by Jordan Marie
He keeps repeating that, and for some reason, I’m glad he thinks so.
33
Beast
“Thank God that is over,” I joke, looking over at Hayden. I don’t mean it. This has been one of the best nights I can remember having in forever, even with the awful movie.
“Oh, come on! Admit it. You loved that movie,” she defends, her face bright, lit up with laughter. Did I really think she was homely at one time?
“There was not one thing anyone could love about that movie, Hayden,” I tell her, making my face completely serious, which is harder than I thought it would be.
“But you had to like it. It’s about your people.”
“My people?” I ask her confused, I should have noticed the sneaky look on her face, but for some reason I didn’t—at least not in time.
“Of course. The caveman has to be like your long lost relative.”
“How do you figure that?” I ask, unable to stop myself.
“Oh, come on. You grunt more than you ever talk,” she laughs, surprising me. I thought she was going to make a remark about my hair or beard.
In response to her assessment, I grunt, which she finds hilarious and laughs so hard, the legs she has pulled up against her front kick out and she throws her head back in laughter. She laughs so hard she does that cute snorting thing again, taking air in loudly. In this moment, she’s everything I wish I was. Happy. Warm. Free.
I force myself to pull away from her because I have the strongest urge to take her in my arms and kiss her. I can’t help but wonder if I kissed her, would I be able to take some of that warmth inside of me? Could Hayden erase some of the cold blackness that has taken over. It’s a fool’s dream. Hell, even if it was possible, I don’t deserve it.
“Going to the bathroom,” I tell her, as I walk away. My voice is gruff, and I notice her laughter stops. I miss it almost instantly. Once I close the door, I lean my head against it and fight against the ache I feel. I haven’t touched a woman…haven’t even wanted one since before Jan died. The few times Jan and I had sex wasn’t worth the time it took. I didn’t like her, I never respected her, and if not for Annabelle, I wouldn’t have taken her back into my bed. I’ve thought about women since, but not enough to act on it. Taking a woman into my bed would mean revealing my scars, it would mean putting myself out there in a world I’m no longer part of. In a world I don’t deserve to take part of.
I know nothing of Hayden. Other than her brother was fucking scum. She has some kind of connection with the Dwellers, and if that isn’t enough, she’s pregnant. She’s the last person in the world I should be thinking about touching.
I stare off to space for a few more minutes, trying to get myself under control, trying to pull those damn walls I have back up around me. Then I get angry with myself for even contemplating this shit. Life is for the living, and I’ve been dead a fuck of a long time. I need to let Hayden know that, and demand she leave me alone.
I march in the living room to do that very thing, but I freeze when I get back in there. She’s lying on the sofa, curled up almost in a ball. Her head is resting on a throw cushion, one hand under her head and another wrapped around the front of her stomach. She’s sound asleep, and despite her growing stomach, she looks so innocent I could almost ache. She can’t sleep on that couch all night. I’m sure I felt springs poking through when I sat there. I lean down to pick her up. Her scent tingles my senses. She smells like cinnamon and vanilla, reminding me of the apple pie she made tonight. I’d like to eat her. Hayden’s body instantly curves into mine, and I feel my fucking cock stretch in interest. I’ve been dead for so long, at first, I’m not even sure what is happening. Then my cock hardens further when Hayden moans slightly before snuggling into me. Jesus, I have a hard-on. What makes it even worse is I want more. I want more even as I hate myself for wanting it.
She moans again, and her fingers dig into my shirt, capturing some of my chest hair in her hold. I ignore how good that feels and take her into her bedroom. I take her to the bed, holding her with one arm while bracing her on my knee. It isn’t hard because Hayden is way too light. She needs to eat more. A strong wind could knock her over. That can’t be good for the baby. I use my free hand to pull down her covers and quickly lay her down.
She’s still wearing her clothes, but they’re loose—she should be fine. I grab the covers and slowly pull them up to her body, stopping once they cover most of her stomach. I rest there, looking at her. Again, completely amazed at how beautiful she truly is. That golden bronze hair shines against her pillow and her face is relaxed in sleep. Right now, I’d be hard pressed to think of anyone prettier.
