Scooter

by Marie James

  I watched the life fade from several women’s eyes. I watched them refuse to eat, which only led to the others fighting over their rejections in an effort to survive. It didn’t take long for them to slip away.

  That’ll be my plan this go around.

  But instead of rough hands, a comforting embrace engulfs my body, and instead of a whiskey and cigarette smoke stench, a familiar body wash engulfs my nose, and even with as much bravado as I left the clubhouse with, I burrow myself deeper against his chest.

  Leaving was stupid, and even though I don’t want to need him with the manic desperation that takes over every cell of my being, it doesn’t stop it from happening.

  “Sweet Mia,” he coos as he carries me up the embankment toward the waiting SUV. “I’ve got you. We’ll get you warm in no time.”

  “We’ve got her,” another man says as Ryan settles in the back seat with me still against his chest.

  “Get her home,” an unfamiliar voice says through the Bluetooth in the vehicle. “I’ve already contacted Samson. Dr. Davison is on her way to assess her.”

  The ride back to the clubhouse is a short one, too short considering how far I thought I made it away from there. I don’t bother to lift my head as Ryan carries me inside. I can sense a swarm of people watching me, but silence fills the air around us as he makes his way to his room.

  All too soon, he releases me, and I stand with my head hung in shame as he pulls the down comforter off his bed and wraps the thing around me until I’m cocooned in his scent and warmth. The blanket helps, but it feels like it will take days for my body to once again return to normal temperatures.

  My teeth are still making noise as they smack against each other, and my hands tremble to the point that it’s nearly impossible to keep my grip on the cover surrounding me. Ryan holds me to his chest, and it sinks in that I’m not going to be hurt. He’s here to protect me. He’s real, not some apparition disguising a malevolent person wanting to hurt me.

  “You had me worried,” he whispers against the top of my head.

  I shake in his arms, first from the cold but then with the way his body tenses.

  I blink up at him when he takes a step back and clasps me at my shoulders so he can frown down at me.

  “What were you thinking? You could’ve fucking died out there. Leaving here was a stupid fucking cho—”

  He clamps his mouth shut, the muscles in his jaw tensing over and over as he stares down at me.

  He’s angry, and before I can think, I lift up on my toes and press my lips to his.

  Chapter 9

  Scooter

  Cold lips press to mine, and even though it’s something I haven’t let myself want, I realize immediately that it’s something I’ve needed from her for weeks. Something that tells me she’s been feeling exactly the same way about me that I have about her.

  It still doesn’t stop the gasp of surprise from escaping or the low moan when she presses her tongue to mine. My eyes widen in shock, but it’s the sight of her eyes clenched tight as if she’s in pain and the fresh tears streaming down her cheeks that make me take another step back.

  My lips tingle with the loss, and my eyebrows slam together in confusion with her reaction. She kissed me. She reached up on her toes and angled her mouth to press against mine, not the other way around. So why does she look like I just forced myself on her?

  “Mia?” I shake my head, trying to get a grip on the situation and also to wipe the need to kiss her again from my brain.

  Her lips are still blue from being out in the cold for God knows how long, and they tremble uncontrollably. When we first came in here, she was shaking because of the cold, but now after she kissed me, I can see the fear in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her because it’s the only thing I can think of right now. My mind is so clouded that just being around her makes everything so muddled.

  I can’t think straight when she’s around. My body is in a constant state of worry, need, and concern. It’s all too much for me to be able to work through in front of her. I’m terrified of coming on too strong or not strong enough. I’m always worried I’ll say the wrong thing or react to her the wrong way. It’s why I’ve been telling her fluffy stories about my past, skipping over all the bad shit I’ve seen and done since becoming an adult. My one-sided conversations are nothing more than an attempt to calm her and ease her worries.

  But then she goes and presses her perfect mouth to mine, and I’m struck stupid, like an idiot teenager finally getting to kiss the girl at prom.

