Living A Beautiful War
Page 21
With heavy steps, he followed her upstairs and went into their room. He shut the door behind him.
The room, already furnished before they moved in, now reminded him of Lilly with all the extra touches. There were wooden bowls on the coffee table filled with wrapped candy. He moved closer. Two of his favorites treats and a bowl of caramel squares, which Lilly enjoyed.
A well-loved throw she used to cover up and watch movies with at college sat folded on the back of the couch. He'd given her the blanket at her going away party. Surprised that she'd kept it, he also knew she cherished everything that meant something to her.
He sniffed, smelling pizza, and walked into the kitchen. Under the warmer in the oven sat a plate with three pieces. He rubbed his forehead, regretting his choice to leave her today. She'd saved dinner for him, and he'd left her with tons of shit to do and the worry that she'd done something wrong.
He walked into the bedroom and found her sitting on the floor on the side of the bed putting books underneath her nightstand. How many times had he dreamed about coming home and having Lilly greet him with a smile?
She couldn't even look at him.
"Ace?" He set his helmet, keys, and gloves on the dresser. "You have a minute for me?"
"I want to get the bedroom stuff put away, because tomorrow is going to be a big day. It's the only time we have to make sure everything is set up before we open on Friday night," she said.
"Just need to talk to you for a few minutes." He sat on the bed and unlaced his boots, prepared to make her listen.
"Talk?" She pushed off the floor. "So, it's okay when you want to talk, but when I have something to say, you shut me out."
"No." He toed off his socks. "I shouldn't—"
"This is the biggest moment of my life. I was riding a high having my family around us, my parents helping us improve the Sterling Building, the surprises from you, and my man supporting our new venture." She pushed the empty box at her feet away. "Instead, I had everyone else bending over backward to make up for your absence and trying to cater to my wishes, so that I wouldn't start throwing things. Well, you know what? Today sucked, so excuse me if I don't feel like listening to you talk."
He accepted what she told him. "I screwed up."
"Yeah, you did." She carried a new box over to his side of the bed and dropped it to the floor. "I'm done letting you have space and time to get over whatever I did wrong. You don't want to explain why you're acting like an asshole, fine."
"I want to talk," he said.
"Oh." She rounded on him. "Then tell me why it's a big deal that I overheard a conversation when I was little."
"I get what you're saying." He stood. "It's no big deal now."
"Then tell me why you almost bit off Torque's head and you've been having sex with me whenever we have two seconds together, just so you don't have to explain why you're upset."
"It doesn't matter anymore." He pulled off his shirt. "I said I screwed up."
"You're doing it again." She threw up her arms. "Tell me where I'm going wrong, because I feel like I'm letting you ride right over me. Do you think because I've always done whatever I can to get your attention, I'll be happy with the little information about yourself that I squeeze out of you?"
He walked over to the bathroom, needing to escape and falling right into the pattern she was bitching about. What she asked was impossible to answer. He didn't know how to get past this, except to tell her he was over it.
"Can't you drop it?" He returned to her and hooked her neck. "I'm here. I won't walk away again. I know today was your special day, and I'm sorry for fucking it up."
Her lips pursed and she shook her head. He brought her forward, kissing her forehead. Her body remained unbending.
"Ace," he whispered. "I love you."
"I know." She straightened and planted her hands on his chest. "I love you too, and that's why this ends now. I want to know why you're upset that I know you use tattoos to cover the scars you made on your arms as a child."
"Fuck," he mumbled. "Let it rest."
"No."
He stared back at her, angry over her refusal to drop the subject. There was nothing he could say to make the situation better, except move on. That's what he thought he'd done, until he'd asked her to explain why she loved him.
"Talk to me," she said.
He scratched his ribs around the tattoo that was scabbed up and healing. All she was looking for was a fight, and he wasn't going to give her one.
"Ink, please explain."
"There's nothing to say. I got pissed because I never wanted you to know what I do...did. Now you know. I used to cut, and it moved into putting tattoos on my body. End of story. I already told you that," he said, out of patience. "You know it, so we don't have to stand here and rehash why I'm covered in tattoos. Just forget about them."
Her eyes flickered. "Why did you cut yourself?"
"Okay. I'm done." He moved to the other side of the bed away from her. "It's been a long day. There's a lot to do tomorrow, and I'm beat."
"Ink..." She put her knee on the bed and leaned her weight on the mattress. "What would make a little boy hurt himself?"
"Jesus Christ." He reached down and flung the bedspread down to the foot of the mattress. "Who knows?"
"You do," she whispered. "Let me understand—"
"Fuck. Do you want to know why, so you'll shut up?" He held out his arms. "Because there was no one in my life who gave a shit about me. When I cut myself it hurt like hell. I felt pain. I felt alive. I was reminded that no matter what foster home I was in, that as long as I could make myself feel something, it took my mind off being the kid whose mom dropped him on the doorstep for the state to raise. I'd become numb until the point where I never paid attention to the foster family I lived with or moving to a new school. I felt nothing, except when I cut myself. Every slice, every pain, every time I moved, I was reminding myself that I was still alive and I had feelings like normal kids. I wasn't a lost cause. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"Ink," she whispered getting off the bed.
