herself into his life. Even though it came with an effort, it felt much more precious when he could see what it cost her to make it happen.
And at the end of each day, when he lay next to her and pulled her to his side, she owned her place a little more. So sweet and charming, innocently sensual in every movement, having her heat and form tucked in beside him was a form of sweet torture. He’d gone to sleep more than once with his cock straining at the zipper of his jeans, weeping precome until in the morning his again-hard dick would be stuck to the skin of his hip, glued there by a denied passion for her.
Gypsy found his waking thoughts were constantly on her, focused on keeping her safe and sane, and finding ways to give her the security she so desperately needed to heal. He decided his case of blue balls could be solved with a quick tug in the morning shower, but Kelsey’s confidence needed more careful handling.
***
Gypsy glanced at the screen and answered the phone quickly, hoping the ringing of his cell hadn’t woken Kelsey. She’d had a restless night, and he wanted her to sleep in as long as she could. “Boss. ’Sup, man?”
Jase Spencer laughed in his ear. The business manager of the Fort Wayne businesses for the Rebels, he was technically Gypsy’s boss, given his position as manager of the bar, Marie’s, but it wasn’t a title he sought out. “Damn, Gypsy. I called wondering if you got a minute for me. But right now, I think I like the sound of boss. Say it again. Boss. Put some groove on it. Boooossss.”
“Fuck you.” Now Gypsy was the one laughing. “Whatcha need, Captain?”
“I need the inventory counts from last night. I want to coordinate orders for the bar and the club. I’ve got DeeDee’s reports, but didn’t see the ones from Marie’s in my inbox. Do you know if Tequila had anything for me?” The club was a reference to the strip club the bikers owned up on the north side of town. DeeDee, now Jase’s old lady, was still manager of that property. While Marie’s was technically still Gypsy’s responsibility, Tequila had continued to manage the day-to-day processes while Gypsy was getting Kelsey settled.
Gypsy groaned. “Shit. I bet he totally forgot to run an inventory sheet.” The register did most of the work, but running an inventory still meant heading to the back to do a quick count of the stock, just to verify everything was correct. “He
’s probably still sleeping, but I could head in and do a quick…fuck. I don’t have anyone to stay with Kelsey.”
“I-I could go with you.” Gypsy turned and found Kelsey sitting on the edge of the bed, feet dangling over the side. He watched as her feet flexed, toes curling underneath nervously. Thighs pressed together and elbows tucked tight to her sides, her posture was stiff and rigid, eyes angled off to the side so she didn’t have to look at his face. “I could, Gypsy.” Just those few words spoken in her lilting accent made his belly get warm.
He took a moment to remember how she’d reacted to the crowds in the Melbourne airport. Shaking and mute, she’d hidden her face against his side, shutting out the world. It took a fucking lifetime, but finally, they’d been on the plane, and he’d been damned thankful for the meds the Hawks medic had provided. Gypsy had zero qualms about doping her up the whole flight, because her having a freak-out at forty-thousand feet was a whole lot less than desirable. She’d been terrified but still groggy when they got to Chicago, which helped get them through customs and onto the next leg of their flight, joking with a silent Kelsey about already being jetlagged. Finally in Fort Wayne, he’d hustled her out of the airport and into the rented van the boys had left for him in parking. One of the RWMC prospects had collected their baggage, dropping it at the apartment.
They’d been home for nearly two weeks, and up to this point, she’d only been as far as the apartment building’s lobby. Is she ready for even the limited crowds on the streets of the Fort?
Gypsy knew her absolute worst fear was he would leave and not come back. She had confessed as much in their limping conversations, but from within her dreams, the words were shouted, pulling him from a sound sleep to hear her calling his name, voice broken as she’d beg, “Gypsy, please don’t leave me.” She also feared to be a burden. Had feared that all the way back in Australia, because she knew as well as he did that Nary, sweet, damaged Nary, wouldn’t move on unless Kelsey did, too. Somehow, she found the strength to come here and start the process, he reminded himself. She’s stronger than she knows.
The need to help her be whole again consumed him. So in this moment, without asking her if she were certain, without undermining her confidence, without giving her any indication he’d wrestled with the idea for a second, and without doing anything other than giving her a nod and a smile, he spoke to Jase. “I’ll get the inventory done in an hour, send it to you. Want anything else while I’m out, boss? A latte, maybe? Want me to bring you a salad?” He put on a fake Aussie accent. “Need some cream for your tea?” Kelsey tipped her head to stare at the floor and damned if her mouth didn’t curve into a tiny grin. Fuck yeah.
“Screw you and that rabbit food, Gypsy. Me he-man. Bring me a steak. Big fucking steak.” Jase was laughing again. “Talk soon.” The call disconnected.
Gypsy tucked the phone into his pocket, gaze still on Kelsey. “Want me to stay in here while you get ready?” She was relearning shyness when it came to nudity, and while he loved every chance to feast his eyes on her form, he would give her whatever space she needed. When her head moved back and forth without looking up, he responded quickly, giving her a concrete frame to hold him in her head until she finished in here. “I’ll be in the kitchen.” Grabbing a shirt off the dresser, he walked out and pulled the door shut behind him.
***
Kelsey
I bloody hate this. This fragility that’s like a freaking disease in my head. The part of me that wants nothing more than to go to sleep and never wake up. I want to be strong, like Nary. Like Gypsy.
Kelsey slid off the edge of the mattress, standing on her bare feet, crinkling her toes down into the plush carpet in Gypsy’s bedroom. She glanced at the clock near the bed and marked the time, giving herself three minutes to get ready. She’d make herself wait the full three minutes before bursting through the door to plaster herself against Gypsy’s side.
