by A J Love
I laugh. “Good. I have enough of that with my Ma.”
“Don’t we all.”
“All right, man. Let’s talk money.”
On my way back to the shop, I stop in town to drop an ad for a mechanic in the window of the community center. On my way out, I see the asshole from the club Layton used to work at. What was his name? He’s arguing with another guy in the car lot of the store, pointing at the doors. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but as they’re stood close to my truck, I’ll find out soon enough.
He notices me as I approach though and falls silent. I offer him a nod and pull out my keys. I hear him beside me as I pull open the door. Vinny. That’s his name.
“Kane Thatcher, isn’t it?” He says.
I turn, “Yeah.”
He smiles. “Layton’s new boss. How she doing?”
His eyes don’t quite look at me; instead they’re darting about the place. “All good, yeah.”
“Good. That’s good.” He's acting nervous, and it's setting off alarm bells. “So, I’ll see you around. Layton is definitely doing okay?”
I narrow my eyes. “She’s fine.”
“Good. I’m glad. She deserves a good life that one.”
He doesn’t hang around any longer. Instead he climbs into his car and drives off. I watch him until he disappears in the distance, then climb into my own vehicle and head back to the shop.
But the bells don’t stop fucking ringing.
Layton
Finally.
I study Kane as he walks into the bedroom in nothing but a towel, beads of water from his recent shower still falling down the hardness of his body. And I feel them. The tingling in my spine, the low burn at the bottom of my stomach. We haven’t been intimate since the attack. My libido took a nose dive off a cliff and I’ve been trying in earnest to resurrect it for the past couple of weeks. I’m desperate to feel him, to have him completely empower me so I can eradicate the foreign feelings that are etched on my body.
I push myself back on the bed and sit up, resting my back against the headboard. The towel slips a little as he reaches up to push the window open a sliver, revealing a little of his ass. Oh yeah, I’m definitely ready.
“Are you staring at my ass?” He laughs, turning to face me.
Unabashed, I shrug. “You’re the one flaunting it about.”
“Now I feel cheap.”
“Aw, need your ego stroking?”
A quick fire of lust flames his eyes. I answer it by letting my legs fall open slightly. He licks his lips and steps closer to the bed. “You’re killing me right now.”
I don’t speak. Instead, I lift the hem of my nightshirt and pull it over my head. He drops the towel and climbs onto the bed, kneeling between my legs. His hand brushes against my skin, setting off goose bumps of anticipation. He leans his head in and captures my mouth. My body moves on instinct, shifting lower on the bed. He makes room for me, changing his position to hover over me.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs against my lips.
I move my hips to press against him. “Then don’t.”
He takes my mouth again, slowly, as his hand trails up my body to my breast. He rubs his thumb over my nipple, causing it to pebble in response. The action sends a quiver of pleasure through me, and I crave more of it. Without breaking the kiss, he moves his hand down my body to the apex of my thighs and runs his finger along the length of my pussy. I gasp from the touch as he continues to stroke me, and he moves his mouth to litter my neck with his lazy kisses.
“Layton,” he rasps, a whisper, a plea.
My hand fists in his hair as I push myself against his fingers. I’m desperate for more, every fiber of my being is standing on edge in anticipation. His head moves lower, his mouth closing around my breast. I moan as he flicks his tongue over the nipple, He’s teasing me, taking this slow because he’s still scared he’ll hurt me. But I need him.
“Please,” I beg, pulling slightly on his hair to lift his head. “I need to feel you.”
He pulls back from me, hooks his thumbs in my panties and pulls them off. He trails his hand along my leg as he comes back up to me, letting it slide over his shoulder. I feel him at my entrance, feel the pressure as he presses into me. His forehead rests on mine, his eyes demanding mine.
“Look at me,” he demands. “Just keep your eyes on me.”