"No." He held his hands up. "You're ready to jump in and play therapist. I don't need that. I'm still alive at thirty-four years old. I'm pretty sure I've got a few years left to spend with you."
"I wasn't going to say anything." Her eyes flinched and she continued. "I was going to hug you."
The sight of her hurting for him made his legs weak. He sat on the edge of the bed, not facing her. "When I gave you the tattoo, you asked if I got the same reaction. You became aroused, and asked me if that happens to me. It doesn't. It's different."
"How?" she asked, coming to his side and sitting beside him.
"It's calming." He leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. "When Torque handed me the tattoo supplies years ago and told me to practice, because the other guys wanted to get flames, I practiced on myself and ignored the artificial skins that came with the kit. For the first time in over a year, I got relief from my addiction of cutting myself to feeling emotions through piercing my own skin with a tattoo machine. Eventually, I looked down at my arms and nobody could see where I'd scarred myself."
"I don't believe Torque or anyone else was asking you to hide your scars," she said, laying her hand on his forearm.
"Right." His chest tightened. "Except, that's what I did and I continued to ink in my body when I felt the urge to hurt myself. The other night when you came into the bathroom..."
She gathered his hand in hers and squeezed.
"There was no urge to mark myself. I tried to keep going, and all I felt was more stress and no relief. I couldn't even hold the damn machine steady, because my hands were shaking so bad. When I told you that I couldn't do it, I meant giving myself a tattoo was doing nothing for me. It hurt, and not in a good way that reminded me that I could still feel. Then you laid down, trusted me, and even though I've been an asshole all week and worried about you, I haven't had the desire to tat myself. Not once."
"W
hy do you think that is?" she asked, bringing his hand up to her mouth and kissing his knuckles.
"I didn't know until I was riding home and it all made sense." He gazed at her. "I don't need to force myself to keep feeling and being afraid I'm too hard and numb from surviving my childhood, because I feel your love. I've felt that love since you were twelve years old, and now you're mine. I don't need to hurt myself to keep reminding myself that there's a part of myself I've kept alive that my past has not touched. Nobody can hurt me anymore, but you. You remind me every second of the day that I'm capable of loving you back. You've never doubted me."
"Never. Not even once have I second guessed my love for you," she said, leaning against him.
"You gave me your whole life, Ace. Nobody has done that for me, and I swear I won't fuck up again."
She kissed him. "I have no doubt you'll fuck up again, so will I and I'll be right here to tell you what an asshole you're being."
He chuckled, grabbing her hand. "Will you do me a favor now that we're done bull shitting?"
"Name it," she said.
He pulled her off the bed. "Show me what I missed out on today, and where you've decided to put all your new things."
She dragged him to the door. He walked out of the apartment suite barefooted and shirtless and carrying a lighter weight on his shoulders. For the next two hours, he listened to her talk about all the improvements and admired all the items she had to show him. Listening to her talk was the best part of his day, because she was happy.
Chapter Twenty Seven
The extra overhead fixtures in the Sterling Building cast all eight dancers in their own spotlight. As the girls danced, they weaved within the shadows before having the focus come back on them. The lighting effect gave each customer their own personal peep show, while allowing the girls to flirt with how much of their bodies to show in the light.
Lilly, leaning her back against Ink's chest, snuggled in his arms, loving the change. The extra touch put energy into the routine and the girls wooed the crowd. The classy new atmosphere had the customers on their best behavior and handing over their hard-earned money.
The darker curtains, the new sexy décor, and the announcement before the show that Silver Girls would be opening up five nights a week, plus the decision to serve drinks during the show made the night a celebration for everyone involved.
Ink hugged her tight. "You sure know how to put on a show, Ace."
"I couldn't have done it without your help." She turned her head, kissed his lips, and said, "Thank you."
"Thank me later." He continued holding her. "Is everything okay with Risa? She looks like she's ready to cry."
She turned her head and found Risa sitting at the table reserved for Bantorus members. Kurt stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders. Her friend watched the show and in the reflection of the lights, her eyes shone brightly with unshed tears.
"I'll go check on her." She patted his thigh and he let her go. "I'll be back."
Lilly skirted the edge of the room, staying out of the customer's view of the Silver Girls. She approached the table and kneeled down beside Risa's chair. Up close, her friend was barely holding it together.
"Honey? What's wrong?" She rubbed Risa's hand.
Risa shook her head and smiled. "Hormones. Oh, Lilly, you've done a beautiful job with Silver Girls. I'm so proud of you, and what Bantorus MC has within the family. You've taken what I always wished for the girls and made it possible for them to have a decent job, good working conditions, and continue to give back to the community. It's everything I've wanted for this town, and knowing you carried on what I set out to do makes me so damn proud of you."
Lilly swallowed the lump of emotions gathering in her throat over the praise. She understood what Risa was telling her, and she felt humbled. Risa wanted to correct her reputation of being a prostitute's daughter, and with Silver Girls continuing to bring support and class to the town, people would admire Risa for what she'd accomplished on her own and not what her mother had become. "I couldn't have done it without everyone's help, and you gave me my start. I will make you proud and I swear Silver Girls will always be a part of this community."
