by Jordan Marie
“Drag his ass out of here and get him patched up while he’s still breathing. Any of you set foot in my place again, I won’t be as forgiving, and you can bet that Victor Torasani will hear about the shit you pulled today,” Charlie warns them.
I file away the knowledge that she seems to know the head of the Torasani family as I finally make it to Hayden.
53
Hayden
I can feel Michael’s arms go around me. Slowly the heat of his body surrounds me. I’ve panicked again, though at least it’s not as deep as I normally go. I feel Michael stroking my hair. His rough fingers somehow gently wrap around my ponytail. His other hand has captured one of mine and his thumb is brushing back and forth across the top of my wrist. I concentrate on that as I let the shudders slowly leave my body and try to control my breathing.
“Come back to me, Beauty. Don’t let them drag you back there. You’re safe. I’m keeping you safe. Nothing will touch you and Maggie again,” I hear Michael whispering in my ear. He keeps repeating the same things over and over, so softly I have to strain to hear them over the way my pulse is pounding in my ears. But, I concentrate on the words. I take them in. I hear his conviction, and I know he means them.
Maybe it’s weak to look to someone to save me, but right now it feels like a miracle. I let the tension leave my body as I collapse against him with a sob. I wrap my arms around him.
“That’s it, come back to me,” he whispers, his voice hoarse and cracking.
I don’t tell him, because saying the words out loud would terrify me, but I’m pretty sure as long as he wanted me to, I’d always come back to him.
I feel him lift me up in his arms and he walks me to a chair and sits down. I go to move off him, but he doesn’t let me. I don’t fight him too hard. I feel safest when he’s around.
“I’m okay,” I tell him, or maybe even myself. I can’t be sure.
“I know you are, sweetheart,” he whispers, and I can’t decide which is better. The sound of his heart beating when I’m pressed against his chest, or his voice talking to me so tenderly.
I’ve never had that. Nothing has ever been sweet in my life. Michael gives me glimpses of sweet and I can’t help but want more.
“Did they leave?”
“Yeah, they headed out. Fools. I don’t know what’s got them acting so damned brave all at once. Victor has been letting too much slip by. I’ll call him tonight,” Charlie answers.
“You need to make sure you keep that gun close,” Michael warns her. “Do you have law here you can trust?”
“I’ve got it taken care of,” she says cryptically. “You just need to take care of our girl here. How are you doing, cupcake?”
“I’m sorry, Charlie,” I tell her, feeling like an idiot and hating myself for bringing all of this to her doorstep.
“Nothing to be sorry for, sweet girl. That bunch is a plague. They’re nothing but cockroaches. Unfortunately, cockroaches seem to survive no matter what you do to kill them.”
“That’s what you think,” Michael growls.
“Michael, you can’t go up against Blade and his men,” I tell him, fear laced in my words.
“Why in the fuck not?”
“I don’t want you to get hurt—especially not because of me,” I tell him, pulling back enough so that I can look into his eyes. Curving my hand along the side of his face, low around his chin and jawbone, I allow my fingers to slightly curl into his beard. “I couldn’t handle it if they hurt you.”
“Fuck,” he growls and my forehead scrunches up in confusion. Before I can talk to him further, he stands up. I move my hands around his neck to hold on, since it becomes clear, even when I try, that he’s not letting me down. “Charlie, make sure you stay safe,” he warns. “They may try to come back.”
“You do the same and keep our girl safe,” she orders back, as we go out the door.
“I’ve got her,” Michael grumbles, though not to Charlie because we’re outside.
I have questions in my head, but I don’t know what I want to ask, so I remain silent as he puts me in his truck and buckles me in. Even when he leans up from connecting my seatbelt and stops to look me in the eyes, I remain silent. When his ink-covered, scarred hand comes up to my face and this thumb brushes against my temple, I’m still silent. When his lips briefly touch my forehead, I keep quiet. Mostly, I don’t know what to say. Yet, there’s a part of me wondering why he kissed my forehead and not my lips.