I do and watch them darken as he gradually enters me. I ignore the way my mind wants to wander, wants to relive the foreign, and force it to stay here. With him. He moves inside me, slowly, torturously, building me up to the summit I’ve been craving. I feel his passion pouring into me and feed off its strength, lifting my hips to meet with his thrusts. He isn’t fucking me, not the way we used to. Kane Thatcher is making love to me, showing me that he can be both guys. The peak approaches, my breathing ragged. My whole body tightens, the rush of my climax flooding me as Kane moves faster. I don’t move my gaze from his. I stay locked with him as he rides my wave to his own release.
Bodies sagged, limbs tangled; he rolls so I’m mostly lying on him.
“How do you feel?” He asks, stroking my hair.
I’m quiet for a second, pulling my thoughts together as I trace the lines of his tattoos. “I feel,” I sigh, closing my eyes. “I feel like I just came home.”
He releases a long breath, as if he’d been scared of what I was going to say. “I love you, Layton.”
Inside I smile. “I know.” I press a soft kiss on his chest. “I love you, too.”
Together, sated and content, we sleep.
The sense of things becoming very serious is over us in the morning, like a cloud filled with hope and opportunity. We move in tune with each other around the apartment as we get ready for the day, stealing little touches and knowing glances. What we shared last night was new. Finally having him touch me after all the bad was fucking euphoric and has only strengthened what we’re building. I look at him now, admiring the way he’s gathering up all of our stuff to take to work so I don’t have to, and lick my popsicle. This hard, stubborn, caring, beautiful man loves me.
Sensing me, he turns and offers a smirk. “Enjoying that?”
I smile and nod, taking another lick. “I am.”
He shakes his head, “It’s seven in the morning.”
I shrug, patting my stomach. “Blame your kid.”
Kane walks toward me, gathering me into him so my back is against his chest. “You’re blaming the kid already?”
“Well what else could it be?” I laugh. “It’s not my usual to eat popsicles this early.”
“I once caught you eating ice cream with nachos. You weren’t pregnant then.”
I wince a little. “No, I was just gross.”
He snorts. “It’s normal though, right? The whole 'eating weird shit when you’re pregnant' thing?”
Again I shrug. “I don’t know.” I frown, looking at the brochures we got from the sonographer. “Maybe I should read those.”
I move out of his hold and pick them up, dropping them into my purse with a mental note to read through them at the store. Finishing my popsicle, I drop the stick in the trash and we head out the apartment. On a last thought, I grab two more popsicles from the freezer on the way out.
“Have you managed to find a mechanic yet?” I ask, as he locks the door behind him.
Kane grunts. “Too many assholes in this town. I’ve got some kid coming in today who’s from out of town, so hopefully not an asshole.”
I roll my eyes at him and turn, sparing a glance at my old apartment door. A smile touches my lips. Things have changed so much since I first walked through that door. Never in a million years did I think my life would go this way, that I’d be having a family to share with a man that loves me. A man that despite all of his darkness, is the most loving person I have ever come across. He makes me want to get up in the morning and fight, makes the world not seem so scary or hard. With him, I’m not that girl who takes the hits and rolls with it.
I’m not the girl that goes unnoticed, because when he looks at me, I know he only sees me.
“You think everyone is an asshole,” I laugh, as we take the stairs together.
“That’s because they mostly are. I need someone I can trust to be there when I’m not. When the baby comes, I won’t be there as much.”
He stops at the bottom of the stairs, turning to me. “My dad was never around much when we were kids. He left the raising to my ma.” He shakes his head. “I don’t wanna be like that.”
He doesn’t wait for me to respond, just walks out the door to the car lot. I follow him, cementing his words into my memory. Kane Thatcher is going to be the best dad in the world. But Lord help the poor kid if she’s a girl, and she tries to have a boyfriend in the future.
We talk about our plans for the day as we make the drive, the everyday kind of shit, and Kane tells me more about the guy meeting him there this morning—Aiden. It feels normal to talk like this, settled even. And for the first time in weeks, I let go of the dread that’s fixated itself within me.
