by Jordan Marie
I ease out of bed. I’m still a little sore from the workout that Michael gave me yesterday. Yesterday seems like a lifetime ago. The house feels weird with no one here. It’s had so many people in it lately, that’s become the new normal. Michael not being here makes it feel really lonely—as empty as I am feeling. I also can’t lie; I’ve been scared to death that Blade will show up when I’m alone. I’ve kept my mace close by, and I’ve managed to curse Michael for taking my gun away.
If my mind doesn’t change, I’m going to use the mace on him. If I ever see him again. I make it into the kitchen to get a glass of water. I can’t help but look across the drive at the old barn. The lights are out, but I notice Michael’s truck is parked under it and his bike too. He’s back. He’s back and he didn’t come here. He didn’t even let me know. He went back to the barn. What does that mean?
I should probably let it go for the night. That would be the smart thing to do, but then when it comes to men, I’ve never been that smart. I grab a flashlight off the counter, slip my feet into some flip-flops and walk over there. I hear the frogs in the background, and somewhere in the distance, I can hear a dog barking. I should get a dog. They’re more dependable than a man. A mean, junk-yard dog, maybe I could name him Beast and when he would do something I hate, I could put him outside with only dry dogfood.
I point the light up the narrow stairs that lead to the barn loft. My body freezes because I hear a sound from behind me. It sounds like a stick breaking, as if someone stepped on it and it snapped. I whip the light around to look behind me, expecting to see Blade standing there. I know it. I can literally feel him there. Shit. I hope I get the chance to tell Michael I hate him. I don’t…but I want him to think I do if he gets me killed.
My heart is beating in my chest so hard it feels like a jackhammer. My palms are wet and my nerves are stretched. Even Maggie, who is usually asleep by now, is moving and kicking nervously. Probably feeding off my energy. “Maggie, girl, your Momma’s an idiot,” I murmur to her. I zig-zag the beam of the light, but thankfully I see nothing out there. I’m only imagining things. It was probably an animal. I’ve seen quite a few opossums out here. They stir mostly at night. Trying to calm my nerves, I walk up the stairs. I cringe as they squeak underneath me because the sound seems abnormally loud.
“Michael?” I whisper, my voice cracking. I clear my throat again, right as I make it to the top step. “Michael?” I try again, using the beam of my light to look through the room. I am about ready to give up when I see him. He’s lying on his stomach, on the couch. His legs are hanging off it a good two foot. One hand is under his chin and the other is holding a bottle that’s sitting on the floor. I lower the light to it and the amber color gives way to what the liquid inside is. I swallow, beating down the fear. I don’t like men who are drunk. I’ve seen what can happen when they are. I’ve experienced some of it. I’m about to turn around and leave, when Michael’s voice stops me.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, his voice slurring the words, but I still understand them. He doesn’t sound mean, maybe drinking doesn’t affect him like it can others.
“I was worried about you,” I confess, “I wanted to see if you’re okay,” I add, feeling stupid. I wanted to come over here and yell and scream at him, but after seeing him, I can’t. He seems so broken, so lost, lying there like that. Whatever is going on with him, is much bigger than him being upset with me.
“I’ll never be okay again,” he says, and the sadness in his voice is so thick and heavy it could almost choke me.
Forgetting to be scared, or even angry, I walk to him. I move the bottle out of his hand, putting it out of the way. Then, I kneel down, taking his now empty hand and holding it with both mine. I don’t say anything. Honestly, I’m not sure what to say. I’m surprised when he doesn’t jerk his hand away.
“What are you doing here, Hayden?” he mumbles, moving his head to the side so he can see me.
I’ve placed the flashlight on the floor and the beam is shining across the room, so our faces are still mostly hidden in the darkness, and I’m glad. I don’t want him to see the pity in my eyes, I know he wouldn’t like it. Besides, it’s not truly pity for him, as much as I’m hurting inside at the look of pain on his face.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“I was worried about you,” I whisper, lost on how to deal with this. He promised so much. Was I stupid in believing his words? What is going on with him? “Michael, we’re…I mean, I’ve grown to care for you. You had to know you would worry me. I thought we were in a relationship here.”
“I’m not a man who can do relationships, Hayden. I’m not him. I’m not really Michael,” he breathes, his eyes closing.
What do I say to that?
What does he even mean?
“Who are you really?” I dare to ask, afraid of his response.
“I’m no one. Not a person. An animal. That’s me. I’m not ever going to be the person I was in my past, Hayden,” he says, his eyes still closed, but somehow sounding more alert. “The person I used to be, I’ll never be that man again.”
“If you wanted to be, you could,” I encourage him. I don’t understand what’s going on here, all I really know is the Michael that he’s been showing me is the man I love. He’s the man I don’t want to lose.
“All I want now is to be left alone. Why can't you leave me alone? Why won't you let me die in peace?” he questions, and his eyes flutter open to stare at me accusingly.
“I don't know...I just can't seem to stay away,” I tell him, truthfully, and because my nerves are increasing, I find my thumb, rubbing back and forth on the largest scar on his hand. It might be my imagination, but it feels like he tightens his hold on me, as if he is welcoming my touch.