Then suddenly, my world is rocked even more. I feel movement against my hand that’s still gripping the cover at her waist. I move my hand so my palm lies flat against her stomach and after a second I feel the movement again. The baby. Moving. Kicking. Living. Hayden doesn’t stir, she’s completely out, but the child doesn’t seem to care. I can feel another movement under my hand. It feels as if she’s turning against my hand. Warmth fills me as I savor this connection. Again, I remember the feelings I had at the doctor’s office. This child…Maggie. She will be my purpose. I will be her protector. As if she agrees with me, Maggie kicks again and then goes still. I reluctantly drag my hand away.
The decision has been made.
34
Hayden
It doesn’t make sense but I’ve been sad all day. I wish I knew a reason why. The truth is I’ve been tired ever since I woke up in my own bed this morning and Michael was gone. I forgot how great it felt to spend time with another person and not have to worry—to not be afraid. I don’t have work today, which means I need to be baking. That should be easy, except I burned the last two batches of cookies. At this rate, I’m going to go broke, instead of making money.
I’m peeling apples at the sink, lost in thought when I see the bike pass my house. I can’t tell who it is exactly, but I know that it isn’t Michael. My heart drums in my ears. I could delude myself into thinking this isn’t anything to worry about, but I know better. My hand goes to my stomach. No matter what, I need to protect Maggie. She’s all that matters. I walk to my utility room, grab the shotgun that I keep there. I make sure both barrels are loaded, and I hurry outside before whoever is outside can get a chance to come in. I learned a long time ago that you stand a better chance of surviving if you don’t allow yourself to be trapped. I can run outside. Inside the house, I can be cornered. What’s that old saying? The best defense is offense.
I have my gun aimed and the trigger ready to pull by the time the rider is off his bike. I breathe marginally better when I notice it’s not one of the Dwellers. That’s a good thing, but still I don’t know who this guy is. He turns to look at me, his eyes go to the gun and then back to my face.
“Hey there, darlin’. I’m looking for a big, beefy idiot covered in hair—goes by the name Beast. Wouldn’t happen to know where I can find him, would you?” he questions with an easy smile. He’s good looking, you can’t deny that with soft brown hair. He’s lean, tall, and perfectly groomed. He has on a club cut like Blade and the rest of the Dwellers used to wear. His hair is long too, like Michael’s, maybe even longer—but it’s pretty. On Michael, his hair looks almost animalistic. It’s unkempt, and sometimes I even wonder if he brushes it at all. Yet, it still looks good. On this man, you can tell he spends time on his hair. It looks amazing, but for me at least, nowhere near as appealing as Michael’s. This guy’s hair is prettier than mine.
“Does he know you?” I ask, not ready to tell him where Michael lives. What if this guy is here to cause trouble for him? I admit he looks pretty laid back, but who can tell with a man who pledges his life to a club? Michael says his club was different, but my experiences have jaded me to that possibility.
“He does. You could tell him Diesel is here to see him.”
“She doesn’t have to tell me anything,” Michael grumbles, coming out of the barn. He doe
sn’t look happy to see the man. Of course, I’ve not seen Michael happy to see anyone. “What are you doing here, fuck-wad?” Michael asks, and with that kind of greeting, I’m keeping my gun pointed at the guy.
“Think you might call off the skirt?” Diesel asks, looking over at me.
“I think I’d rather her shoot you. I thought I told Skull I didn’t want to see anyone. The point of me leaving the club was actually leaving the club.”
“Last time I checked motherfucker, I wasn’t part of your club, and I’m not here for them.”
“Then why the fuck are you here?” Michael asks.
The man looks back at me, pointedly staring at the gun. Then, his eyes travel back to Michael as he folds his hands at his chest, leans back on his bike and waits.
“Hayden, put the gun down. This asshole isn’t worth the lead in the bullet,” he says, and I slowly bring the gun down.
“Just as sweet as ever I see,” the man jokes and Michael flips him off.
“I don’t want company,” Michael says again.
