“I’ve seen worse. Maybe not a lot worse, but that’s rarely what matters. I’ve seen people who’ve looked pretty okay, and they still haven’t been able to deal with it. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
“I think so.”
“That in the long run, it’s not about how bad it was, but how you deal with it. Or even that you deal with it, and you are.”
She averted her eyes, and he let her think on it. He had a feeling she was done for the day, but he was wrong. It didn’t take her long to look at him again.
“Is that what happened to your sister?” she asked, and Roach didn’t know what to say. Eliza shook her head. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“Yes, that’s what happened,” he said. “She gave up, and I didn’t do anything about it.”
“Not much to do when someone gives up,” Eliza said with a shrug of her shoulders. Roach had heard the same thing so many times, that there’s no helping those who didn’t want to be helped, and he wasn’t sure he believed that. “I’m sorry I asked.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell you about it sometime.”
“Okay.” She smiled.
“Still hooked on guns?” he asked her.
“Um… It’s really the shooting I like.”
“But you do know gun safety and cleaning guns?”
“Sure.”
“Wanna help me clean guns this weekend?”
She stared at him, and then she started laughing. “Told you they’d see you as a prospect if you started cleaning in the clubhouse. He put you on gun cleaning duty.”
“Actually,” Roach smiled. “I asked for it. Thought you’d like it.”
oOo
Mel
Mel had been going to the window every time she heard a bike approach. Given that she was at a damn biker club she’d gotten a proper workout that day.
“By the window again?” Brick asked with a laugh when he came into her office. “She’s fine.”
“I don’t like it when she rides with people I don’t know, and she touched him.” Mel turned around and looked at him. “Do you trust him with her?”
“I trust her,” Brick answered. “And whatever he’s doing is working. Don’t worry so much.”
But Mel worried. She’d bloody worried since the day that girl was born, and she would continue to worry. She wanted to trust Eliza just like she used to, but it was hard. If this was because Eliza was different or because of what had happened, she didn’t know.
After what happened, they’d talked to counselors, as a family, her and Brick as a couple, and individually. For them as parents it was a lot about how to behave when they were with Eliza, which Mel understood perfectly well was necessary, but she’d found it hard to act in ‘the right’ way while her whole goddamn world was falling apart around her. She’d tried to pick up the most important parts and keep those in mind, but she was so scared. Not only about saying or doing the wrong thing but also about not being able to cope. The counselor had told Mel it was a mourning process for her, too, but when the hell was she supposed to mourn? It wasn’t that fucking easy to mourn the loss of a person who was still alive. Not without feeling extremely selfish.
So she didn’t, and now, when Eliza was getting better, Mel was apparently having her own mental breakdown.
“Hey,” Brick said and came up behind her. She felt his arms around her waist, and then his mouth was on her neck. “She’s a strong girl, she got it from us both. And she’s smart. Even at her worst, she knew how to read people. Also, Roach has a pretty good idea of what I’ll do if he hurts her in any way.”
“Okay,” Mel said and turned around. She put her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss. “I love you.”
“How much?”
He hardly ever asked that, so she glared at him. “What are you after, Brick Baxter?”
“A date.”
They’d used to do that, take an evening out with a nice dinner and a night at a hotel. It had been months since they had, though, and she’d missed it.
“Did you already talk to Eliza about it?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Had a feeling you did. I take it she was okay with it.”
“It was her idea. She thought you deserved it, and she has booked us a room. She said it was very fancy, and that you’d love it.”
That was when she heard another bike, and she tried to squirm out of Brick’s arms, but he wouldn’t let go.
“Say yes,” he smiled.
“Yes!”
“Go check on her.”
“How do you know it’s her?”
“I know what his bike sounds like.” Brick took another kiss. “You need to learn that, honey.”
“No, I don’t. Let me go, and I’ll buy some nice lingerie and give you a blowjob on our date.”
“Go look after our baby girl,” he laughed and let her go. “I’m holding you to that promise, babe.”
“I’m counting on it,” she said over her shoulder on her way outside.
She halted when she saw Eliza and Roach talking to each other. When he handed her a cigarette, she took it, but she took it by grazing his hand. It didn’t look conscious at all, it was just something she did to make sure they didn’t drop it. Then Roach noticed Mel, and nodded in her direction to bring her to Eliza’s attention. With a hand on the small of her back, he gently pushed her towards Mel.
Some people were about scents, or what was pleasing to the eyes, but Eliza was about how things felt in her hands. When she was a kid, she’d loved it when she got to peel almonds by boiling them and then plopping them out of the shell. She’d always ended the peeling by sticking her hand into the wet, peeled almonds with a big smile. When she baked bread, she kneaded that dough until it was perfectly smooth, and then she ran her hand over the surface of the dough with a pleased expression on her face. Eliza would never dreamed of using a mixer to make dough. But it wasn’t just baking, it was everything.
When she was around three years old, they’d asked her what she liked best about each family member, and it was all about her favorite places to touch. The best about Brick was how his mustache felt against the palm of her hand, on Mel it was the soft skin just under her collarbone. Mac’s best spot was the short hair in his neck, and Mitch got the big honor of being the best hand-holder. “His hand fits mine,” she’d said. He’d bragged about that for months.
