by Lynda Aicher
“Fuck the business.” Deklan stepped forward, lip curled with his insistence. “He needs to be responsible for his family. He needs—”
“To do what he believes is right,” Seth said, his quiet calmness a direct contrast to Deklan’s fire.
“He knows the risks,” Noah added before Deklan could counter. “To start, he’ll do most of his work during the day, like Seth does. He won’t be on the floor and,” he paused to ensure the last point was heard, “Quinn supports this.”
Deklan took one more drag on his cigarette then stubbed it out in the sand bucket. He shook his head, a slow grind of disagreement that went with his thinned lips. “It’s a huge risk.”
“How?” Seth challenged. “There’s nothing wrong with being the business manager of a club. He might be the youngest partner, but he’s more than capable of doing my job. Fuck.” Seth swiped his hands through his hair and seemed to pause when he found less of it. “I can’t even think of work, can you?”
“No,” Deklan croaked after a tense silence. “I can’t think of anything but Kendra waking up and every scenario that goes with it.” He drew out another cigarette and lit it between his cupped hands.
“Chain smoking isn’t going to help.”
Deklan nailed Seth with a glare before he deliberately lifted the cigarette to his mouth and inhaled. He never lost eye contact as he exhaled.
“How many people have you known who suffered head trauma like Kendra’s or injuries like Tyler’s?” Deklan asked. Seth didn’t respond. “That’s what I thought. Jessie MacCall, name number one.” He pointed to the back of his leg. “Died in the hospital after a mortar round blasted his helmet off and threw him into a brick wall. Gary Showman, number six, legs crushed by an overturned truck, died of a hidden blood clot thirty days after he was in the hospital. Sam—”
“I get it,” Seth barked. “Okay…I get it.” His tone eased and he dropped his head to stare at the ground. “You’ve seen more death than me. Handle it however you need.”
“I will.”
“But don’t think you’re the only one who’s had to deal with it.” Seth lifted his head to level a cold glare at Deklan. “I spent years navigating hospitals with my fucked-up mother.”
“And this is getting us nowhere,” Noah interjected and stepped between the two men to cut off the debate that no one could win. They’d all dealt with death and pain in the past. “So back to Marcus. Yes or no?”
Neither man spoke for a moment. Finally Deklan asked, “What do the others think?”
“Rock and V are for it.”
“So I’m outnumbered.” Deklan could count, so Noah didn’t respond. “Great.” He stubbed out the second cigarette and stared into the darkness.
“I think the worst of the media thrashing is over,” Noah said. “The story’s been tapped out with no one to prosecute. I…” He shook his head and pushed absently on a knot near his nape. “I hope like fuck they’re done.”
“Haven’t they done enough damage?” Seth’s question held none of the expected sarcasm, which made it almost haunting.
“More than enough,” Noah finally agreed, the admission hitting like failure on his part. “I’m sorry about that. I couldn’t stop them from reporting facts.”
“Hey.” Deklan waited until Noah looked his way. “It’s not your fault.”
Maybe not, but if he’d been able to do more…
“Don’t.” Seth stepped up beside him. “We can’t control everything, even though we want to.”
Noah gave a derisive snort and thought of Liv. But did he really want to control her or even claim her? Or was he really just looking for a partner?
Damn it. He was too drained to figure that out, and now wasn’t the time to think about it.
“Wasn’t V the one telling you that not too long ago?” He nudged Seth. Only a few months before the man had struggled with handing responsibilities over to some of The Den’s staff. “Now you’re not even blinking at dumping your jobs.”
Seth’s sigh seemed to speak for all of them. “It’s funny how priorities change when life shows you what’s really important.”
And that was it in a nutshell. Jobs, money, bills, even personal health took a backseat when someone you loved was suddenly threatened. In some ways, death was easier to deal with than the limbo of waiting. But there was no hope with death, and Seth and Deklan still had that to keep them going.
“I’ll talk to the others, let Marcus know the job is his,” Noah said because there was nothing to say to Seth’s comment. “It’s okay if he contacts you with questions, right?”
“Yeah.” Seth pulled out his phone, the screen lighting up his face when he swiped it on and started typing. “I’ll put together some notes tonight and send them to him.”
“Seth…”
“What?” He looked up to challenge Noah. “I won’t sleep anyway.”
Noah backed off. They needed the info, and sleep had been secondary for all of them. Hell, he couldn’t remember when he’d gotten more than four hours himself.
“Are we done?” Deklan asked, already heading to the door.
Yeah, they were done, but he still had a full night left at The Den. One without Liv. Would she be at his house when he got home? Her silence before they’d left that evening had him questioning that.
His time with her was slipping away. He felt it with every instinct he had. He’d been trying to keep his distance to lessen the pain, but he was already past that point, wasn’t he? It was going to hurt no matter when she left.
He watched Seth disappear into the hospital to play the waiting game once again. Back to the land of limbo that offered nothing actionable for men who were used to acting. That was a torture in itself.
But he wasn’t stuck in that same place, and it was time he defined his own fate. Somehow in all the pain that’d been dished at them, he’d managed to find his own glimmer of hope. One he was ignoring.