  “I shouldn’t have done that,” I whisper, hoping it will calm her.

  But all it does is make her cry harder, the tears now rushing out of her red-rimmed eyes like I’ve given her horrible news.

  When her shoulders slump and she stares at me with an expectation I can’t decipher, I know I have to get away from her. I can’t help her when my own mind and body are warring with each other. I can’t comfort her when deep down, I need comfort myself.

  “I—” Her face contorts with more pain than I’ve ever seen on her face before. Even in the hospital that first day when she woke up terrified and afraid of everyone but me, I didn’t see this level of agony in her dark eyes. “I can’t be here right now.”

  I turn and leave the room, grateful that her sobs are silent because the sound of her pain would only draw me in closer to her.

  “How is she?” Max asks as I step into the hallway and close my bedroom door with more restraint than I feel.

  “She’s cold, but she’ll be fine.”

  “I want to see her.” The man has had those five words on repeat since we got back from Miami, but tonight they agitate me more than they ever have before.

  I don’t need him going into that room and seeing her like she is right now. I don’t need him concocting scenarios of how I may have hurt his sister, although his creative appraisal of the situation may give me some insight into what the hell is going on.

  “She’s going to get into a warm bath,” I lie. “She wants some time alone.”

  He sighs, head rolling forward on his shoulders much the same way Mia’s did just moments ago. “I should’ve been here. Why did she leave? What happened to force her out into the freezing cold?”

  His barrage of questions is the very same ones I’ve been asking myself. Was it because of me, or is that my ego talking? Her demeanor was a little off this afternoon, which is saying a lot for a girl who has refused to leave my room for the last week, but I don’t think I said or did anything to upset her.

  She was scared after the guys were arguing over pool, but I figured she’d be okay once she was in a safe place.

  I made a lot of assumptions, and that’s the last time I’ll make those mistakes again.

  “I don’t know why she left, but she’s safe now,” I grumble as Tug and Jasmine walk into the hallway.

  “There you are,” Tug says as he places himself right in front of Max.

  Jasmine reaches for him too, and like they’re all an extension of each other, Max wraps his arms around both of them, and they do the same with him. It’s the most sensual huddle I’ve ever seen, and I use the reprieve to make my escape.

  Worried, questioning eyes look up at me when I walk out into the living room, but the man I need to talk to isn’t in the room. Rocker and Jinx eye me expectantly, and normally I’d go to them for advice, but this goes deeper than any half-hearted conversation about women. Neither of these guys has ever been in a serious relationship, as far as I know, so they don’t have the foundation I require. Not that Mia and I are in any form of a relationship, but I need to figure out a way to reach that woman without scaring her to death or making things worse for her.

  Unless he’s home, Kincaid would be in the conference room. I turn back around and push open the heavy wooden door without knocking, finding Kincaid inside. I only consider Shadow, Snatch, Itchy, and Dominic as bonuses as I close myself inside with them.

  “How is she?” Kincai
d asks. “Did she bother to give an explanation?”

  “She’s warming up,” I tell him as I fall into a chair on the side of the table. It’s not the one I normally sit in, but walking to the other side would take more energy than I have to give right now. “She hasn’t said anything.”

  “Have you asked her if she wants to stay here?” Shadow asks from behind the screen of his computer.

  “She wanted to be here.”

  “Right,” Dominic says as he takes the chair across from me. “When she was in the hospital, she wanted to be here. That may have changed. The woman didn’t walk out into sub-freezing temps because she loves the clubhouse. Did something happen today? Something that would’ve made her want to leave?”

  These are all the same questions Max had, and I still don’t have answers.

  “She came out of the room for breakfast and hung out a little in the living room. She was upset when a couple of the guys started playfully arguing over pool,” I explain. “When we left the living room, she went into the room she was offered when she first arrived. I didn’t see her again until I pulled her out of the trees twenty minutes ago. No one said anything to her other than including her in conversations as best they could earlier. They didn’t ask her questions or pry.”

