by Lux, Vivian
Ada nodded stiffly. "Manny'll take you home," she offered. I wondered if she was trying to delay having to see him. Or maybe avoid seeing him in front of me?
"Okay mi hermana," I rose and bent down to kiss her cheek. "Thank you for rescuing me today."
Her eyes glittered as she looked up at me. "You'll figure it out, hermanita, you're smart as hell, and you know what you want."
Her words startled me. Not that I was smart but that she thought I knew what I wanted. Clearly I gave off more confidence then I felt.
When I met Manny in the parking lot and told him he needed to drive me over to the bridal salon, he only nodded tiredly and hopped back behind the wheel. I slid into the passenger seat without saying anything. My brother-in-law's quiet stoicism was something I appreciated, even if Ada didn't.
When I spied my little silver hatchback, I knew I had two choices. I could go home, eat something, sleep on it, maybe punish Crash a little with my absence, or make him a little worried that I wasn't coming back. Play a little game with him, and end up only hurting myself.
Or I could go right to him and say what I needed to say and let the chips fall where they may.
You know what you want... Ada's voice echoed in my head.
In this case, I did.
Crash's bike looked so out of place parked on the street of fussy Cape Cods that I had to suppress a laugh. I pulled into the driveway and leapt from the seat before I could lose my nerve. Before I could think further, I was rushing up the walkway and pounding on his door. I could feel the huge, stupid grin on my face.
It swung open, seemingly by itself, and I peered inside. Crash was standing there, stock still, clutching his cell phone. I couldn't read the emotions that were roiling across his face. There were too many of them.
He looked up at me finally, an inner struggle raging before he lowered the cell phone down. "Why did you make me do that?" he demanded, his voice tight with fury.
My wide smile froze in to a grimace. I stopped short, my profession of love dying on my lips as I saw how his fist was clenched at his side. He was pale, two blazing red spots on his cheeks, ready to lash out.
Instantly, my defensive temper rose to meet him. The angry, too-often-hurt, defense mechanism was in full effect. I stepped right up to his chest and prodded him with one accusing finger. "I didn't make you do shit, what are you talking about?"
Crash looked down at my finger and his nostrils flared in anger. "Revisit the past like that," he held the cell phone up in front of my face like it would mean something to me. His voice was rising, the tight control fraying at the edges, "Isn't this good enough for you?" he demanded, "Because this," he raked his hand around to take in the past month, "is all you get with me, do you understand?" His voice caught. "Isn't it good enough? Aren't I good enough?"
"I don't know what the hell you're talking about, and I have no idea why you're so pissed off," I informed him coldly.
He stabbed an accusatory finger into his cell phone, "Doc, right? You wanted me to call Doc?" And with that he whirled around in a fit of rage and threw his phone into the living room. I braced myself for the shattering crash, but it only bounced harmlessly off of the straight-backed couch. The fact that it didn't shatter into a million pieces seemed to piss him off even more.
"What the hell did he say to you?" I demanded.
Crash whirled on me like he had already forgotten I was there. "It's bad," he said. "That's all you need to know. I can't involve you in this, okay Gabi? This is not a side of me I ever wanted you to know."
His words cut me right down to the core "I already know about your sides," I said sarcastically "I was here for your seizure, wasn't I?"
He pressed his lips together in a thin white line, the only color on his face the bright blue of his eyes and those two spots of color blazing high on his pale sculpted cheekbones. "This is worse."
I couldn't recognize his face any more. The eyes that I had stared into as he moved above me, our pleasure in each other spurring us to new heights of ecstasy, were now the eyes of a stranger: hard, glittering, and bitter. I felt the pain like a knife in my chest and turned away before he could see me cry for the love that died before I could even speak its name.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Crash
I am a fucking asshole.
We knew that though, right? It's a well-established fact that I am not a nice person. Not a good person. That never fucking bothered me before.
But now I felt like an asshole and that was an entirely new feeling.
I didn't like it.
In fact, I fucking hated it.
I usually loved watching Gabi walk away from me. The view was spectacular from behind. But two times in one day was more than I could handle.
She didn't cry, didn't protest. She turned on her heel and made her way back to her car with more dignity than I had ever felt in my life. It was so fucking breathtaking, honestly, that I felt my hands reaching for her of their own accord. Once again, my body knew it should be doing even if my mind was still in the fuck-up stage.
A fucking safehouse. I couldn't believe it, but as far as I knew Doc had never lied to me and why would he now? But, a safehouse? I couldn't accept it. That wasn't the type of shit that happened to them...us. The Sons kept their heads down, kept things easy and light, doing things that, while not strictly legal, were low-stakes. We were brothers, we weren't a goddamned street gang.
And then there was the fact that the old fucker had hung up on me. I heard a sharp hiss and then the line went dead. It wasn't right. The whole thing wasn't right.
I had a half a mind to hop on my bike and go try to find them. But the rational side of me knew that they didn't want to be found. For better or worse, this didn't involve me. It was in my past. I was here now. I had been handed a golden fucking opportunity to start all over again, and here I was letting that past fuck up the now.
