CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Ayda
The fact that I had to be nudged from my check out station when my shift was up, said all that needed to be said about my day, really. I hadn’t been able to concentrate one little bit – not since Drew kissed me and took a small piece of me with him. To add insult to injury, Deeks was on my ass twenty-four seven. It just reminded me of what I didn’t have, and that damnable kiss that made my lips tingle every time I thought about it.
Then I got mad.
How dare he kiss me?
How dare he keep coming back when I had nothing left to give?
That stream of thought was the very reason I was sitting out in front of the hut with my knuckles white on the steering wheel, my jaw working back and forth, sending an ache through my teeth. The bastard knew what he was doing. He fucking knew, and he’d made sure I wouldn’t eat or sleep for thinking about him. I was like a fucking toy he couldn’t put down, and he never would, not until I was completely destroyed and another one came along.
Well, I refused to be a toy anymore.
Using the code to get through the gates, I slammed it shut behind me to slow Deeks down in his pursuit. I'd lost him in a subdivision that my ex-boyfriend had lived in. It looked like a rabbit warren, but I wasn't taking any chances. Not tonight. I wasn’t going to be deterred from speaking my mind this time.
This time, I was going to keep my back straight and stick to my guns, and I swore to God, if he tried to kiss me again, I was going to bite the son of a bitch.
The door to the hut was propped open, as it was most evenings when everyone from the club was around. With that many bodies in the space, the smoke and stench had to go somewhere. I had to walk through a cloud of cigarette smoke to get into the main room, but not a soul saw me as being out of place anymore. I'd been invited in. They'd started to expect me. I was just the “cleaning lady.”
The cloying air that wrapped around my body like a force field made my throat feel raw as my eyes scanned the four corners of the place. My first stop was inevitably the bar. I could already see him in my mind’s eye, propped up against it with a bottle of whiskey in one hand, a whore in the other and his signature smirk plastered across his face. It wasn’t as though he expected me to be there… But then again, maybe he did. Maybe I was walking into another one of his traps so he could watch me jump through his hoops with amusement.
For a moment, I actually believed I’d finally got him pegged, but the face wearing the smirk wasn’t Drew’s, nor was it as handsome. It ended up just being one of his boys, who obviously looked up to him with some reverence and hero worship.
“Where's Drew?”
The guy shrugged lazily and huffed out a laugh at me, his arm curling around the girl’s neck and pulling her in for a kiss.
He had the emulation down to a fine art apparently, but it wasn't perfect. His eyes had flickered a second before his lips met the girl’s, and it was just the direction I'd been headed in. Drew’s office. Even though I felt my stomach flip at the last memory of being in there, I pushed myself forward regardless. The train I was on needed desperately to be derailed, and the sooner I managed to get it done, the sooner I could try and get back to some semblance of a life.
I took a huge risk not knocking. There was a chance I would interrupt him with a girl, or more importantly, him and the inner sanctum of the pack, but I stormed in with my anger-fueled bravado anyway, my chest rising and falling as the adrenaline pumped desperately through my veins.
He was there.
I didn’t need to look at him to know that. I could feel his presence the same way I always had, but I chose instead to stare at the memories filling the shelves on the bookcase in the corner of the room, where a younger, smiling version of him seemed like a better target for words that might just piss him off. “You kissed me, you son of a bitch.”
There was no response from him, which, all things considered, wasn’t unusual. He was the king of stoic indifference when he wanted to be. He also knew when to play the cards he had and when to hold them close to his chest.
“You kissed me, Drew, and then you walked away when I begged you not to. I begged you to stay.”
I turned my head to look him in the eyes. I needed to see his reaction, but I choked on my last word as I did.
The man now stood in the middle of the room like a shell of who he once had been, was hollow. His normally vivid and cynical eyes were now glassy and devoid of anything. For a moment, I was so stunned that I couldn’t move, and I sure as hell couldn’t breathe. My glance moved slowly from his bloodied jeans, up to the droplets of crimson falling languidly from his hands, which were balled at his sides and looked as though they’d been masticated.
The higher my attention got, the more blood I saw. Dark spots on his already dark t-shirt made the stains obvious. It was as though the more of it I saw, the more my own ran through my veins, colder, filling me with dread.
This hollow, vacant husk of the most formidable man I thought I’d ever known was making everything but my fear drain from me.
“Drew?”
He didn’t say a word. He didn’t even flicker his eyes to look at me. There was no response. The only sign he’d heard me at all was the sway of his body before he fell into the same chilling stillness he had when I’d entered. I stumbled forward one step, my feet dragging as my bag slid from my arm and landed at my feet with a thump. Neither of us moved; he wouldn’t, and I couldn’t. My eyes were trained on his, looking for some spark of life.
“You’re bleeding.”
Drew's eyes finally dropped to his balled hands and back up to me in a slow circuit that almost made him look deranged. I don’t think I took a breath as he did. I was too afraid that any movement I made would throw him back into the lifeless statue he had been. The darkness of his normally multi-hued eyes now looked as though his irises had swallowed the color in their depths.
“Not mine.”