I don’t lose it for long. It manifests within me again as we pull up to the wreckage that used to be my store. I should have known things were going too well for me. My life is never this good for too long. And it would seem as I climb from the truck in a daze, that life himself has fucked me in the ass once again.
I wait for the tears to come, as Kane curses and shouts at me to stay by the truck and call 911, but they don’t. Instead, I just stand and stare, feeling only the tiniest of jolts at the way my sign has been destroyed with the angry letters of whore sprayed across it. I won’t be calling 911, because the police can’t help me. I know who this is, what this is. It’s a reminder that I will never be able to live freely with these people so close, it’s a reminder that they can get to me, to what is mine, whenever they want. I look to next door and see the shop untouched. No, this was just for me.
I watch as a young guy walks up to the building and pokes his head through the broken glass of my window. He exchanges words with Kane, then steps through to the inside. Taking a deep breath, I follow him, only using the door as a matter of principle.
Inside is a mess. My stock litters the floors, ripped and ruined. The furniture Kane got for me is broken, lying in pieces on the floor, and I have to step over all the broken glass. I search for my sewing machine, the one my grandma gave to me before she died and breathe a sigh of relief when it’s untouched on the small table out back. I focus on that silver lining and let it fuel me to deal with all the rest.
Kane is raging, pacing up and down the room like a caged animal. The other guy in here is attempting to clear a path. When he disappears through to the kitchen area, I step to Kane, put my hand on his shoulder and press my forehead to his back. He stills, breathing for a second before turning to face me.
“I told you to wait outside,” he grunts, “It’s not safe in here.”
I sigh. “It’s not safe out there either.”
“Have you called 911?”
I shake my head, “No. I can’t.”
“Layton, what the fuck?” He kicks at some of the debris, turning his back to me.
“I can’t call the police, Kane, because they can’t help me.” He glances back at me. “This was them.”
“Where should I put all this?” I hear behind me. “Ah, sorry.”
Pulling all my strength, I turn and face the new guy. “Hi,” I force a smile. “I’m Layton.”
His smile is wary as he walks toward us. “Right, the other boss.” He holds his hand out, laughing. “His boss. I’m Aiden, I came about the job next door.”
I shake his hand awkwardly. “Yeah, Kane mentioned you were calling by. Sorry about the mess,” I laugh, then turn to Kane and hit him with an imploring look. “Take him through, I’ll make coffee.”
I don’t give him time to argue, and walk forward, opening the door to the shop. I motion them through, offering another smile to Aiden as he walks by. Kane stops in front of me, frowning. “Don’t touch anything. I will fix it.”
I touch my hand to his face. “Go do the normal,” I close my eyes briefly, “then I’m going to tell you all of the bad.”
“All of it?”
It’s time. “All of it.”
I leave him to deal with what I hope will be his new mechanic. Anyone who is willing to come and wade through this shit gets a thumbs-up in my book.
Making my way into the kitchen, I flip on the coffee maker and breathe. I rub my hand across my stomach absently, a habit I’ve fallen into, as I make a mental plan of how to clear the mess. I need to check the stock, check what has survived.
I pour out two cups of coffee; feeling the craving, I grab one of my popsicles, putting the other into the freezer. With the two cups in one hand, and my icy goodness in the other, I make my way to Kane in the shop. He’s sat with Aiden, talking about what to expect as I approach them. Kane looks up at me, as I set the coffee down on the table.
“Another one, really?” He shakes his head.
“It was looking right at me,” I turn to Aiden. “Did you want cream or sugar?”
“No, no. Black is fine.”
“Okay. Well, I’ll leave you guys to it,” I look to Kane. “Do you need me to do anything before I go next door and clean up?”
“Layton, sit down,” Kane says. “That’s what I need you to do.”
He looks at Aiden. “So, you’re good with all that?”
