by Bella Andre
She knew only one thing. “No one has ever been nicer to me,” she told him. “Or to Jeremy.”
“That’s now. But back then—” He broke off and his chest rose with a deep breath as if he was trying to force himself to do something painful. “Remember when I said some kids were bullying Matt the day I met him?”
She could feel his heartbeat beneath her fingertips. “Yes. And you rescued him.”
“Evan, Daniel, and Sebastian rescued him, Harper.” He looked her straight in the eye. “I was one of those bullies.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Harper tipped her head back to look at him. The strong lines of his face were tense, the bedside lamp casting dark shadows across one half.
“You were bullying him?” She shook her head, unable to put the amazing man she’d fallen for in that picture, even as a boy. “I can’t believe that.”
His jaw flexed. “Believe it.”
“But I’ve seen you with Matt’s son, Noah. I’ve seen the way that little boy looks at you, and the way Matt trusts you. How could he trust you with his son if you did that?” No father would have let a son of his near the man who’d been his bully when he was a child.
He filled his lungs with another deep breath. “Because, in the end, I changed.” He exhaled sharply. “I changed my mind.”
“I don’t understand.” And she truly didn’t—couldn’t understand anything he was saying to her when it was the exact opposite of what she’d come to know about him.
“I belonged to a gang. In my neighborhood, you were either a bully or you got bullied,” he said in rapid-fire bursts. “You had to act like them to be accepted. So I did.”
His arm still bound her to him as if he was afraid she’d get away. Reaching up, she forced his palm against her cheek, holding him, too, as she tried to piece it all together.
“Road Warriors?” When he nodded, she said, “So if you felt you had to be a bully to fit in, then why did you change your mind about Matt?”
“Maybe I felt sorry for him because he was so scrawny. Or maybe there was just something in his eyes when he looked at me, like they were a kind of mirror that made me see myself in them. See what I was doing.” His whole body was rigid along the length of hers. “I told them to leave him alone. So they turned on me.” She felt his shrug, as if what the bullies had done to him was nothing and only what he’d been about to do to Matt had meaning. “That’s when Daniel and Sebastian rescued me. They were always good fighters.”
“I’m sorry.” She understood bullying. She’d seen neighborhood kids pick on Jeremy. She’d put herself between them. But Will a bully? She remembered his defense of Jeremy at the grocery store, and, in a way, his story made sense of his reaction that day. He’d seen himself in that clerk. Cruel and demeaning. And he’d gone overboard to protect her brother. “But the gang took you back?”
“I went back. I thought they were my people. I thought they were my family, the only one that would ever want me. And that isn’t all I did.” He caressed her cheek with his thumb, his touch a contrast to what he was saying. “You need to know everything. Everything I’ve never told anyone but the Mavericks and my foster mom and dad. I was a burglar and a car thief, too.” He moved slightly, indicating the tattoo on his arm. “I stole anything I thought I could sell. I was really good at picking out the good stuff.” His laugh was more of a snort, angry and mocking. “I still am. I’ve made a fortune at peddling the good stuff.”
Her lips parted. She couldn’t seem to close them again.
“My dad sent me into houses. I was small and I fit through windows where he couldn’t. He’d toss me in and I’d unlock the place for him. Since I was always able to spot the best stuff, dear old pops put that skill to excellent use. We lifted everything we could carry.”
“Your father?” No one could do that to a child, especially not their own child, could they? Except that she wasn’t naïve. She knew people did awful things to children all the time. But this was Will. Not some fifteen-second news bite about a stranger.
“He’s in prison now. Three strikes and you’re out.”
It was hard to breathe, hard to hear, but she knew it was harder for him to tell. “How old were you when he made you steal for him?”
“It started when I was eight. A couple of years after my mom died. When my father figured I was old enough to follow orders without screwing up.”
Her whole soul ached for him, as if she’d suddenly been shoved through a tiny window right along with him, shards of glass scarring her the way his father had scarred him. She’d wondered why he’d sidestepped all her questions, why he’d never told her his story. Now she knew: This was the truth he hadn’t wanted her to pry up.
She’d told her story so many times that she’d ended up feeling as though it defined her, as though it had too much power over her. Whereas, even though Will had told almost no one else, she could see the enormous power his past had over him—and that he believed it defined him, too.