I looked behind me at the door and the open mini blinds that showcased the main room, before glancing back at Drew with concern. I didn’t know if the men out there knew what the hell was going on in here, but it didn’t really matter to me what they thought, because all I could think about in that moment was protecting him. My only priority was to take care of him when he was so obviously lost in his own head.
I didn't think about my next actions. I was on autopilot as I shut the blinds, twisted the lock, and kept my back to him as I attempted to catch my own breath.
It was true, I’d always been afraid of Drew Tucker in the past, but as unresponsive and daunting this mimic of him was, I found I feared for him. I was afraid that he was broken, that there was no putting him back together, and even in that moment, where hope seemed so unattainable, I thought about what a loss that would be to the world.
I sucked in the biggest breath I could manage, regaining my focus before I turned to face him again. I closed the distance between us in a couple of steps until we were completely isolated, and my hands reached to cup his cool cheeks, if for no other reason than to simply let him know I was there.
“Drew, I need you to come back to me,” I whispered, my thumb attempting to rub some warmth into his flesh. The hand that was closest to me twitched, bumping against my leg, almost as though it was recognition that I was there and talking. There was a chance I was imagining things, but contrary to his belief, I wasn’t that defeatist girl he’d pegged me as. I was an eternal optimist, and I wasn’t giving up that easily. “We need to clean you up, but I need you to work with me here.”
His responding nod was small but obvious, and as I dropped my hand to his wrist and tugged gently in the direction of the bathroom, he gave me no resistance.
There were no words I could give that would reassure him or make whatever this was go away, and I wasn’t going to try. In his world, there were different rules and standards. This response he seemed to be having could have been to anything. The possibilities and variables were endless. So I kept my
mouth shut and my hand lightly on his wrist as I reached into the shower and started the water, the sudden stream a grateful break to the silence that had been ringing around us only seconds earlier.
“I’m going to undress you,” I whispered, my trembling hands moving between us and up to his broad shoulders. I paused as my thumbs brushed the vest. It was a sacred thing for him, and I wasn't aware of the rules.
When he didn't react, I pushed the leather back and down his long arms, my hands sure of each movement they executed, hoping against all hope that I didn’t startle him. When I could no longer reach, I kept contact between our bodies, brushing by as I stepped around behind him, relieving him of the cut respectfully before folding it carefully and setting it on the sink.
I'd been taking my time, and the more measured my movements, the more the room filled up with steam. It didn't deter me as I moved all the way around to his front again. The t-shirt he was wearing was still damp with blood when I gripped the edge of it, but as I started to lift it upward, his hands clamped down around my wrists and held them in place. “No.”
The word was executed with such precision that it froze me in place, my skin dampening from the heat and humidity the steam offered, which was beginning to completely close in around us.
I waited him out though, my skin beading with sweat with every passing second and eventually, my patience paid off. The moment the pressure on my wrists started to release, I continued working in the same slow, measured speed. My hands lifted the damp weighted material up over his abs and chest, until I was forced onto my toes, my fingertips pushing the material up his stretched arms.
Even like that, my body was only inches from his and my eyes were level with his tensed jaw. I saw the twitch moments before his lips moved again. “Ayda, go.”
I shook my head, struggling for a moment to free him from the confines of his t-shirt, until he complied and allowed me to remove the thing. I dropped it with an unintentional shudder, and the sound of the wet material landing on the floor seemed even louder than the hiss of the water hitting the glass, reminding me exactly why I was here.
No matter how formidable Drew was, I tried not to let my glance linger on the scars and tattoos that littered his exposed flesh. I’d seen them all before. The man walked around topless more than some of the women, but there was something far more intimate in that moment between us that spoke to me. It made it all seem more real than it had before. Each scar was someone's attempt to kill him. Each pale, ragged line was an attempt on the life he was now holding onto by the skin of his teeth.
My fingers shook as they gravitated to the one over his hip. The skin was raised over an obvious rip in his flesh, and as I brushed it, the muscles in his abs tensed. I couldn't tell if he was upset, or it was a natural reaction, so I dropped my hand to the buckle of his belt with a muttered apology.
I didn't have to look at Drew to know he was staring at me. I could feel his eyes as I tried to make my hands work the way I wanted them to. “Why are you here?” he whispered roughly, the warm air of his words falling against my head.
My fingers locked awkwardly at the button of his jeans, my chest aching with the breath I pulled in and held. I didn’t know how to answer that and stay honest. I’d gone to the hut for the sole purpose of shouting at him, to demand that he leave me, and by extension, Tate, alone, and here I was, undressing him to wash blood that wasn't his from his body.
Toeing off my shoes, I dropped my gaze to my feet, mostly to stay away from his eyes. I was unsure if they were going to still be eerily vacant, or filled with that fire I caught there at times when he was looking at me. His question had held so much weight and it had so many vacillating arms that I couldn’t seem to sift through them all to get to a simple and straightforward answer. I was looking too far into myself and what I was feeling, only to find the one thing I’d been working so hard to bury, not just from him, but from both of us. I was there at the hut with him because I cared, and on further evaluation, I realized that I cared too much. I wasn’t going anywhere. I couldn't. Not tonight, and maybe not ever.