  I shake my head, confusion only growing as I explain the day.

  “And you were with her every single second?”

  “Yes,” I answer, but then shake my head. “I stepped away to take a phone call for a minute, but I was right outside of the kitchen, and she was the only one in there. She wasn’t approached by anyone.”

  “Who called you?” Shadow asks.

  I recoil, indignant and hating that my bosses are asking such personal questions, but then realization washes over me.

  “Kirsty,” I mutter.

  “The girl you’ve been seeing?” Snatch clarifies.

  “I wouldn’t call it seeing. We aren’t dating or anything, just having a little fun when time permits.”

  I feel like scum, and I’m questioning everything I’ve ever done in my past that may look bad in Mia’s eyes.

  “Think Mia may have overheard part of that conversation?” Kincaid asks.

  “Possibly.” I press my face into my hands. “Probably. The woman has excellent hearing.”

  “That explains it,” Shadow adds.

  “Jealousy?” I mutter. “Highly unlikely. She doesn’t have shit to be jealous of.”

  “Because Kirsty doesn’t mean anything to you or because Mia doesn’t?”

  I glare at Kincaid, uncaring if he’s my boss at this moment or not.

  “I’d lay down my life to protect Mia. She isn’t just some girl to me.”

  “Does she know that?” Itchy asks, finally joining the conversation.

  “She kissed me,” I blurt.

  “Before or after she heard the phone call from Kirsty?” Dominic crosses his arms over his chest, and I can’t tell which way he wants my answer to go.

  “After,” I admit. “Like just moments ago. But when I looked at her while her lips were pressed to mine, she had her eyes squeezed shut, and tears were spilling from her eyes.”

  “What were you doing?” Shadow asks, the topic of conversation interesting enough to finally make him pull his eyes from his computer screen.

  “At first, I kissed her back, but I put an end to it when I saw how upset it was making her. I know I shouldn’t have—”

  Kincaid holds his hand up to silence me. “He means what were you doing right before she kissed you.”

  “Nothing,” I answer, but I let the memory play through my head. “No, I was angry. I wasn’t yelling, but I know she knew I was pissed that she put herself in danger.”

  “And that explains the kiss,” Dominic says, leaning back in his chair.

  I stare at him, more confused than ever. “That explains it? Could you please explain it to me because, apparently, I’m too ignorant to read between the lines?”

  “We’ve been doing this for a long time,” Kincaid begins. “We’ve seen the gamut of reactions of how women behave after being abducted. We’ve had suicides by women who just couldn’t handle what happened. Hell, we had two girls go back to their captives within days of being rescued. One girl we rescued a few years ago is now living with one of the most sadistic MCs in Massachusetts.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Which MC?”

  “The Ravens Ruin out of Sutton. Several women have gone on to join convents. My point is that we’ve seen a lot, but one of the most common things for one of these women to do is to protect herself. She kissed you when you were angry because she either found out that worked while she was abducted, or she saw it work for others. She was trying to calm you down. She’s trying to appease her master,” Kincaid finishes.

  “That’s fucked up,” I mutter. “I’d never hurt her, and I’m not her fucking master. Owning a woman isn’t something that turns me on.”

  “We know that. You know that, but she’s still living in a different reality,” Snatch says, giving me a sad smile. “I imagine it started with the phone call and then seeing the guys argue made things worse. She either didn’t feel safe here any longer, or she’s got it in her head that she’s interrupting your life.”

  “I don’t think she feels unsafe,” Dominic interjects. “I was in the SUV with him when we found her. She didn’t hesitate to cling to him when he picked her up.”

  “Then she’s feeling like a burden, and she felt like leaving was the best for everyone involved, excluding herself,” Shadow says. “And the kiss was her way to keep you from being mad or hating her or some other fear she’s concocted in her head.”