But couldn’t he see? “None of that was your fault.”
He pulled from her then, almost to the opposite side of the bed. So far, far away that even if her hand had been on his chest, his heart, she still wouldn’t have touched him.
“Maybe I wasn’t to blame at first. But all the stuff I did later was my fault. All the bad choices. Lots of bad choices.”
She ached to run her fingers down his arm or to smooth the tightness from his forehead. Anything to ease his pain. But he needed to get it out, and she was afraid that he’d stop if she pushed him just then. Still, she needed to say again, “You were just a kid.”
“I was a bully. I was a thief. I could hotwire a car like that.” He snapped his fingers, a loud, sharp sound in the quiet. “Still can. I probably would have gone to juvie when they put my dad in jail if it hadn’t been for Susan and Bob. Daniel’s parents took us all in when we needed it. Except for Matt.” He shrugged, pressed his lips together, the shadows taking over his beautiful face. “He never moved in officially, he was just underfoot all the time.”
When he talked about Susan and Bob, his voice was reverent, rife with emotion and meaning. The Mavericks, Susan and Bob—these people were the most important in the world to him. No wonder they were bonded beyond blood relation. She didn’t know his friends’ stories or anything about their lives, but if they’d come to Daniel’s parents, she now knew they must have seen things as bad as Will had.
She wanted so desperately to reach out. But Will remained untouchable. “They must be good people.”
“The best. I should have accepted what they offered me long before I did.” A wisp of wind could have carried the soft words away, but other than the rustle of sheets as Will moved, there was only the sound of his voice. “But I didn’t stop doing the things my dad taught me.” His fingers bunched in the sheet as he pulled it higher. “I loved speed. I loved drag racing. I loved cars. And I loved stealing them. I was one of the Road Warriors. And I thought they loved me, too. But I didn’t have a clue.” He turned his head, finally looking at her, one half of his face in light, the other in darkness. “That’s what I did to Susan and Bob. To the people who tried to help me. Gave them heartache and worry.”
“I’m sure they understood, Will.” But she realized the useless platitude in that even as she spoke the words. Words that did nothing to ease his pain.
“I left the Road Warriors when I was sixteen.” He paused, stared at the far bedroom wall as though he could actually see his life playing before him. “Or maybe it’s better to say that they ceased to exist.” Harper stretched out her hand, across the wide chasm of mattress between them as he told her, “That day with Matt, I at least learned I didn’t want to be a bully. And I never did that shit again. But the Road Warriors were different. The lowest on the totem pole always got picked on. That was our way of life. It happened to me, it happened to all of them. Until you weren’t the lowest anymore.
“We had this kid who wanted to be one of us more than an
ything. He was like a gnat, always buzzing around. And he couldn’t do anything right. His name was Eddie, and they called him Eddie Munster after that old TV show.” He shook his head at the wall, still watching the movie in his mind. “They didn’t let up on Eddie. It was freaking endless. But he kept coming back for more. You just wanted to tell him to give up. It was never gonna happen. He’d never be one of us.” Even his voice changed as he spoke, dropping letters off his words. “But ya gotta understand how badly you need a family out there. You’ll take any kind of abuse just to belong.”
She closed her eyes, held her breath as her heart broke in two for him. That was Will himself, the kid who’d taken any abuse just so he could be a part of them. She wanted to cry for him, scream for him, take care of him, never let him hurt ever again.
“Eddie couldn’t drive for crap. And someone got the brilliant idea of giving him his absolute last chance to make it with us. They wanted to set him up in a car, let him race, and watch him crash. ’Cause they were all sure he’d crash. I saw Eddie talking to himself, a pep talk, psyching himself up. He was gonna do it. This time he’d get it right.” He gritted his teeth. “Light—we called him that because he had the lightest fingers and could pick anything out of any pocket—he stood there telling the Munster he had shit for brains and he couldn’t do it, he was nothing, would always be nothing, and this would prove it. On and on. And I watched. All I did was watch.”
He stopped speaking, then stayed silent so long she thought the story had cost him his power of speech.
“He lost it,” Will finally said in a soft voice, one she could barely hear. “The way they all thought he would. Sideswiped another car. That was it. His last chance. And he was out. I can still hear them laughing at him. Until he made them stop.” He closed his eyes, shuddered. “I guess he snapped. He turned the car around, and he plowed right through them.” His tanned skin had gone white, as if the memories were draining all the blood from him. “He killed Light and two other guys. Then he slammed into a wall head on. Killed himself, too.”