“Yeah, man,” he looks around. “It’s a good space, and my old man has had me working on engines since I was a boy,” he nods. “I can be here every day until whenever.”
He frowns a little. “Y’all are clearly in the middle of something at the moment, but that isn’t my business. Just let me know how I can help.”
“When can you start?” Kane asks.
“Right now. All my tools and shit are in the truck outside.”
Kane nods, “Okay, get the shutter open. First job isn’t in for another hour, so get your shit and set up. When they come in, deal with it. It’s only two tire changes. Don’t mess up my shit.”
Aiden laughs, standing. “You got it, boss.”
I watch as he leaves, then settle back on the leather couch and bring my legs up under me. “A little bit of good,” I say to Kane, smiling small, “to offset the whole load of bad.”
Kane leans forward, his elbows on his knees and gives me a pleading look. “Baby, who’s doing this to you?”
I sigh, finishing my popsicle, and pull my knees to my chest. “I’m going to tell you everything.”
And I do.
I lay it all out for him, every sordid detail of my own personal nightmare. I tell him all of it, from McKenna’s call, to being attacked, to the threat of it happening all over again, and then finally being dumped out the back of Vinny’s car. My tears fall freely as I recite it all to him and beg him not to do anything when I can see the anger rising within him. But he doesn’t hear me. I can see the rage taking over him, see its black claws dragging him away from me. I move to sit at the table in front of him, pulling his fisted hand to me. Working his fingers open, I force them to spread.
“Look at me,” I say, quietly first, then louder. I repeat, “Look at me.”
He does, his eyes raising to mine.
“Do you see me?”
He’s quiet, a war of emotion swimming behind his eyes, until finally, they clear. “I see you.”
“Good, because I need you,” I move his hand, placing it flat on my stomach. “We need you.”
“You’re not safe here. I want to protect you, but I can’t here. Not without becoming someone I don’t want to be ever again.” He releases a shaky breath. “We’ll leave. We’ll go tonight.”
“We can’t,” I reply, shaking my head. “You have the shop and I have the store. I’m not letting you give up everything you have worked hard for.”
“I don’t fucking care,” he growls, “I can start again. We’ll disappear, somewhere they won’t find us. Y
ou.”
He looks to my stomach, “This. This is what's important.”
“So, we just go?”
“We just go.”
“He’ll find you.”
We both turn to the voice that doesn’t belong to us. My hand reaches for Kane’s as I jump up.
“I thought you were dead,” I whisper. “I saw you. You were already gone.”
Bez stares at me, his eyes sad. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you, Layton. I’m so sorry.” He takes a step forward, stopping when Kane steps in front of me. “I couldn’t then, but I think I can now.”
Kane
It’s lingering, like the sharp edge of a blade at my throat. It wants me to give in to it, let it take me over and embody me, so it can do what needs to be done.
My eyes narrow on Bez, my instincts not sure yet whether to trust him or not. But he helped my girl, and he wants to help her now.
After a quick call to Grip, I’d arranged to bring him to their compound tonight. Bez said I needed more than just me, and the Black Rippers MC were only too happy to jump in. So now, we’re all sat around a big table making up a plan that’s going to get rid of Rick Michaels for good. Personally, I’d like to just walk into that club and rip the fucker's head off myself, but I can’t do that. I can’t be that person, because that isn’t the person I want to be. And it’s definitely not the person Layton and our child need.
She’s here, too. With Karie and some of the other girls, in a secret female only room. Karie has assured me they’ll look after her in there. She’s beat. It’s been a long day, hell, a long fucking month. We spent the day clearing out her store and boarding up the windows so no one else can come walking in. Aiden, my new guy, has turned to not be an asshole, and has helped out there. He managed the majority of the jobs today, mostly so I could see if he’s good enough. He is, so he’ll stay. Jackson was around all day too. Helping clear out the store and then working my appointment book and dealing with my customers. Also not an asshole.