“To help,” I said, simplifying it to the most basic level and forcing myself to unfasten his button, before lifting my eyes to meet his.
The sadness that lingered in the depths of them had my heart tightening in my chest. He was so lost and unsure of everything, and as his eyes searched mine, I knew that included me. I could tell by the way he was unintentionally seeking to find the emotions I was feeling. I didn't know what he was expecting to find. Was it understanding? Pity? Or was he looking for the disgust he thought he'd earned for his behavior?
“I’m beyond help.”
“Bullshit, Drew. I won’t let you lose yourself to whatever this is,” I said, snapping out of the trance he'd held me in. Taking a breath and getting back to my task, I pushed his jeans and boxers down his legs, keeping my eyes on his. My hands worked diligently, letting gravity take over before lifting my hands and planting them on his ribs. My body leaned against his, my whole weight pushing him to step out of his jeans and toward the shower.
I knew I'd done the right thing the moment he stepped in and closed his eyes. He was shutting himself off from me and the world, the faint trace of color in his cheeks being enough to take the edge off. I should have left him alone, but I needed so badly to see him, to be able to coax him back out from whatever box he’d locked himself inside of so thoroughly in his own head. So I followed him in, my clothes immediately gaining ten pounds as they absorbed the shower’s spray and clung to my skin.
It hadn't been my intention to get in with him. I'd actually wanted to find a first aid kit. I'd wanted to take care of his raw, bloody knuckles, but I needed him as much as he seemed to need me.
As I stood watching him, water falling in rivulets from the tendrils of my hair, he pushed both of his hands up against the tile wall, dropping his head directly under the stream so it beat down on the crown of his hair. Drew Tucker was one of the strongest men I’d ever met in my life, and even as I stood there like a drowned rat beside him, I could see that strength and power emanate from him, but he was tired. Tired and worn down, to the point that the lost boy he’d been was slowly beginning to recede into the territory of being unrecoverable.
Trembling and terrified, I sucked in a breath and swallowed the water I inhaled with it. My body, running solely on the fumes of sleepless nights and copious amounts of caffeine, swung under his arm, my back firmly planted against the wall so I was facing him. He knew the moment I was there. His eyes had opened in a series of slow blinks, realizing how close I was. He just stared at me for the longest time, as though I were the one that was standing there, broken and lost. Maybe I was. Maybe I was on the same path as him. All I knew in that moment was that I hoped it led to the same place, because it was the thought of losing Drew completely that had taken me to this juncture.
“Ayda–”
I didn’t let him finish. My hands were on his cheeks, pulling him closer as I pushed up to my toes, my lips pressing firmly against his before the last syllable of my name had played out. It was instinct that guided me into that kiss, but it was passion and desire that pushed me over the precipice. I needed a reaction from him. I needed to feel him and know that no matter what happened, he would at least know that what I felt was honest and real.
It was when he started to return my kiss that I knew there was no turning back. I could have been under his flesh and it wouldn’t have been enough. He was coming back to life again under my touch as we grappled at one another with an eagerness I wasn't sure I was capable of describing.
I felt the buttons of my favorite shirt go first. They hit the glass in little pattering sounds before disappearing down the drain. The two sides were pulled apart with all the eagerness of a wild animal, the back of his hand brushing against my tight nipple as though testing my body's reaction to him. Goose bumps broke out across my chest, any thought of stopping thrown like caution to the wind. I already knew the answer.
I'd had no intention of ending anything and that was made all the more evident as my hands tangled with his to get rid of the last barriers between us. My bra went one direction, my jeans and panties another. His hand steadied me as I irrationally insisted my socks had to go, bringing the first ghost of a smile to his lips.
We were moving so fast, and as much as I wanted to explore his body, as much as I would have loved to memorize every inch of his well-built frame, I couldn’t tear my eyes from the indisputable hunger in his. They were filled with fire, life and everything I’d needed to see the moment I entered that room and found him empty.
Our breaths were raw, loud and reverberating from the tile, blending with my quiet sighs and moans of pleasure to drown out the sound of everything else.
The sudden realization we were both naked seemed to give Drew pause. His hand slid along the skin of my neck as the heel of his hand rested on my jaw. He didn’t need to ask me if I was sure; he already knew from the pleading in my eyes and the nervous rise and fall of my chest. He drank me in like a man in the desert, rocking back on his heels for a second to inspect every inch of skin exposed to him. I felt open and vulnerable, but beautiful, and coveted.
My little chirp of excitement at the tightness of my stomach pulled him closer before his other arm wrapped itself around my waist, hoisting me up onto his body. My back came against the tile with such force, my breath burst from me in a long stream. Needing more grip, my arm curled around his neck, and my thighs tightened around his waist in anticipation, holding me in place as we both seemed to gather our breath.
It felt like my heart had stopped beating in my chest with the way he looked at me. I don’t think I knew what it was to be wanted until that moment. His eyes were the mossiest of greens and were filled with an emotion I’d never seen him wear before. I knew the only thing in the world he wanted in that moment was to be inside of me.
Without Consequence Page 24