He did have choices and options and a chance with Liv. He just had to find the courage to act on it.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The light over the back door cast a solitary glow into the darkness when Noah turned into his short driveway. Missing was the warm shine of welcoming light through the kitchen windows.
His stomach turned in a hard mix of regret when he entered his house to find it cold and empty. He didn’t need to check his bedroom to know she wasn’t there. Her customary trail of jacket, shoes and bag were absent from the back entry. All items he’d come to expect.
Damn it.
He’d finally accepted that he wanted her in his home and life, and now she wasn’t. He spun around and slammed the door closed behind him as he exited the house. The excessive force smacked through the cool night air and rattled the glass in the windowpanes. He barely remembered to relock it before he stormed back to his car.
His anger was irrational, built on weeks of stress and indecision and shit thrown at him, but the greatest portion of his frustration was focused solely at himself. His rejection had hurt her. He’d shut down her giving nature, and now she was gone.
He jerked the car into Reverse and sped backward before slamming on the brakes. The car lurched at the sudden halt with a squeal of tires and a jolt that yanked the seat belt across his chest.
What in the hell was he doing?
He shoved the gear into Park and sat there, gulping breaths of airs. He was losing it. Over Liv. The decision to stop by the house instead of going straight to The Den was now taunting him. This was what action got him.
Right. He snorted into the quiet of the idling car. His inaction had gotten him this. Liv could still be at the hospital or out with friends or at V’s or anywhere. She was not required to update him on her whereabouts. They’d been sharing a bed and basically their lives for the last two weeks and…what? It meant nothing more than that because he was too scared to act on what she was offering, let alone talk about what was growing between them.
Friendship. Home. Family… Love.
All of it and more was there for him to have with Liv.
Fuck. He scrubbed his fingers through his hair, ready to rip it the hell out. His hands trembled, his throat ached and cramps tightened around his stomach. How had he gotten here?
The clock glowed bright blue in the darkness. Eleven o’clock. He should’ve been at The Den an hour ago. He should’ve gone straight there from the hospital. He should’ve checked on Liv before he left and not assumed she’d be here.
And the personal berating wasn’t helping.
He grabbed his phone and had a text ready to go, finger hovering over Send before he erased it. Nothing would be solved by demanding to know where she was. He took a deep breath and typed in a new text.
Heading to the club now. You ok?
The wait for a response was agonizing, and staring at the screen didn’t help. Knowing that didn’t stop him from doing it anyway. When nothing came back for long moments, he finally clicked it off and set the phone in the cup holder. Dejection sapped the last of his frustration and swapped in the blank shell of acceptance he’d survived in for so long. He stretched his neck, but it did little to make the old feeling comfortable.
When had he become so tired of simply existing?
His second attempt at backing up was executed with the controlled precision that was his norm. The drive from his house to the highway was spent logging where Liv could be. He wasn’t being a complete control freak over her absence. It’d become their habit to update each other on their schedules. Most likely, she was still at the hospital. V and Holden were out of town on a Glaciers’s road trip, and Liv hadn’t mentioned going out with friends since she’d been staying at his place.
He frowned. Now that he thought about it, she hadn’t talked about anyone outside of Shelly and Joan, who worked at the youth center with her. Someone as vivacious as Liv had to have a large network of friends and acquaintances. He couldn’t see her sitting home every weekend. Which led him to another thought—what did he really know about her?
The streetlights flashed by in regular intervals as he functioned on autopilot to the club. He flipped the temp down until the vents blew cool air onto his heated skin. He undid another button on his shirt, flicked on the radio and tried to let it all go.
That lasted all of sixty seconds before his mind was back on Liv. He knew so much about her. From how she liked her coffee to her overdriven need to help others. She preferred jeans over skirts, tennis shoes over heels, sandwiches over caviar. She only took no for an answer when she was ready to accept it, and her loyalty, once given, was almost impossible to destroy.
He didn’t know much about her life in general, but he did know her.
The strain in his shoulders decreased as he loosened his hold on the steering wheel. He knew Liv better after living with her for two short weeks than he’d known Beth after six months.
Liv wasn’t Beth.
The reminder was another drain on his resistance. Right now, he had none where Liv was concerned.
A call rang through, overriding the music coming through the speakers, and jarred him back to the fact that he was supposed to be focused on driving. His cell showed Rock’s name, so Noah swiped it on.
“I’m on my way,” he answered without the preliminaries. “What’s wrong?” Rock rarely called unless there was something Noah needed to address.
“Liv’s in the bar.” The man’s statement echoed through the car speakers with a booming note of alarm.
A single response wouldn’t hold in Noah’s mind. Everything from “what the fuck?” to “what do mean?” to “why?” or “how?” all tumbled through in rapid succession.
“I sent Carter down to corral her in the VIP booth. Figured she’d be safe there if he can keep her contained.”
“What the fuck?” Noah finally burst out. “How’d she get in? We have security and membership requirements for a reason, damn it.”
Rock didn’t respond, and Noah checked his mirrors before navigating to the exit ramp.
“She was given access to the garage and elevators two weeks ago,” Rock finally answered in a tone that questioned Noah’s sanity. “To get to Seth’s place.”
