by Jordan Marie
Michael finishes his phone conversation, while standing at the foot of his truck, leaning into the tailgate. His head his down so I can’t see his face. His dark hair has spilled forward, covering him and what it doesn’t hide his beard hides the rest. He’s dressed all in black. I remember Pastor Sturgill’s remark yet again about Michael being an archangel. Right now, he looks like a fallen angel and he shouldn’t look as good as he does to me…
But he does.
44
Beast
I couldn’t tell her that this was the work of the Dwellers. I knew that would bring fear in her eyes—maybe even another panic attack. I couldn’t do it. I’ll deal with this on my own and make sure this doesn’t touch her. I was terrified thinking they were using me to get to her. That was one emotion I never thought I’d feel again. I’ve been so dead inside, I didn’t think it was possible. It’s further proof that Hayden is getting too close.
I almost kissed her a minute ago. The urge to take her lips was there, and for a second, I leaned into her and almost captured her mouth with mine. I wanted to taste her lips so damn bad. That would have been insanity. I don’t know what Hayden has been through, but it’s pretty clear it has traumatized her and given who is involved, I’m positive it was bad. Kissing her would have probably sent her running away and screaming.
On top of that…I ruin everything I touch. I’ve failed at the single most important purpose I had in life. I let the one person in my life who has ever loved me—who I ever loved, down. I can’t get close to Hayden. I’d end up just destroying her too. Lucy wasn’t wrong with her childish words. I am an animal. I’ve become the monster my brothers always said I looked like when they gave me my road name. A beast.
“Michael! What did you do?” Hayden cries as I make it to her, carrying the first box.
“Open the door, Hayden. It’s heavy,” I tell her, mostly lying. It’s heavy, but fuck I bench press double this weight without a sweat. I just don’t feel like fending off her questions. She opens the door, and I don’t look at her. It’s stupid, but I don’t want to see her face. I didn’t do it for gratitude. I don’t want that from Hayden. I’m not sure what I want from Hayden, but that’s not it. I didn’t do this for her. I did this for Maggie. She’s the reason I’m still here. I reasoned all that out. I can’t ignore the small voice inside of me that if the Dwellers are making a move then Hayden needs me too. I can’t let myself think about that.
I lean the box for the crib up against the wall in her nursery. Then I head back outside, all without looking at Hayden. I bring in the changing table, the lady said was a must. I don’t get it. I changed Annabelle on the couch just fine, sometimes on the bed, and fuck even the floor. I never had a problem. I didn’t even know there was a table. Seems as unhandy as fuck to me. Women like to make everything complicated. I place it against the crib box and go back out. Still not looking at Hayden. I’m avoiding looking at her and she’s gone completely silent. I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. I make a couple more trips. These pieces are already together and covered in blankets. There’s a glider with footstool that’s black to match the rest of the furniture. And a dresser that’s made to match the crib and table. There’s also a small nightstand that goes by the glider. The bassinet was all I meant to buy. It’s there. Maggie shouldn’t have a broken one. This one is white with yellow ribbon accents. Next is a box of cushions and pads for the changing table, and the glider. All with pale yellow covers to match the design that Hayden has fixed on the walls. A crib mattress, a lamp with an elephant wearing a yellow tutu that for some fucking reason made me smile, and I had the woman add it to my purchases, different sheets and finally bedding that was as close as I could find to something Hayden would want. Hayden might bitch, but I figure all of those things Maggie needs.
When I get the last box inside, I set it in her living room, because half way into unpacking I discovered there wasn’t enough room to move in the nursery or hall until I got things put together and the old furniture gone. Then, left out of excuses or reasons not to, I look at Hayden. What I seen on her face isn’t what I expected. There’s no gratitude or even coy bullshit women do when they think they have you over a barrel. It’s…anger.
Fucking women never react like you think they will.
45
Hayden
He brings in box after box of things for Maggie. Each time he does, he doesn’t talk or even look at me. Each time he does, my disbelief grows. I run through so many different emotions, I get dizzy. There’s too many to grasp all of them, so I hold onto the one that I can identify the easiest.
“You have to take them back,” I tell Michael, when he finally looks at me. In response, he gives me a grunt. “I’m serious, Michael. They have to go back. I can’t keep them.”
“The fuck you can’t,” he grumbles, turning away from me and going back into the nursery. I watch from the door as he grabs the broken bassinet and begins walking towards me.
“What are you doing now?” I gasp, literally blocking the doorway.
“Making room in here so I can start putting the furniture together, while I’m waiting on the tow truck. Then I’ll go do some business, and come back this evening to finish putting everything together,” his dark voice rumbles.
“But I’m using that bassinet to put the baby in my room until she gets older!” I cry, feeling completely out of my depth.
Michael makes a noise that is not really his trademark grunt, it starts that way but then spreads into a rumbly growl. He places the basinet back down, and he looks at me. He’s standing right in front of me, his head bent down to stare at me. I stretch my neck up, so I can stare right back. I should be scared—especially with my history and the mean look this huge man is giving me. I can’t explain why I’m not. I can’t even explain how I know in my heart that Michael would never willingly hurt me…but I do. Standing here going toe to toe with him seems natural.