The only time she felt safe was with him. The touch of his skin helped slow her racing heart, and just hearing his growly voice gave her room to breathe. Even surrounded by all his things, as she was right now, still left her off-balance. Scared to be without him, and terrified as to what that fear said about her.
I might never be the same.
She remembered the Kelsey she’d been before. The carefree woman who thought like a child, never seeing the badness in anyone. The girl who’d adored her older brother. The teen learning that family wasn’t to be trusted, and neither were the fosters paid to care for you. The young woman who thought having tea with friends was the ultimate in happiness, who believed going to the cinema to see a movie the most fun in the world. The foolish woman who believed the lies spun by a brilliant man, that lure enough to get her into an alleyway. The woman she’d been was killed in her first week of captivity. Hope died fast when enough bad happened, covered and drowned in the dark waters of rape and cruelty.
Then had come Nary. Even when things were darkest, young Nary was a bright light. Kelsey had feared for her, because the light inside her had shone so brightly. Baxter had tried to crush her. He had plotted and schemed to do the things his clients would allow. Kelsey tried to warn her, tried to tell her. Remembered looking over her shoulder into the room as the men took her away, seeing Nary left behind and sitting on the filthy mattress, tears streaming down her face. Tears not for herself, but for Kelsey.
Shaking herself out of the doldrums of her mind, Kelsey looked at the clock again and then scrambled for clothing. She’d been lost inside her head for too long, and her self-imposed limit of three minutes had already slipped past. Jeans and a singlet, then a jumper on over the top of that. Kelsey realized she didn’t even know what the weather was today. Indiana was a long way from Australia, and the seasons were all topsy-turvy from home. With a single glance at the clock, she decided it didn’t matter, because she couldn’t make Gypsy wait. What if he left? What if he’s already tired of waiting and he’s gone?
Runners in hand, she flung the door open and then stopped in her tracks. One hip propped against the countertop, Gypsy stood with a mug lifted to his lips. He didn’t even have his boots on yet. I’m not late.
“Want some coffee or tea?” He tilted the mug, sipping his drink. “Want me to make you a sandwich?”
Swallowing hard, Kelsey shook her head. I want to be beside you. Clamping her lips tight against the words, she took a tentative step in his direction, pulling in a deep breath when he lifted one arm in clear invitation. In a heartbeat, she was tucked against his side, held tight there by the curve of his arm around her shoulders. She sighed, and he squeezed her tighter. “I-I—” Closing her mouth, she swallowed, then tried again. “I tho-thought I was late.”
“I’m here, darlin’.” He didn’t remind her he’d already promised he would be. Just reaffirmed what she knew. He was here and wanted her with him. She felt herself believe a tiny bit more.
Questions
Gypsy, Four months later
The vibration of the phone on the workbench made Gypsy look up, squinting into the overhead lights illuminating the six mechanic bays in the shop. He dipped the parts in his hand back into the tub of degreaser and sloshed them around before dropping them to the bottom. Once on his feet, he edged the upturned bucket he’d been seated on out of the way with the edge of one boot and reached for a rag already streaked with grease and grime. Leaning close, he just missed seeing the ID on the screen before the call went to voice mail, but before he’d finished cleaning the oily sludge from his hands, it lit up again, Mason’s information showing.
He’d been working in the shop on his two weekdays off from the bar, getting his bike tuned up and set for riding season. While he hadn’t swung back into full-time plus some, as he’d been working before he went to Australia, he still needed to spend at least part of most days at the bar. Scheduling help, placing orders, monitoring shift changes, and doing the payroll and other office work ate up hours out of each day.
Getting the bike prepared and ready to go
was a promise to himself that things would even out, and life would find a new normal.
Not that life with Kelsey was a hardship. No, quite the opposite. She was so amenable it would have been hard to have any problems with her. And that was part of the challenge. She’d become quick to agree with him on anything, and he was afraid that meant she was turning back in on herself. After that first off-hours visit, he’d found bringing her to the bar was easy, because she mostly stayed in the office with him. Curled into the couch or chair with the tablet he’d bought her, Kelsey would balance it on her folded legs, reading or watching videos. If their schedules lined up, she’d Skype with Nary, their laughter making him smile even as he kept his head bent over the paperwork to give them the semblance of privacy.
Gypsy and Kelsey hadn’t been home long before Slate’s woman, Ruby, came to the bar with the express desire to meet Kelsey. Ruby was so easygoing and sweet, she’d charmed Kelsey easily, drawing her away from Gypsy by fits and starts, aiming towards the bar so they could sit at a table and talk. Kelsey had stopped in the doorway and looked at him over her shoulder, her and Ruby’s clasped hands stretched between the women.
“Is-is it okay, Gypsy?” The tiny smile on her face trembled, and he knew it was taking all her courage to trust Ruby, even with his assurances about her safety.
“Yeah, darlin’. You and Ruby are gonna be good friends. I can already see it. Remember Nary’s posse? I predict you’ll gather your girls starting with this one, because she’s kinda a keeper.” Something he hadn’t shared with Kelsey was Ruby’s background, how she’d been kidnapped and held a prisoner in an act of revenge against the club. He hadn’t talked about how broken she’d been. “I’ve had my fill of girly talk in here for now. Just don’t get Ruby drunk, or I won’t hear the end of it from Slate.”
Kelsey’s eyes widened in shock and she shook her head, hair flying all around her shoulders. “I would never.” No stutter there, and that made him smile. “Gypsy, I promise.”
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