The desire to bang his head on the steering wheel was thwarted by the timely insertion of his control. “Right.” How could he forget that?
Liv had been shuffling clothes and items back and forth for the ones sitting in vigil at the hospital. In addition to the food, there’d been bags of cleaned clothes waiting by his back door every morning. He’d assumed his own replenished drawers of clean underwear, socks and undershirts had been due to his cleaning service. Maybe he’d been wrong. Liv had swiped up his dry cleaning and had it ready for the service to pick up before he’d even thought of it. What didn’t she do?
“And no one saw her getting off on the wrong floor?” Noah grumbled, not really expecting an answer. He scrubbed his face and checked for traffic at the end of the off-ramp.
“Why do you think I sent Carter down?” Rock made a sound that came across as a half laugh and snort. “She’s a lamb walking into a slaughter, even if she is as stubborn as her sister.”
“I’ll be there in five. Don’t let her leave that booth.”
“I’ll send that demand on to Carter.”
Noah didn’t miss the smile in Rock’s voice. Fuck. He ended the call and accelerated through the quiet streets. The industrial area didn’t have a lot of night traffic and he was thankful for that, as it allowed him to focus on what he was going to do with Liv once he got to The Den.
*
The dance music pounded a steady beat that vibrated through the soles of Liv’s low heels. Outside of the interesting outfits that included lots of leather, latex, skin, collars and leashes, it wasn’t all that different than any other dance club. At least on that floor. She hadn’t made it past the big red doors at the back to the other areas of the club.
Her stomach twisted at the thought of what was only one floor up. This was good enough for now.
She took a sip of her water and eyed the woman kneeling at a Dom’s feet at the table across from where she and Carter sat. Okay, so it was a little different.
“Why are you here, Liv?”
She turned to her self-appointed chaperone and flashed a wide grin. “Because I want to be, Carter. Why are you here?” His black jeans and white pinstriped button-down had him fitting into any number of clubs, except this one.
“To keep you out of trouble.”
She burst into laughter, unsurprised by his blunt reply. “I don’t need a keeper.”
He glanced around. “You do here.”
Arguing the point wouldn’t help, so she didn’t bother to try. She only wanted to observe. This was Noah’s world, or a part of it. Heck, it seemed to be everyone’s world except hers, and she wished to change that. How much was still in debate.
Carter nudged her leg under the table. “You know you’re poking at trouble, right?”
A slow smile spread over Liv’s lips in time with the flare of nerves that swept through her. “I know exactly what I’m doing.” His deep laugh was joined by hers. Well, maybe she didn’t know exactly, but hopefully she’d figure it out after tonight.
He looped an arm around her shoulders and tugged her into a side hug. “Be careful, okay? It’s easy to do what you think you want when it’s really what someone else wants.”
She rested her head on his shoulder, his hand stroking the skin on her bare arm in comforting glides. “Is that code for ‘don’t submit to Noah because he wants me to?’”
His sharp bark of laughter was swallowed by the music. He gave her a squeeze and leaned his head on hers. “Exactly.”
Their elevated rounded booth gave them a clear view of almost the entire room and she smirked at the VIP sign perched at the edge of the table. The looks people were shooting their way said more than a few disagreed with their sitting there.
“I’m guessing this is where the partners usually sit.” She didn’t speak loudly. It was more
of an observation than anything else. This space belonged to the people who owned the club. The ones who were into the BDSM lifestyle and not only risked exposure but had endured its fallout to give others a place to indulge in what society deemed wrong.
Understanding slammed into her slow acceptance and even slower comprehension. Her actions were the equivalent of her thumbing her nose at something Noah valued. At what everyone here valued.
What have I done?
She jerked away from Carter, breath hitching in a gasp. The sick swirl of her mistake flushed through her in a heated rush.
“What?” His brows lowered in concern as he searched her face.
What was she trying to prove? Her pulse beat too fast and seemed to drive her heart into the churning knot in her stomach. “I shouldn’t be here,” she whispered, voicing her thoughts. “Not now. Not without Noah. That’s what he tried to tell me.”
She was already scooting over the vinyl seat when Carter grabbed her arm. “Wait. What are you talking about?”
Questions were littered across his face. “This is me being dumb and defiant. I thought I could push him, but this isn’t the right way. He needs me to give, not push.” She’d been so hurt and determined to find answers that she hadn’t even tried to understand Noah’s reasoning.
“Liv,” Carter called as she tugged her arm free and took off toward the elevator. If she moved fast enough, she could be out of there before Noah arrived. “Wait up.”
She weaved through the mingling crowd in the bar area, aware of the eyes following her the whole way. Her simple cotton miniskirt and fitted blouse were about the sexiest clothes she had, and they were downright frumpy here.
What a joke on her.
“Liv!” Carter caught up to her at the entry to the hallway. Her escape was so close. “Stop a second.” He grabbed her shoulder, and she slowed down once they were away from the prying eyes.
He dipped to peer at her and she was afraid of what he’d see. Somehow, she managed to grab hold of her backbone and meet his gaze. “What?”