"Then I'll destroy you too, Hayden. I destroy everything. Everything I touch, that I care about. I destroy.”
His words make me hurt. Is he going to tell me about Annabelle now? I want to know. I want to help him. If ever a man needed help, it would be Michael right now. I reach up and kiss his forehead, forgetting my own anger in the face of his despair, and I give him honesty again. Big honesty. Honesty that could truly destroy me.
“I wasn’t much before you came into my life, Michael. You helped me learn to breathe again. To appreciate life. I love you. The only way you could destroy me, is if you leave.”
Michael’s body stiffens. He growls under his breath and his hand tightens to bruising force. Maybe I said too much, but the words are out there, hanging between us and damning me. I can’t call them back. All I can do is hang on and see what Michael does next.
102
Beast
“Shut up,” I growl, the alcohol numbing my brain enough to dull some of the pain, but I know what she said. She has no right to say it.
“Michael—”
“What we do with each other has nothing to do with love, Hayden. I gave you my dick. It’s just fucking,” even as I say the words, I regret them. I regret them because it looks like each sentence wounds her.
Her hand flinches within my hold and still, like an asshole, I don’t let go. I want her to hurt. I want her to hurt like I do. I need someone else to feel the pain I feel inside—to know the agony of your soul being destroyed.
“Then why did you promise me more? Why did you even bother making me believe in you?” she asks, her voice quiet—too quiet.
“I didn’t promise anything,” I lie, wanting her to leave. Wanting her to just leave me alone to rot. She jerks her hand hard, but for some reason, I still don’t let go.
“What was that you were saying? How you’d make sure I have nothing but good memories? So many good ones there’s no room for the bad ones? Wasn’t that it, Michael? What was that? Was it all just bullshit?” she cries, and she pulls on her hand again, and when I still don’t loosen my hold she screams at me. “Let me go!”
“What is it you want me to say? That I shouldn’t have said those things? I shouldn’t have! It’s
your fault! You look at me with those eyes, you make me want things I shouldn’t want, need things I have no business needing. You make me forget when I shouldn’t! I can’t forget! Damn you, Hayden you make me want to live again!”
“What’s wrong with that? I don’t understand! Why are you so mad at me? What did I do? One minute, we’re discussing dinner and the next minute, you just walk out the door without a word. Why, Michael? What did I do?” she cries again. There are tears gathering in the corner of her eyes, so thick that I can see them, even in the dim light.
“I told you! You made me forget!” I growl at her, jumping off the couch and all but pushing her away. When I make it about three or four steps away, I shake my head to try and ward off the dizzy feeling that overcomes me.
Hayden wobbles on her knees, falling on her side, but catching herself with her hands. Even in my drunken state, guilt hits me.
“Forget what?” she asks, her voice shaking, and I don’t know if it’s from fear of me, or just being upset. Either way, I know I’m to blame and I hate it. It’s one more thing to add to my list of failures.
“Just go home, Hayden,” I tell her, so tired I feel it in my bones.
“Forget what?” she literally screams, rising up to her feet. She slaps the wall and flips the light switch on. The harsh light causes me to squint as my eyes adjust, and as I focus on Hayden, I realize exactly what emotion she’s dealing with—anger and it’s directed all at me.
“Annabelle!” I scream back, tired of thinking, tired of hurting, tired of everything.
“That’s why you’re upset?” she asks, and I close my eyes as a wave of dizziness takes over.
“Yes,” I mutter weakly, and I think I’m swaying on my feet. I feel Hayden’s hands on my stomach and back, and I look to my side and she’s standing there trying to guide me to a seat. I stumble, doing my best to remain on my feet. Finally, I give in and throw myself into the chair.
“How do I make you forget Annabelle? I don’t understand, Michael,” she says, her voice softer. She stands over me, and I look at her and the pain and guilt I feel over Annabelle and for Hayden all collide.
Enough. I’ve simply had enough. How much is one man supposed to withstand?
“Yesterday was my daughter’s birthday, Hayden. Yesterday was her birthday, and instead of remembering her, instead of trying to hold onto her, I didn’t even think about her. Not one thought. Instead, I was losing myself in you, in your body.”
“Your daughter?” she whispers stunned. “Michael—”
“You think you want a life with me, Hayden? You don’t even know me. I’m no better than, Blade.”
“Bullshit, you can never make me believe that, Michael. I…Oh God, honey, I didn’t realize you lost a child, but you can’t stop living. You’re here. You have to live.”
“I don’t. I don’t deserve to live.”
“Of course you do. Annabelle would want you to live,” she says, and in this moment, I could truly despise her.
“Live? What for, Hayden? So I can pretend to be happy? To make a life using you and your daughter to fill up the emptiness that is slowly eating me up inside? Because that’s all I’ve been doing, and I think it’s clear that’s not working.”
“You…You…are you saying you’re using me and Maggie? I won’t believe that, Michael. What we shared together…it’s not a lie. It can’t be. You’re not that kind of man. You wouldn’t do that,” she argues—defending me. It’s time to show her everything.