So when she’d hated touching other people, it had been a big part of her that had disappeared, and seeing her touch Roach was a big thing for someone who knew Eliza. Or rather, the way she touched him. Her hand stroking his, and even if it was for just a fraction of a second, Mel could tell that Eliza liked how he felt under her hand. That was how Eliza showed that she liked people, and not necessarily in a boy-girl kind of way, just that she approved of them. And she hadn’t approved of many people lately.
But Mel knew it most definitely wasn’t something she should make a big deal out of, or even comment on. It was possible Eliza wasn’t aware of it herself, so she tried to smile when Eliza came closer.
“I hear you and Dad are ganging up on me.”
“I thought you’d like it,” Eliza said with a shrug. “I picked a really nice hotel. They have a spa section.”
Mel laughed and put an arm around her. “Where have you and Roach been?”
“Tucson for breakfast.”
“What’s in Tucson?”
“As it turns out, not much,” Eliza answered with a smile. “It was more for the ride.”
Eliza had always loved rides. Mel appreciated them from time to time, but they didn’t work well with her pencil skirts and high heels.
“I know you’re gonna roll your eyes, but I’m still going to ask, will you be okay alone?”
As suspected, Eliza rolled her eyes, but she did it with a giggle. “I will, Mom. I think I’m going to be just fine.”
“You should go to Tucson more often,” Mel said hugged Eliza closer.
“Or just ta
ke more rides.”
CHAPTER SIX
Close Your Eyes
oOo
ELIZA WAS THIRTEEN THE first time a boy asked her out on a date. She’d been thrilled, until she came home and told her mom and dad. Brick had turned bright red before screaming something she couldn’t even make out. Then her mom sent him out.
Sadly, he’d been home when the boy—Daniel, she thought his name was—came to pick her up. Brick hadn’t even said anything; his mere presence had freaked Daniel out to the degree that he’d just barely dared to look at her for the rest of the evening.
She was fifteen the first time she was kissed, and not even Brick’s grumbling had managed to chase away the butterflies in her stomach when she got home that time.
oOo
Roach
Eliza was taking their assignment seriously. Roach had put all the weapons on the table in one of the backrooms at the clubhouse, and they were cleaning them together. The only hiccup had been when she kept insisting he’d have a piece of gum. He’d brushed his teeth that morning, but apparently it wasn’t enough for her. She was sitting next to him, and she’d been talking nonstop in a way she’d never done before. And then she suddenly said it.
“Roach, could you kiss me?”
“What?! Whatta you mean?” What the fuck was she on about? Like, if he could or if he would, or if he wanted to. Which he didn’t; it wasn’t something he’d even considered.
“Just… so I get to feel what it should be like.”
That could possibly have been the saddest fucking thing he’d ever heard. Or not, but it was pretty fucking sad. “You’ve never been kissed before?”
“Yes, but not, like, real kisses. Just pecks, or I don’t know… I don’t remember. And they… What they did was…” She didn’t have to finish that sentence, he got it. She put the gun down on the table and moved to sit on the chair next to his. “It’s like everything before is wiped away, and I want to remember the good things about it. The good things about touching. Please?”
“Princess, you’re gonna get me killed dead.”
“Killed dead? Is that a thing?”
“If Brick finds out, he sure as shit is gonna come up with a new level of dead.”
“Please.”
“Is this why you insisted on me chewing gum?”
“Yes,” she admitted with a smile. “Please.”
“You realize that kissing involves touching?” he tried in a final attempt to just get the damn thought out of her head.
“I rode bitch with you, Roach. We touch.”
Did they? They were. He just hadn’t thought about it before, but he was touching her. Not groping, or anything, but taking her hand to get her off a couch, or a hand on the small of her back, stuff like that. It had just happened and he hadn’t noticed it, but he wasn’t surprised she had. Which was probably why she’d gotten the insane idea that he should kiss her.
“Princess, this is a really shitty idea, for a lot of reasons.”
“Why?”
“Besides the killed dead thing, it’s… going to turn this into something it shouldn’t be.”
“What? No! It’s not like that. It’s not like I’m in love with you or anything. It really only is about the kiss.”
“No. I can’t.”
“It won’t be weird. We’ll kiss, finish cleaning these guns, I’ll go home, and we’ll see each other, like, tomorrow or something, and it’ll be just like normal. I promise.”
But it didn’t work like that, and he knew that. This was one of those things he really should avoid at all costs. To his own surprise, he’d come to like her, and she was cute as a fucking button when she was in the right mood, but that was as far as he’d allowed those thoughts to go. Kissing had a nasty tendency to bring out other things.
“Princess, it’s not going to happen.”
She picked up the gun again and kept polishing, but she fell silent. And soon he heard the first snivel.
“Are you crying?” he asked.
“No,” she whimpered. “Maybe a little. Is it because I’m, like, disgusting?”
“What?! What the fuck are you on about now? Why would I think you’re disgusting?”
“Because you know they… came in my mouth.”