“I bought a bassinet,” he mutters, in the same deep, husky tone as his growl.
“I can’t pay for it! I can’t pay for any of this stuff! You have to take it back!”
“I paid for it,” he says, leaning further down. Remarkably, I don’t back up, I don’t even think, I act.
“Then go get your money back,” I tell him, pushing my finger into his chest for emphasis.
“No.” he breathes an exaggerated sigh, straightening back up and pushing his hair from his face.
“No? You can’t say no.”
“I just did.” he’s back to the rumbly growl, his brow crinkled up in clear irritation.
“Michael,” I start again, but our attention is diverted when you can hear a large vehicle outside. I can’t see it but from the noise, you can tell it’s big, because it’s loud and there’s that large air sound and squeaking like the vehicle has air brakes, like those used on big rigs.
“Hayden if you don’t want the fucking furniture then I’ll throw it out when I get back and burn it. I’m not asking for my money back. I’ll get rid of the shit when I get back,” he mutters, his voice cracking, but not as much this time as it usually does. Maybe because he’s talking in a lower tone?
“You’ll burn it?”
“If you don’t want it, yeah,” he says, his eyes going back to the doorway I’m standing in front of, when a horn blows. “Can you move so I can get out the door? That’s probably the tow truck out there,” he says, rubbing his beard around his chin, his forehead scrunched up.
“You are just going to burn all of it?”
“If you don’t want it.”
“That makes no sense, Michael. Why would you just burn it?”
“Jesus, Hayden. Let me through. I just wanted Maggie to have the best. She deserves that and with all the work you put in fixing the room, I could tell you wanted it. I’m sorry I bothered now,” he growls and this isn’t a rumbly growl. It’s a growl I’m pretty sure would cause tigers to cower in the corner, afraid to move. Then, he puts his hands on my upper arms and
picks me up, effectively moving me out of the doorway. He puts me down, out in the hall and turns to leave. I put my hand out without thinking about it, grabbing his shirt in my fist. I stumble when he moves, but he stops when he feels my weak pull on him. “What now?” he asks and this time, I can tell he’s exasperated with me past the point where he’s even trying to contain it. Still, for some reason I’m not scared.
“Could you bend down here, please? Just for a second?” He frowns, but does as I ask. Before I can second guess myself, or my need to do it. I reach up on my tip toes, bracing myself on his massive chest and lean up and kiss him on the lips. His beard tickles, and it’s just a quick peck. To be honest if I hadn’t felt the soft give and tasted the faint minty flavor of toothpaste, I wouldn’t have been sure I touched his lips. “Thank you, Michael. I’m sorry I reacted badly. I’m just…I’m not used to someone being so nice. Thank you for caring about Maggie,” I tell him.
When he says nothing, I start to feel even more awkward. I look at my hands to realize I’m still bracing myself on his chest. I let go immediately and step away. Michael continues to stare at me for what seems like forever, but in reality, is probably shorter than a minute. The horn outside blares again, and Michael continues to stare. Then he shakes his head, grunts and leaves, slamming the door behind him.
Only when he leaves do I take my hand and rub it against my lips, wondering if maybe, just maybe, I’ve lost my mind. It was a peck. A thank you, but Michael clearly thought it was weird. Maybe I should have only hugged him? Or even better, maybe shook his hand? I shrug it off and go back into the kitchen. I have work I need to do.
46
Beast
“I need a favor,” I tell Skull, when he picks up the phone.
In response, he lets off with a trail of curse words. Most are in Spanish, but I’ve been around him enough to know what they are. I hold the phone out from my ear until there’s nothing but silence.
“Are you finished?
“No. I am not done, you shithead! Why haven’t you been picking up your goddamn phone?”
“Because I didn’t want to talk.”
“You didn’t want to talk?” he mutters, and I sigh.
I should have called Diesel. I’m standing by my bike. Trying to figure out for the hundredth time why Hayden…kissed me. She kissed me. What the fuck did she do that for?
“No quieres hablar,” Skull mutters, and I growl.
“Quit busting my fucking balls. Either you will help or you won’t. Which is it.”
“I’ve been trying to help you, estúpido. You haven’t picked up the fucking phone!” he yells, and I mostly ignore him. Looking out at Hayden’s house and seeing her move through the kitchen window. She kissed me.
“What are you talking about?”
“Motherfucker, you told Blade that the Devil’s Blaze had no interest in Whitley! You told him you weren’t under our protection!” Skull yells and fuck, if he doesn’t stop yelling he’s going to stroke out. He’s that worked up.
“It’s the truth. Now are you going to help me, or do I need to check with someone else.”
“It’s not the truth motherfucker. I’ve had Hayden under our protection. I put a call into Cade and he brokered a deal with the Torasani family. Your little declaration to Blade has fucked shit up.”
“Why does Hayden need protection?” I growl.
“Because I found out a little over three months ago they beat the fuck out of her and left her for dead. I may not owe shit to Pistol, but fuck, maybe if I had checked on the bitch earlier—” Skull trails off, but the message is clear. He’s feeling guilty, but his words leave me confused.