“Better get used to it. I’m not alone,” he says, Michael gives him a look and the man shrugs.
“Crusher and Dani are with me.”
“Motherfucker.”
“Does the heart good to feel so wanted,” the man says, looking over at me and winking.
I wait for a minute or two to see if Michael invites me to stay around. He doesn’t and for some reason that makes me more than a little sad, which is crazy. I don’t like being around people, Michael is the rare exception. He makes me smile and feel safe. He’s like Liese, Charlie, and to some extent Pastor Sturgill. People I don’t feel pressured around. People who I care about and trust. I mean, not that I care about Michael—other than as a friend. When the two men shake hands, I take that as my cue to leave. I turn and go back to the door. I’ve almost got it closed when Michael calls out.
“Hayden?” My head jerks up with a smile, and I swear I think I feel excitement. Is he going to invite me to join them? Maybe I could invite the two of them over for coffee. I made some puff pastries and they’re pretty good. I could give them some food while they talked. It’d be nice to have company while I worked in the kitchen. “Thanks for looking out for me,” Michael adds, dismissing me. I give him another smile, before I close the door. After shutting it, I lay my head against it as that feeling of disappointment hits me again. What is going on with me?
35
Beast
“Want to tell me what you’re here for?”
“Can’t I just want to see that pretty face of yours?” Diesel asks, when we finally get under the parking area of the barn loft. I haven’t invited him up, because I don’t really want him in my space. What I really want is for him to turn around, leave, and never come back. However, I don’t think I’m going to get my wish.
“You’re wasting my time,” I warn him, my voice betraying my aggravation. I have things planned for today. Things I don’t want Diesel watching. I’m done with the fucking life. I’m done with these people. I know that makes me a dick, but it just is what it is. I don’t know how to make it any clearer.
“You’re just a cheerful fucking bastard, aren’t you? How in Hell did you ever get that pretty little thing next door to care about you?”
“It’s not like that, but Hayden is none of your concern.”
“Hayden, is it? Pretty name. Unusual. It fits her. I take it that’s not your bun occupying her oven,” he says, looking between me and the open door with stairs, as if waiting for me to invite him up. He can just keep waiting. That shit is not going to happen.
“Hayden is none of your concern.”
“Hey if you’re…”
I hold my hand up. “Stop what you’re saying,” I tell him. Suddenly tired, I rub the back of my neck and let out a sigh, deciding just to give him the truth. “Hayden is Pistol’s sister.”
“Fuck. She’s knocked up?” he asks, and I don’t bother replying, there’s really nothing to say.
“Why are you here?” I ask him again, anxious to get this over with.
Diesel brings his eyes back to me. He seems to study me for a bit, and I know he has something to tell me. I had hoped this was a simple visit, with just some old friends butting in where they were no longer wanted. Suddenly, I got the feeling that this is not what this is. Not at all. “Shadow Dwellers have been asking about you. Did you tell these fucks you weren’t part of the Blaze anymore?”
“Wasn’t trying to keep that shit a secret, Diesel. It’s the fucking truth.”
“You know as well as I do that the Dwellers aren’t the fuckers to admit that shit to. Do you think they wouldn’t love to fuck with you—or worse, in an effort to get back at Skull or fuck, even Cade?”
“I have nothing to do with Cade.”
“You’re part of the same club, even if he is over the Florida chapter. Besides, Cade and the Dwellers fucking hate each other. You know that. You show up here with your history and tell Blade and his crew you’re no long part of the club…Shit. It’s like waving a red flag in front of a fucking bull—and ese’ that bull is already charging full steam ahead.”
“I told you I couldn’t give a fuck. They want to try to tangle with me, I’ll deal with it. I’ll deal with it alone.”
“The fuck you will. Just because you got your head in your ass, doesn’t mean the rest of us do. You’re a brother and once a brother, always a brother. The. Fucking. End.”
“Last time I checked you aren’t even part of the Blaze.”
“Don’t hand me that bullshit. You know my loyalty and my club is always with the Savage crew first, but we stand with the Blaze. You are part of the Blaze. Just because you’re being a fucking prick, that doesn’t mean that shit stops.”