I really wish he’d kissed my lips.
54
Beast
The road to Hell is paved with good intentions. I needed to keep Hayden at arm’s length. I failed. I wanted to protect her and her child and somehow, I’ve let Hayden get to me. I can admit it, what I can’t figure out is how to stop it. Being around Hayden is like standing in quicksand, and I’m slowly sinking, the more I struggle the deeper I get pulled in.
I look down at her sleeping form and barely restrain a growl. Today was messed up. I can’t believe those fuckers thought it was okay to come at Hayden like that. Not if they’d been leaving her alone all this time. It has to be more than me showing up in the town. I’ve called Skull and Diesel and swallowed my pride enough to have them looking into it. Skull mentioned sending some men down as back-up. I don’t want that, but if this shit keeps up, I may not have a choice. I had Skull send a shout out to Cade and one to the Torasani clan. Maybe if I can talk to both of them, I might get better protection for Hayden and Maggie. It’s old school but nothing rings quite as true as the old adage, “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” I definitely need some friends in this damn town if I’m going to make sure Hayden is safe. I shouldn’t do it, but I find myself crawling on the bed behind her. Wrapping my arm around her stomach, spooning her, and pulling her into me. I bury my face into the back of her neck breathing in the strawberry scent of her shampoo.
“You’re still here,” she whispers.
I have the room dark, shades pulled on the window, but it’s barely dusk outside. The street light out front has just started buzzing, I can hear it through the window.
“I told you I wouldn’t leave.”
“It might be better if you did Michael. I’m trouble. I thought Blade had given up, but he won’t stop. I know that now.”
“Why do you say that?” I ask her, but I’m sure she’s right. The Blade I saw today had blood in his eyes. He wants to punish Hayden. I could see it. She’s going to have to tell me more about their past. I’ll talk with her about it soon, but not right now. She’s definitely had enough today.
“He said that horrible word…about Maggie. He referred to her as…”
“Don’t say it,” I growl, still hating that word that is only used by sad-sacks with shit for brains.
“But how would he know she’s a girl? I mean even the doctor hasn’t confirmed it. Why would he refer to her as a girl at all?” she whispers, her voice wobbling. She may have beat the panic attack, but the fear is still there. I want to be the one to get rid of that for her. Ain’t that just another bucket of fuck. She’s smart—even in fear. I didn’t catch that. Very few people would know Hayden has proclaimed Maggie a girl. That means Blade has been watching her constantly. He has someone on the inside getting him the information, he has to.
“Who have you mentioned Maggie too?”
“I don’t talk to hardly anyone, though I guess anyone coming in to eat at the diner might have heard me. I can’t trust anyone now, can I?” she whispers, and I can hear the pain inside of her at the thought. Her body tightens, and I kiss her shoulder in response.
“You can trust me.”
“Michael…”
“I’ve got this, Hayden. I won’t fail again. You don’t need to worry,” I tell her, without thinking, only wanting her to stop worrying.
Nothing else is said for a bit. Her breathing has evened out, and I think maybe she has fallen asleep. I should get up from here, though the temptation to stay with her is strong. That’s when I feel her
fingers wrap around mine and she pulls our joined hands tighter so they rest above her stomach, just under the curve of her breast. I look up at the ceiling, trying to beat down the urge to rub my arm against the underswell. I can feel my dick—the dick I thought was mostly dead, begin to lengthen. Shit. I feel her fingers from her other hand dance across my skin. I used to hate being touched. It’s the one thing I forbid after I got out of the hospital, even after the burns healed leaving scars in their wake. Hayden’s touch I could easily begin to crave. It’s a soft whisper, gentle and sweet, which is seductive and yet somehow clean and natural. God what I wouldn’t give to feel clean. To feel…normal.