“The preacher mentioned her being beaten. He acted like her brother fixed her up with this place and shit. Diesel figures Pistol had a will or something,” I answer, my eyes glued to the house.
“Fuck, Pistol had nothing. That fucker is the one that sold her out to the Dwellers, then when he decided to change his mind it was too late. They used her as leverage over him.”
“The Dwellers?”
“Yeah, just one of the snakes Viper and those fucking Donahues climbed into bed with.”
“Motherfucker.”
“I put a call out to Cade and he may not be kin to Hayden because she was Pistol’s half-sister, but he still agreed to make sure she was protected. He called some markers into the Torasani’s. Blade found out she was pregnant, and demanded her back, but he’s scared enough of us and the Torasani’s he hasn’t made a move. You going in like a fucking asshole declaring we have no interest there, causes a bunch of fucking headaches,” Skull growls.
I take a deep breath and go over everything Skull just said. Cade is the President of the Florida chapter of the Blaze. He’s a good guy even if he shares a mother with Pistol. If Skull says Hayden’s not kin to Cade that must mean Hayden’s father and Pistol’s is the same. He was a slimy motherfucker, maybe even worse than Pistol. It’s hard for me to believe Hayden shares their blood at all. Holding my head down, I rub my forehead, feeling a migraine starting to form.
“A couple of Blade’s goons ran me off the road today. They had me in their sites, but didn’t take me out.”
“A message.”
“I figure. I want all the intel you can find on the Dwellers Compound. I’m going to pay Blade a visit.”
“The fuck you will. You aren’t going without backup.”
“I don’t need backup to deal with these motherfuckers.”
“I’ll have a meeting set up and you will have some of our men with you. That’s non-negotiable.”
“No fucking way.”
“This ain’t for you to decide this time motherfucker. I don’t want these assholes getting brave and going after the girl.”
“What’s she to you?” I ask him, even if I do agree with him.
“Responsibility. I should have sent someone after her when Pistol first told me about her.”
I think on all the hell that Hayden undoubtedly went through under the Dwellers. I remember her panic attack and the sadness that I see on her face sometimes, and I have to agree with him. It goes against everything I am to agree to let Skull set up a meeting. If it was just me involved I would fucking shut it down at once. It’s not just me. I need to protect Hayden and her daughter.
“Set up the meeting. I want it soon,” I growl, finally agreeing.
“I’ll be in touch. You just make sure to answer your fucking phone,” Skull orders, and I disconnect on a grunt. I put my phone back in my pocket and then I march back over to Hayden’s. I need to know what the hell she was thinking. She kissed me.
47
Hayden
“You kissed me,” Michael says, and I turn around from the stove. I place the hot cookie sheet full of my peanut butter kisses on the stove top and turn to look at him.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“You kissed me,” he repeats, standing there, his face unreadable, his hands at his side.
“It was just a friendly kiss,” I answer him, confused. He’s been in the baby’s room for the last hour working. I tried to help at first and talk to him, but I got tired of being ignored and not even getting a grunt, so I came out here to bake and fix dinner. “Dinner is ready if you’re hungry,” I tell him, shaking my head and turning back around. “It’s nothing special. I just threw together a quick chicken casserole, but if you’re hung—” I stop on a gasp as he spins me around. “What’s wrong?”
“Why did you kiss me?”
“Michael, seriously. Do you have some aversion to being touched? I won’t do it again. You were just being sweet, and I had made a mess of everything, and I was grateful. We’re friends. I thought it was okay. It won’t happen again.”
“So, you kiss all your friends?” he asks, his tone disbelieving, his arms folded against each other at his chest. His eyes clearly say I’m crazy, but I’m starting to think he’s the crazy one here.
“I’ve kissed Charlie, yeah, though I guess not on the lips.
Yet, in my defense Michael, you’re really...” I trail off not sure how to finish that won’t make him feel insulted.
“Really what?” he prods, sitting down at the table.
The change in his position gives me something to do, while I try to figure out how not to hurt the big guy’s feelings. I move to the stove, taking a plate from the cabinet and dish him some of the casserole. I take it to his plate and then pour him a glass of the homemade lemonade I made earlier. I still think it’s a strange drink for him, but whatever.
“Really what?” he prompts me, again.
I sigh as I fix my own plate, grab a bottle of water, and sit down across from him. I’m not hungry, but I like having someone to sit at the table and eat with me. I’ve never had that.
“Hayden,” he mutters warningly, when I still remain quiet.
I move my fork around the casserole and when nothing comes to mind on how to be more delicate, I give up.
“You’re really, hairy.” Michael stops with his fork almost to his mouth to look at me. I was afraid I insulted him, but when he looks at me, he looks more stunned. I think I shocked him. Though, I have no idea how. It can’t have escaped his notice that he’s hairy. If he was a girl I’d call him Rapunzel even…well except for the beard…though I guess some women do have beards. I’ve seen a few. I don’t get it. I’d wax, shave, pluck—whatever I had to do.
“You kissed me because I’m…hairy?”
“Well, I mean, I kiss Charlie on the cheek. To do that with you I’d have had to kiss mounds of hair and still not be sure I was in the right spot. As it was, I had to guess where your lips are.”