“Beast!” I hear Dani cry, jerking my attention away from Diesel. It’s a welcome reprieve. I was just about to lay into the son of a bitch, and I’d rather not. I like Diesel. I respect the motherfucker, but he doesn’t have clue one on the shit I’m going through. Dani comes running towards me, and I open my arms instinctively, she runs into them and hugs me tightly, despite her man’s growl of dislike.
Crusher seems like a good man. I haven’t dealt with him that much. He’s a straight shooter I can respect, and he treats Dani good, which makes me half-way like the asshole.
“Hey there, hummingbird,” I greet her, talking into her ear, my fingers wrapping into her dark hair as I hold her close.
“Every time you call her that, I have to resist the urge to plant my boot into your fucking balls and grind them into dust,” Crusher growls.
I ignore him. Dani and I have a connection that started before the two of them ever got together. She’s a good woman. If I were still a whole man, I might have been the one in her life now. But I’m not whole. I’m not even half a man on most days. Dani’s had a fucked up past. She understands, and I probably understand her more than anyone else ever will. Seeing her find a point in her life where she’s happy? That means a fuck of a lot to me.
“Missed you, you big lug,” Dani laughs, giving me one last squeeze before I put her down.
“It’s going to rain, I wasn’t going to invite these assholes up, but since you’re here, let’s move this party upstairs,” I tell them—mostly to Dani. She stays close to my side. Crusher growls as he looks at us, but Dani being Dani, she sticks her tongue out at him.
“Jesus Christ, how I ever got my balls owned by such a sour woman,” he grumbles, but you can see by his eyes, he’s completely in love with her.
I know she feels the same. Maybe that ability—the ability to love is what finally healed her. I’m not sure I ever had that ability with anyone except Annabelle, and it surely won’t ever happen again.
Diesel takes off up the stairs with the three of us following him. I keep my hand on Dani’s shoulders and just before I let her go to walk in front of me, I look over her head in the direction of Hayden’s house. I wanted to spend the morning with her, so I could make sure she ate good
. Just another reason to be pissed at Diesel.
Crusher takes his moment to get between me and his woman. He puts his hand on her ass and follows her up the stairs. His hold is one of ownership. I could tell him he has nothing to worry about in me, but I know he wouldn’t listen.
I follow them all up the stairs, wondering how long it will take me to get rid of them.
36
Hayden
“What the fuck are you doing, Hayden?” I hear Michael growl. My head jerks up to look over the top of my car, the evening sun is starting to set and there’s a glare that has me shielding my eyes.
Michael is standing by his barn, talking to his guests. The man with the hair is on his bike now and there’s a woman standing by Michael with another man beside her. She’s beautiful. Tall, skinny, with dark hair that shines and is silky smooth. She’s everything I’m not, and I can tell by the arm that Michael has close to her, she’s special to him. The man beside her is pretty spectacular too, his hair dark and cut short, covered in tattoos and definitely territorial about the woman. You can tell that just from his posture. Do they share her? I’m not stupid to the life of a club member. It wouldn’t surprise me. For some reason, it does disappoint me.
“What?” I ask, putting one load of my food into the backseat of my car. There’s at least three more inside. I’m running late…burning cookies did not figure into my time management plan.
“What are you doing carrying…that shit out by yourself?” he asks, and he has to break about halfway through the sentence to get it all out when his voice cracks—but then, he’s yelling.
“Um…the same as I always do?” I tell him rhetorically, not sure what he’s getting at and shaking my head because he’s acting crazily. I turn away from him and his guests to go back in my house, dismissing him from my mind. I’m in the kitchen loading up my second batch when Michael comes storming in with the hair-shampoo-for-men cover model, the other guy, and all of them are followed by the girl—who stands by the door. I freeze. My breath stalls in my chest, and I feel the panic literally crawling up my back. My kitchen is small. I’m trapped with three men and only one of those do I partially trust. I don’t have my gun and there’s someone standing between me and the door.