“You have so many tattoos,” she whispers, changing the subject and surprising me completely. I thought she would talk about my scars. My ink was the last thing I thought she would notice. She brings her fingers against my upper arm, right before you get to the elbow. The room is dark, but there’s a faint light shining from the adjoining bathroom. It’s enough that I’m sure she can see…and read. She rolls over on her back. I have the strongest urge to pull my hand away. I don’t know why I don’t. For some reason, I stay right there—like an idiot. “Who is Annabelle?” she asks, and I don’t want to talk about it. I’m not sure I can.
“Someone I lost,” I tell her, and even I can hear the sadness that permeates every syllable of my answer.
“Why did you put stars by her name?” I shouldn’t answer. Hayden is doing it again. She’s getting inside of my head. Getting me to feel…and getting way too close to me. But like a fool, I find myself telling her.
“She used to curl up in my lap at night. We’d look up at the sky and count the stars and she’d find the one she thought was the prettiest to wish upon.”
“What did she wish for?”
“Most times she wouldn’t tell me, because—”
“Then it wouldn’t come true,” Hayden finishes, and if my heart didn’t feel like it was being squeezed in half, I’d smile, because that’s just what Annabelle would say.
“Yeah,” I tell Hayden, clearing my throat which is so tight with emotion I feel like I’m choking. “Sometimes she would tell me she wanted a white horse with wings so she could ride into the stars and touch them,” I tell her, my eyes closing tight at the memory of my sweet baby girl. Her blonde hair brushed until it shines, it falls back across my arm, as she looks up at me. Her beautiful blue eyes wide with happiness, and her voice full of excitement and love. Annabelle was always so full of love. “I don’t have much stock in God. He and I have pretty much parted ways, but I hope he’s letting my Annabelle touch the stars now,” I murmur, not really to Hayden. No. Now, I’m lost in the memories. I feel like I’m bleeding from a wound I can never find and one that never heals. I can’t let them all out. Not now. Especially not in front of Hayden. Annabelle is a part of me that no one will see. I fight to keep away from the pain, from the memories that want to engulf me.
“Maybe she’s the one who decides just where the stars go now,” Hayden whispers, and she pulls my hand up and kisses it. “I know God is watching out for her.”
“How do you know,” I have to stop to catch my breath. “How do you know that?” I ask, and I hear the desperation in my voice. I need her to tell me my daughter is okay now. I need her to make me believe that she lives on…somewhere…anywhere.
“Someone that special? God would have to make sure she is always happy.”
“Special?” I ask, because I know. God! I know my Annabelle was special. But, I need to know why Hayden believes it. Through all of this I’ve received pity…pats on the back from people who were supposed to be my family, but they don’t understand. Their lives went on. They have their kids, their wives, and their life. They’re not lost in the darkness. They aren’t drowning in memories so filled with pain that they consume you. Memories that rot you on the inside, making it hurt to fucking move. They don’t even remember Annabelle unless I come around and only then they do, but only because they see what her loss has done to me.
I need Hayden to believe in Annabelle. Not because she wants me to feel better, but because in her heart she believes what she’s telling me. I need someone to tell me without a doubt that Annabelle lives on…happily.
I feel silent tears falling from my eyes, escaping even though I’m closing my eyes tight, and tighter still as Annabelle’s face floats across my mind. Her bright, laughing voice yelling out, “Daddy!” as I tickle her. Her sweet voice, so distant…I want to grasp it and hold onto it, but I can’t seem to.
“She had to be special to have someone like you love her so deeply. She was a lucky woman,” Hayden says, her small fingers curling back into mine. She gives up on my tattoo, and holds my hand. She lays there, not having any idea that she just ripped my heart open.
She just lays there leaving me hoping with everything left inside of me that she’s right, and my Annabelle is playing with the stars...
55
Hayden
I come awake slowly, with the sound of rain hitting against the window pane. I’m warm. So warm. I move to stretch and it’s then I notice that my hand is wrapped around something—or rather someone else’s hand. Michael. It’s then I become more alert. I’m not sure how I missed it before. The reason I am so warm is because Michael’s body is pressed against me, his legs are wrapped in mine, and his arm is lying over my stomach, our hands intertwined; he’s pulled me up far enough that his face is buried into the back of my neck. I know, because I can feel his breath against my skin.