My cell phone buzzed furiously on the floor. I rushed over to it, ready to light into Doc for hanging up on me. But it was Sal, wanting me to come in to work early and help move some boxes. Even though I had nothing else to do, I told him no.
I needed to ride.
I found myself heading up the road to the reservoir again. Just like how my bike had led me to Lenape on autopilot, now it was leading me back to the place where I had been deliriously happy only a few hours ago. The sun was almost gone behind the dense trees and the winking skyline glittered like a jewel in the pale twilight.
Gabi would have been so happy to see that. I could picture her reaction, wide-eyed and gleeful, making wild gesticulations like words weren't enough to convey her feelings effectively. The disappearing sun brought a harsh chill to the air, and I wanted her behind me. Wanted her arms wrapped around my waist, inches from my cock. A promise of things we'd do later, when later became now.
This was the first time in my life I was planning for the future. Even if my plans involved nothing more than burying myself between her legs, it was still a plan. A fucking good one.
I pulled over to the shoulder and looked out over the dense network of highways, all leading off into the darkened eastern horizon. In the dim light, I could see a few wildflowers, the first pilgrims of early spring,
There were all these lives being lived below me. All that suburban stuff that I was born to, but never was able to accept. I was never going to quite fit in with an ordinary life, but then again, neither would Gabi. Like me, she lived between two worlds and was used to being an outsider in both of them.
And I loved her for it.
Oh fuck me, I just loved her.
I looked at those wildflowers, weeds really, and a strange sensation closed around my heart like a fist. It was going to suck ass, but I knew what I had to do.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Gabriela
I had my pajamas on, ready to put myself and this incredibly long day to bed.
When the doorbell rang, I nearly jumped out of my skin.
When I peered
through the peephole and saw Crash standing there, shuffling nervously, that surprise faded and a million other feelings rushed in to replace it. So many at once, that I didn't know which one to choose. So I opened the door instead.
He looked everywhere but at my eyes as he lifted his hand and held out his offering.
"I've never picked flowers for a chick before," he said ruefully, holding up an odd assortment for me to see. Clumps of dirt still clung to the root balls. "Wasn't really even sure how to do it. Some of these little flowery bastards really held on tight." He shook his head and extended the handful to me.
"You...picked me flowers?"
"Looked like a real asshole doing it in the dark, too," he chuckled. "But I saw this pretty field full of them up by the reservoir when I was pulled over to think and..., well fuck it, Gabi." I could see the dim outline of his Adam's apple as it bobbed up and down. "I've never even considered doing something like this before. " He chuckled arrogantly, "Never felt like I had to."
He finally turned and looked at me. He stood one step lower than me, but our eyes were the exact same height, so I could see the strange softness around them. I held my breath as he went on. "But you," he swallowed. "You make me want to do all the corny shit." He shook the flowers. "If I can make you smile, then it's worth it."
I stared at the flowers and I pictured him, bent over in the half dark in his leathers, carefully plucking flowers to bring to me, and I couldn't help it.
I smiled.
He grinned back. "Totally worth it then."
I took the cluster of weeds from his hand. "I'll go get some water for them, come in."
He stood awkwardly in the doorway, watching me as I located an old cheap vase and cleared a space for it on the kitchen table. Something heavy was hanging in the air, like he and I were in a stand-off, and I didn't want to be the one to speak first.
But he didn't move or speak, only watched me, and eventually I lost my patience. "Go sit down, you're freaking me out looking at me like that."
"Where should I sit?"
"The bed, asshole."
His grin was so quick I almost missed it. "I deserved that."
"Yeah, you did, asshole."
He sat down on the bed and let his head sink into his hands, looking like the weight of the whole world rested on his shoulders. I felt a spark of pity and went to sit next to him, carefully placing my hand on his strong, warm shoulder. I tried to ignore my body's immediately reaction to touching him. I was still pissed.
"That call," he started. "I wasn't prepared for it to be bad."
"How bad was it?"
"Bad," he said gruffly, staring off into the middle distance for a moment. I shifted on the bed and he startled, and looked at me, hard. His eyes darted back and forth, like he was reading me. Gently, he reached out and cupped his hand to my face for a moment, his lips moving silently. Like he was rehearsing what he was going to say next.
When he let go, I wanted to grab his hand and put it back. But instead I closed my fists tightly, digging my nails into my palm. Too many feelings to feel them all at once.
He took a deep breath and looked away from me again. "This whole, thing, you and I have going on? This," he opened his palms out, searching for a words to describe it and failing, "thing?"
He took another deep breath and tried again. "It started out the same way it always does. No wait, that sounds shitty too." He shook his head.
He looked too big for my bed, leaning forward, most of his weight on the balls of his toes, lightly resting there as if he wasn't sure he had permission to take up space. ""What I'm trying to say is, you snuck up on me, Gabs. We fucked, and it was fun. You liked it, I liked it, we were damn good at it too. I liked hanging out with you, I liked watching your ass. All that was the same...until it wasn't. I'd be lying if I said there weren't other girls out there who I liked fucking and who liked fucking me back. But this?" He reached back and clutched my hand, and I felt the electricity from his touch zing up my spine. I shivered and he nodded when he saw it. "It does that to me too. You do that to me. And that's something I've never felt before. And I'm not good at this shit, and I'm fucking it up left and right when I try to say it, so I'm just going to say it before I fuck it up any further. I fucking love you, Gabriela."