  “And what do I do now?” I feel helpless, just like I do every time she cries in the shower, and her nudity prevents me from going to her. It kills me when I can’t comfort her and make things better.

  “Talk to her,” Itchy says.

  “I talk to her all the time. That woman has heard more stories about my life than I’ve ever told a soul.”

  “She knows your fears? How you feel about this entire situation? How you feel about her?”

  I lower my head, unable to look Kincaid in the eyes. He already knows the answers to that. I haven’t been forthcoming with her. I haven’t delved deep and gotten emotional. All of that was shit I didn’t think she’d care about. I don’t want to tell her that even though she’s been terrified to leave my room that the last week or so has been the most relaxed I’ve felt in years. I don’t want to force my own emotions and feelings on to her in fear that she won’t feel the same or worse, that she’ll act in the way she thinks I want her to rather than being her own person.

  “You need to be real with her, Scooter.” Dom’s the master of sage advice.

  “And as far as owning a woman not being your thing,” Kincaid begins, “there’s a difference in forcing someone to pretend to care for you. I own Emmalyn. Dom owns Makayla. Shadow owns Misty. Snatch and Itchy own each other. But our possession was earned through love and dedication, moral support and care. We own them, and they own us back, and that proprietorship is what every single person walking this earth should work toward.”

  Well, when you put it that way…

  “After you have a real talk with her, I think she would benefit from an appointment with Dr. Alverez. Griffin saw her for a while before he moved to Rhode Island. She’s excellent in dealing with PTSD.”

  I nod at Shadow in agreement, but I know getting her to leave the property will be a challenge, especially after her failed attempt tonight.

  Chapter 10

  Mia

  As if I’m still standing outside in the frigid air, I can’t seem to get warm. Ryan walking away left me colder than the wind did when it pushed right against my skin as if I weren’t wearing clothes at all.

  I wanted a hot bath but couldn’t convince myself I’d be okay without Ryan standing near the door or in the other room. That would leave only two doors between the outside world and me, so I changed clothes
and climbed into his bed. Sinking into the middle of the mattress, wrapped in the sheets and blanket, surrounded by a half dozen pillows, still didn’t bring enough warmth to keep my teeth from chattering.

  He isn’t gone long, maybe an hour at most, but when he returns, my cheeks heat in the darkness. I fully expected him to be out all night, meeting up with Kirsty or sleeping in the other room since he hated my kiss so much.

  Tears sting my eyes as he walks through the room and into the bathroom. After a couple of minutes, he returns wearing sleep pants and a t-shirt, and as much as I want to look away, to pretend to be asleep, I can’t seem to pull my eyes from him as he stands beside the bed, debating on whether or not he should join me.

  Giving in, he huffs a sigh and climbs in on his side. I can tell he’s doing his best not to touch me, but with his size and the fact that I’m lying in the center of the mattress, it’s impossible.

  The second his back hits the bottom sheet, I scoot closer, laying my hand on his stomach and my head on his chest.

  A silent sob escapes my lips when he wraps his arm around my back and pulls me closer as if nothing horrible happened earlier. If I close my eyes and let my mind drift, I can imagine that he actually wants me here. I can picture him smiling at me when I wake up in his arms, rather than him being filled with the annoyance he’s been so masterful at hiding.

  His t-shirt is cool against my skin, but it’s still warmer than I feel in my bones, so I get as close to him as I can manage.

  “I’m sorry I kissed you.” I swallow when my voice comes out husky and filled with emotion. “It’s not fair to your girlfriend.”

  “I don’t have a girlfriend, Sweet Mia.”

  “Are you engaged?” The words slip out of my mouth before I can stop them.

  It’s not a far-fetched conclusion. Technically, I guess I’m engaged too.

  He laughs, low and gravelly, the action making my head shake on top of his chest. “Not engaged either.”

  “I heard your conversation earlier,” I confess. “There’s someone.”

  “What was going on between Kirsty and me wasn’t serious.”