For a minute, I just keep my eyes closed and take this in. This feeling of joy, of contentment, floods through me and with it is a feeling I’ve never experienced at any point in my life. Safety. Even after yesterday, right now in this moment I feel nothing but safe. I drink it in, and without realizing it my thumb has started moving back and forth along the largest scar on Michael’s hand. It’s the strangest thing to try and describe, but somehow brushing against that scar, brings me…peace. It’s a symbol that this man has endured some of his own nightmares and yet here he is, strong, giving, and dependable. He goes against everything I’ve encountered in my life.
“Morning,” he says, his voice gruff enough that it does something to me and little shivers seem to vibrate through my body like sparks. He pulls away, and like a fool, I try to hold his hand as he rolls over onto his back. I let go reluctantly and ignore the heat I can feel spreading across my face.
I move my tongue over my lips as I move to my back too. My mouth suddenly feels dry and nerves begin to attack me. Then a horrible thought comes to mind. Morning breath. I sit up, turning to get off the bed. Michael’s hand lands on my shoulder and I can’t stop myself from jumping slightly.
“Where you going?” he asks, and it’s hard to concentrate on his words when the heat from his hand feels as if it’s going under my skin and maybe even warming parts of me I didn’t know were cold.
“I uh…thought I should clean up…and maybe fix breakfast and…”
“Are you nervous, Hayden?” he asks, and I’m not looking at him, but I think I can hear laughter in his voice. If I turned around to see him, would he be smiling? I sigh loudly.
“Yes.” The strangest thing happens when I admit it to him. Michael laughs. It’s rusty, and I can barely hear it. He kind of coughs and laughs, but still…it is a quiet laugh and it shocks me so much that I turn a little so I can look at him over my shoulder.
He removes his hand from my shoulder, and I instantly miss it. “Why are you nervous?”
“Because you’re…”
“What?” he asks, his forehead crinkling so that deep lines appear. I can see them peeking through his hair.
On instinct, I reach up to brush hair out of the way.
“Well…you,” I answer him, enjoying the feel of his hair between my fingers before I let go and watch the stubborn, wavy tendrils fall back. “You have too much hair. I can’t see your face,” I tell him without thinking, and when I see the look that comes over him, I’m sorry
I mentioned it. “I’ll just go clean up,” I tell him, nervously.
In response, he grunts.
I’m acting too strange around him. Ever since that kiss, I have no idea how to act or be around Michael. He asked if I was nervous? He has no freaking clue.
I get the distinct impression that I’ve managed to offend him talking about his hair, and I have this huge urge to beg him to forgive me. The only thing that stops me is I’m pretty sure I’d make a bigger fool of myself. I go into the bathroom and close the door, wondering if I’ll ever be normal.
56
Beast
Fucking hell. It should not be this hard to be around a woman. Before…before I had women falling at my feet. I barely had to talk to one. Now I don’t know what to say to one when she makes a comment about not being able to see my face. I’m pretty sure I hurt her feelings and that’s the last thing I wanted. Shit. Why not just call a spade a spade? The truth is that for the first time in years I want to stick my dick in a woman. I don’t know why it’s happening and more importantly, I resent that it’s happening.
Of all the women in the world my dick had to come back to life for, it had to be Hayden. A pregnant woman with a world of trouble and eyes that beg for forever should not be where I plant my dick. But, I’m drawn to her in ways I can’t explain. I want her as I’ve never wanted another woman, and apparently, she’s going to be the only woman to get a rise out of my dick right now. I thought after Jan, I would have fucking wised up when it came to women. Apparently, I thought wrong. I've been hard all fucking night. Having Hayden's ass pressed against me, even wearing sweatpants has been pleasure and hell. I should have left. Hell, I should leave now. Instead, I'm walking towards the bathroom where Hayden ran to. I'm doing it while knowing it's a mistake, even knowing I shouldn't.