I had been waiting to say them so long the words nearly erupted out of me. "I fucking love you too, dammit."
He turned and settled back on my bed, no longer afraid to be there. His big hand under my chin was holding me fast while he searched my eyes. "I'm gonna say it nice, now," he murmured, and I couldn't keep my eyes off of his lips. "Seems like you deserve to have it said to you nice." He moved closer. "I love you, Gabi."
"I love...,,"
His mouth swallowed my words.
There is fucking, there is making love, and then there is fucking the person that you love. I never knew the distinction between the three until that night. The intimacy, the connection, the shared heartbeat and the thrill when I saw his own face contort in pleasure above my own. When I saw what it did to him to do these things to me.
When I shuddered to a halt, clutching tightly to his glistening back, I felt the tears at the edges of my eyes. Something inside of me had broken wide open when I came that last time, throwing open the closed doors in my mind and letting the cool breeze blow away the bad old hurts. The closets and darkened corners in my mind saw sunlight for the first time when I saw myself through Crash's eyes. Through the eyes of the man I loved. I closed my eyes, feeling brand new.
I was reborn.
*****
"It hasn't stopped."
Crash's naked body was stretched against mine, and I gradually swam up to consciousness in confusion. "What hasn't stopped?" I asked, trying to stifle a yawn and only half succeeding.
His fingers traced along my side, from the curve of my hip up to my waist and across my back to close gently, but firmly around my neck. That little gesture of possession. I arched my back, pressing my ass against him and those little springy hairs that surrounded his cock. I felt it stir as he spoke into my ear. "The wanting you," he breathed. "From the moment I met you, I didn't want anything else, I just wanted you. Again, and again and...."
His words were lost as he moved in between my legs. "You're going to kill me!" I complained, even as his tongue flicked across the soaked rim of my pussy.
"You're going to kill me," he retorted, looking up at me from between my legs with that devastating crooked smile. "And I'm gonna die right here, a happy man."
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Declan
My pulse was racing in my throat before I even opened my eyes, and when I saw the dark of the bunk, it didn't slow. Something was wrong.
Just a dream, asshole, I chided myself, you're turning into a fucking sap. It was true. That call from Crash had fucking rattled me for an entire week now, getting all tangled up in my dreams like the scratchy, sweat-soaked sheets tangled around my legs. Tonight I had dreamed about the boy dying, far away from me, able to see it but to do nothing about it. It was stupid, he was fine from the sound of him, and I was fine except for the being stuck in this fucking safehouse part. Everything was fucking fine so why were my senses on high alert?
I recognized the sound from my dream, a high whine, like a far off car on a distant highway. Right at the edge of hearing, but I honed it on it like a laser guided missile. "Mac?" I whispered in the dark. "You hear that shit?"
The grizzled old vet didn't say anything, surprise surprise, but I heard him sit bolt upright in his bunk. The shadow of his lanky frame was tense, and I saw his hand trail down to find the gun that never left his side.
I swore and reached for my piece.
"Fuck is that?" Case growled, shifting on his bunk, the springs groaning and protesting.
"Sounds like a hive of angry bees or something," hissed Thorn, still a country boy at heart.
J., the heaviest sleeper out of all of us, murmured something and collapsed over with a snore.
&nb
sp; I heaved myself over to the side of my bunk and pulled on my boots, holding my breath. It was the sound of cars, a whole lot of them, and a few cheap ass rice-burner motorcycles on top of it. Whoever it was, they weren't trying to be subtle. They wanted us to know they were coming.
I slipped my knife into my boot, my heart racing still faster. The stinky sweat of fear began to bead up on my forehead.
"Fuck. They found us," Case exhaled heavily.
"Get the fuck down!" I cried, as the front of the house exploded in a hail of gunfire.
Shouts of alarm rang through the house as everyone scrambled to their weapons. The ratatat assault of automatic fire made my blood run cold. "Fucking sounds like Baghdad in this shit," growled Mac, and I could hear the steel in the Gulf War vet's voice. He was going into commando mode instinctually, crawling forward on his elbows with his prized Sig Sauer P229 .40 caliber in his hands. Case and the other young guys weren't so careful, rushing towards the fight brandishing their Glocks like a bunch of gangstas. Teach and the guards on duty were already firing back, the loud reports of their AR-15s cracking like the pop of thunder before the storm rolls through.
I hauled my fat ass to my feet, cursing my knees, my back and the world around me as I rushed blindly into the dark. There was a strange elation, an electricity whirring in the air around me. After five weeks of sitting on our asses, waiting for something to happen, it finally was. The world narrowed down to a crystal clear pinpoint, and everything moved in slow motion as I rushed into battle. My heart rate slowed down, my senses crystallized and I recognized the adrenaline that came with working my rotation in the emergency room. You move without conscious thought; brain and body in perfect synchronicity. Decisions come quickly and easily with no second-guessing. I knew what was going to happen before it did.
And that was why I turned and rushed to the side door.