“Jesus fucking christ, Princess, no! Absolutely not. That’s… fuck.” Holy shit, he’d dug himself a deep one this time. “No one will think you’re disgusting.”
“I do,” she whispered.
Maybe he could just load a gun and shoot himself. That would be the best outcome he could think of right then, and he might’ve considered it if he’d actually brought bullets for the guns. Then he sighed. There was no fucking good way out of this for him, so maybe he could just… make her feel better. No matter what he said now, she’d think it was because of her.
“Give me another piece of gum.” He took it and then handed her a paper towel. “And dry off your face. I’m guessing tasting tears isn’t gonna help.”
Her eyes flew up, and she stared at him for a few seconds before shaking her head. “No. It won’t.”
“I’m doing this once. It is not going to happen again—ever. And you can’t tell anyone. Not your mom, Billie, or anyone of The Green Pussycats—”
“Kittens.”
“Whatever. No one. And I’m not putting a stop to it after this because I think you’re disgusting. I don’t. I think you’re really pretty, and you’ll make some guy really fucking lucky one day, but you’re not my luck, Princess. Are we clear?”
“Yes,” she nodded and wiped off her face.
“Repeat it.”
“It won’t happen again.”
There was one more thing he wanted to be sure of.
“Just to be clear. This isn’t about me? You just want to know what it’s like?”
“Yes, because besides my dad, my brothers, and Bull, you’re pretty much the only guy I can even be close to. And I really don’t want to kiss Bull.”
“Yeah, I can’t blame you for that. You’re not in love with me, or some shit like that?”
“No!” she exclaimed with a slightly disgusted facial expression.
“Good. Just making sure.” He stood up and took the gum out of his mouth. “Stand up.”
“Why?”
“If I’m gonna risk my life for a fucking kiss, it’s going to be a good one.” Also, it was probably better for her to stand up. It was least likely to bring back bad memories for her.
“Oh, yeah, that makes sense.” She dropped the paper towel on the table next to the rag she’d used to clean the guns. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” He took a step closer. “I’m going to touch your face. Is that okay?”
She hesitated, and for a second he thought he might get out of it.
“Could I keep my hands on your face, too? So I can feel you. That way I know it’s you.”
“What?”
“I kind of get to know people by feeling them. Not, like, groping, but how they feel. Dad says I was blind in an earlier life.”
“Okay. Sure.”
She took a step towards him and carefully put her hands on his cheeks. If she hadn’t mentioned it, he probably would’ve missed how her expression changed when her hands carefully stroked his cheeks—how she lit up. He leaned closer.
“Close your eyes.”
“No, I can’t yet,” she whispered. “I need to see that it’s you.”
“Okay.” He could do this. It wasn’t even that bad. She was pretty and all, and he liked her. He just had to make it good for her. It wasn’t as if he didn’t understand why she needed to do this. “You know you can stop me at any time?”
“I know.”
After a deep, hopefully silent, breath, he leaned down the last few inches and pressed his lips against hers.
oOo
Eliza
Roach’s lips were surprisingly soft. At first, he just kind of moved them a little against mine, so I opened my mouth and carefully stuck out my tongue.
He’d said he wanted it to be a good one, and I was pretty sure a good kiss involved tongue. He seemed to hesitate, but then gently sucked on my tongue and ran the tip of his tongue against mine.
He tasted of the lemon-honey gum and something else, too. Something that was probably him.
Then he tilted my head to the side and opened his mouth wider, and that was when I closed my eyes. For a brief second, I panicked, but gently stroked my fingertips against his beard to feel him.
He had a really sharp jawline, but I’d known that because his beard was always just stubble. His chin was square, and I felt the edges with my thumbs. When I continued up over his cheeks, I felt a dimple, and I’d never actually noticed it before.
I could feel his bottom jaw working when he kept kissing me. Gently opening and closing his mouth, and he played with his lips against mine. That’s when I took notice of his hands on me. How he was gently cupping his hands around my face. I could faintly smell the gun oil, but it wasn’t unpleasant, and even though his hands had some sharp edges to them, they still felt really great.
I ran my own hands farther along his jawline until my fingertips rested against the really soft skin just underneath his ears. The difference of his tickling beard against my palms and the soft skin under his ears felt great, and I opened my mouth wider.
In the few voluntary kisses I’d had before that one, I hadn’t liked how their tongues felt in my mouth, but I liked Roach’s tongue. It wasn’t slimy and he didn’t thrust it into my mouth. It was more as if it was trying to lure or tempt my tongue to touch his, or come out to play or something, which felt awesome.
When I reached farther back, to his neck, his hair felt like the softest velvet against my hand. I held the fingertips of the other hand against his pulse, and along with his soft lips against my lips and gentle tongue in my mouth, it was most definitely the best kiss I’d had. I could almost, far away in the distance, see what sex could be like.
He still had one hand against my cheek, but the other was at my hip. He held it completely still, but it still felt like it was burning hot—in a good way. In general, it all felt good, and I wanted to remember it like that. So I put my hands on his shoulders and took a step back.
Equilibrium: A Marauders Interlude Page 8