I shake my head and the room spins. “You think you know so much about me, don’t you, Hayden?”
“I know you’re a good man,” she tells me, and the belief in her words is so strong it resonates in her voice.
It hurts me to hear her faith in me, and I feel the need to lash out. To unleash the darkness so she sees the real me— the Beast.
“A good man?” I scoff. “You’re lying to yourself, Hayden. I dealt in death as a member of the Blaze. I didn’t even blink dealing out our form of justice.”
“Michael, I know enough about the club life to know what goes on. I also know that you’re nothing like Blade and his men. You aren’t evil. You wouldn’t murd—”
I cut her off, not wanting to listen to her defend me any longer. “I killed my own daughter, Hayden. No one else. I’m the reason my daughter isn’t alive. Me. Do you understand now? Do you finally see it? Do you realize the monster you let between your legs? I’m worse than Blade, I’m your worst fucking nightmare,” I tell her, then I lay my head back, close my eyes, and wait for the sound of her footsteps taking her away from me. Footsteps that will leave me alone.
Just like I deserve.
103
Beast
The sound of the footsteps never come. I open my eyes slowly and see her standing in front of me, her arms crossed at her chest, staring down.
“I told you to leave,” I growl like a spoiled child. Why is she still here? Why won’t she leave?
“There’s nothing you can say, Michael, that will make me believe that you killed your child. Nothing,” she answers, and I hate her. She looks so absolute in her stance, standing there, speaking down to me. I hate her.
“Because I’m such a good person,” I half-laugh, keeping contempt so thick in my voice she flinches.
“You are. You can say whatever you want, but I know it in my heart. You wouldn’t use me or my daughter. You care about us,” she whispers so innocently.
It’s time for the monster to make an appearance. “Was I such a good moral person when I grabbed the arms of your dead brother and pulled him out of the basement he’d been chained up in like a dog?” I ask, as if I am discussing the weather. I look at her with all the self-hate I have boiling inside of me.
Her gasp tells me that my aim was true. She trembles as she deals with the body blow I just delivered.
I allow a smile to contort to my face, one full of cynicism. “He’d been chained up in that fucking basement for a year. Fuck, a lot longer, really. I only knew about it for a year, and I did nothing to stop his torture, nothing to help him. I used to lay awake at night, and I’d get hard imagining the pain he was enduring.”
“Michael—”
“When Skull finally cut him down and fucking let him draw his last breath, I was disappointed. Your brother was such a sick, bloody mess, he was unrecognizable. He was a bag of fucking bones and most of those were broken.”
“You’re lying! Why are you saying this stuff? What is wrong with you? Stop it!”
“Stop? But don’t you want to know where your brother is buried?” I rub my beard.
“You…you know?”
“Know? Who do you think put him there?”
“Michael,” she cries, and she looks so small and innocent standing there, her arms hugging her body as if to ward off more pain.
I should let it go, but I don’t. I need to make sure I drive her away. “There’s no cemetery for you to visit though. There’s not a bench in sight that you could sit on and feel the breeze in your hair, while you talk with your brother. You’ll never have that, Hayden, and do you want to know why?”
“No,” she whispers, pleadingly. “Michael, stop this. You’re not this man, please…Don’t do this,” she begs, her breath and tears both coming harder and faster.
I should listen, but I don’t. “Because I threw him in the ground, in a hole big enough to bury two of him. I poured in chemical after chemical on his body. Then I watched as he literally rotted before my eyes. Want to know what I did then, Hayden?”
“No…”
“But you need to know, since you think I’m such a good person. When it was all done, I spit on him.”
“Michael…”
“And because that still wasn’t enough, I took a piss on him before we finally covered him up.”
“I can’t. I can’t hear this anymore,” she whispers, turning to leave.
“It still didn’t help, not until Skull and I decided to build an outhouse over his damn grave.
I can’t tell you the times I literally took a shit on your brother, Hayden, and I loved every fucking second of it. Hell, Skull still does it. Every. Fucking. Day.”
That does it.
I hear her literally run down the stairs, the door below slamming behind her.
She’s gone.
It’s finished.
That should make me feel better.
It doesn’t.
* * *
The Conclusion Will Be Coming Next Month. Be on the lookout for Book 2: Beauty.
A Note From the Author:
Dear Readers:
* * *
I hope you aren’t cursing me too loudly. I really didn’t want to make this book into a cliffhanger. I didn’t! I fought it. There were several spots I could have stopped, but I kept going. This is the largest book I’ve written to date. But after that last meeting with Hayden and Beast, there was just no easy way to reconcile the gulf between them. These characters are emotionally damaged. They had to take their time getting together and they have hurdles that realistically can’t be made into a happily ever after, easily. I hope you’ll stick around for part two. Pre-Orders should already be up, and if not will be shortly. Thank you for your continued support. Thank you for letting me tell the stories that grow in my heart.
* * *
Xoxo
J
Want to Read More Jordan?
Other Available Titles by Jordan
Savage Brothers MC:
Breaking Dragon
Saving Dancer
Loving Nicole
Claiming Crusher
Trusting Bull
* * *
Devil’s Blaze MC
Captured