Risa leaned over and hugged Lilly. "Love you. Thanks for taking care of me. Your friendship has been—"
"Oh my God, stop. I love you, too." Lilly went back on her heels. "Now, waddle your pregnant ass home. No more tears or you'll have me crying."
Risa laughed. "Then we'll be in trouble, because all the bikers will close the place down."
"They can try." Lilly grinned and ran her hand over Risa's baby bump. "Seriously, go home and rest. You've been here almost all day to help and that baby needs fed and put to bed."
The music died down and the voices of the men filled the room. Lilly stood and made her way to the back of the room and reached the spot where she'd left Ink as the next dance started. Cutter stood where Ink had been.
"Where's Ink?" She squeezed between Cutter and Big Dawg, pressing her back to the wall.
Cutter pointed toward the back hallway. Ink and Remmy stood privately talking in the alcove. She turned her attention to the girls, who were performing their last dance. All eight of them working their magic, and let their love for entertainment lead them away from the rehearsed dances.
She couldn't have planned it better.
While frequent practice and set routines were great, what the girls created on their own— going with the mood, the music, the atmosphere— was simply beautiful. One could almost forget that the business was about titillating men for money and view the show as an art form. Those were her girls, and it was the dedication and spirit of all of them working together that would make Silver Girls famous in the Silver Valley.
The music ended and the girls danced their way out of the room. Beckett turned on the lights. Lilly blinked, adjusting her eyes to the brightness. Remmy announced the end of the show. She looked around for Ink.
The other men's height and bulk made finding Ink impossible. She couldn't see over or around them, so she stayed at the wall. Content to have Bantorus MC escort the customers out of the building, she decided tomorrow she'd put the riders on the payroll. They might as well earn something for all the security they provided, and after tonight, she could afford the expense.
Cam sauntered toward her. She smiled, caught up in believing everything was working out great.
"Nice Show, Lilly." Cam stood beside her with his back to the wall. "I want to thank you for taking on our women. I think everyone in the club has noticed the improved attitudes coming from the girls. They love dancing, and the club appreciates Bantorus MC's generosity on letting them work."
"It's my pleasure." She grinned up at him. "Did you see how well they all danced? That's talent they brought to the table themselves, not me. Your men should be proud of them for all the hard work and hours they've put in."
"I'll spread the word and let them know," Cam said.
She waved to one of the customers who caught her eye on the way out the door. "The girls are excited about going full time."
"I heard. You've brought class to the girls where they've only had people looking down on them. No money can buy that," Cam said, looking down at Lilly's boots. "I hear a rumor that congratulations are in order."
She laughed. "Word gets around fast."
"Well, your man is protective of you. I would be too if I had a woman like you." Cam's smile faltered. "Ink's a lucky man."
The leader of Moroad MC was charming in a quiet and respectful way, yet for all his polite conversations with her, he seemed to keep a hard exterior about him. Wanting to change the subject, she nudged him with her elbow. "So, is one of the dancers yours?"
His chin dropped and his left brow lifted. "I haven't lived the kind of life that allows me to settle on one woman."
She nodded in understanding, though she would never want to live life alone. Many bikers came about from lives they wanted to outrun and found a home with others who were not bl
ood related. They kept their past secret and embraced club life.
"I better go outside and wait for the women." Cam's gaze went to her chest and back up to her eyes. "Congratulations again on tonight and on your relationship."
"Thanks," she said, but he'd already turned his attention away from her and walked away.
Beckett gave the all clear and she joined him at the door. Locking both deadbolts, she brushed her hands together and squealed. "I need to talk to the girls."
"Go." Beckett laughed. "Tell them we'll be partying at the clubhouse tonight. You and Ink should come."
"I'll ask him." Lilly walked backward away from him. "But, I think we might want to have a nice, quiet night to ourselves."
Beckett shook his head grinning. "You've already got Ink pussywhipped, girl."
"I'm trying, but there's a long way to go. Ink's a biker. You know how all bikers are stubborn assholes without us women to keep them in line." She spun around laughing, waved over her shoulder, and headed to the dressing room.
She spotted Ink by the backdoor and went straight to him. He turned, and she jumped into his arms, laying a huge kiss on his lips. He tugged her up tighter to his body and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Happy for the added height, she pulled her lips away with a smack.
"What do you think about me, you, us, going upstairs as soon as you lock up and getting into bed?" She rubbed his top lip to remove the lipstick she left behind. "I think I could come up with something for us to do."
"Yeah?" He backed her against the wall in the hallway. "Hold that thought, because I had other plans."
"What?" She stuck her lower lip out.
He leaned forward, licked her mouth, making her laugh. "Me, you, us, fucking."
She laughed loudly, loving his suggestion. "Where?"
"Here, upstairs, on the floor, maybe the table, and if you're lucky, we'll sneak out when everyone in town is sleeping and I'll take you on that new fancy bench sitting outside of the building."