She couldn’t manage to hold in her gasp at Will’s revelation, but less than a heartbeat later, she needed him to know, “You didn’t bully him. You didn’t do anything.”
He looked at her then, and she swore she could see him shutting off the movie screen in his head. “That’s exactly right. I did nothing. I let them drive him into the ground. I never stuck up for him the way I did for Matt. Matt was an outsider, an innocent. Eddie, he wanted to be one of us. So I let them haze him to death. Literally. And he took the guys I thought were my friends with him. If I’d done something long before then…”
“Could you really have stopped it? Or would they simply have beaten on you like they did when you stood up for Matt?”
He shook his head sharply. “It doesn’t matter. I never tried. A crime of omission is still a crime.”
She understood then why he drove so fast. It wasn’t so much a love of speed as it was a way to run from his memories, his past. “And you’re still racing after all these years,” she said aloud.
His eyes were simultaneously full of emotion and totally bleak. “Yes. I still love speed. Still need speed. Still feel like I’ll go off the rails if I don’t have enough of it. Being with you is like that, Harper. A total rush. You fill up all those empty spaces. And even though I’ve known all along that I shouldn’t let it happen, I haven’t been able to stop. Haven’t been able to make myself do the right thing and leave you alone.”
She couldn’t stand it anymore. She couldn’t lie still in his bed. She either had to touch him—or run.
And she knew which one he thought she would pick. Almost as if every word he uttered was designed to make her leave. To force her out. To make her throw his words of love back in his face.
But how could she, when everything was now so clear? Will had been a small boy who was horribly used. And yet, he’d turned into a man who would champion her brother and teach a small child to swim. He’d been a broken little boy who, with help and love, had glued himself back together again.
And now, he was a man who loved her.
All along she’d been telling herself this was just hot sex with a super hot guy. Nothing more than a thrilling ride in a fast car. But the truth was that Will had managed to touch her in all the places she’d been afraid to let anyone near. Not since her parents died. Not even since she’d lost the old Jeremy. She’d never let anyone in. Not until Will had pushed past her barriers, her walls, each of her fears, one by one.
The honest truth? She was terrified. Terrified that if she truly gave her heart and then something happened to him, how could she possibly keep moving forward without him the way she had before?
“So you see, Harper, I’m really not a nice guy in any way.”
As his voice thrummed like a chord inside her, she crawled across the expanse of his bed. She couldn’t let him believe that horrible lie for one more second.
She straddled his lap and took his face in her palms. “I don’t want a nice guy. I only want you. The best man I’ve ever known.” Putting her hand on the tattoo of his youth, she bent to kiss the inked skin. “Susan and Bob forgave you no matter what you did. And so do I, Will. So do I.”
But she knew she needed to say more, needed to explain why she wasn’t echoing his beautiful words back to him. “My not saying those words...it’s not because you aren’t worthy. And it’s definitely not because I’m too smart to fall for you. I’m falling, Will. You have to believe that. I just—”
She’d been planning to seal the confession with a kiss designed to ease his pain and loss, but he cut off her halting words, pulling her to him, his mouth a breath away.
“It’s enough to know you’re falling, Harper. And that one day, maybe, if I’m lucky, you’ll let yourself fall all the way.”
She kissed him then, with everything she had in her. Tasted him, savored him, and took his hard heat between her naked thighs, putting on protection at the same time. Then she took him deep inside. So deep that their coming together stole her breath, his breath, even stopped the beating of their hearts for one endless, perfect moment.
“Harper.”
She drew everything from him then, with her body, her soul. Over and over, faster, harder, her hands, her mouth, taking him higher, deeper, until he cried her name, guttural words spilling out.
She recognized love, she recognized you. And for the first time, as she followed him over the edge of a greater bliss than she’d ever known, she let herself fully drink in his emotion...and the undeniable truth that he was quickly becoming everything to her.
* * *
Will had never known peace. Not until this moment. He’d always been fighting—to make more money, to best a business opponent, to drive the fastest car, to introduce his clients to the perfect caviar or the ultimate Swiss watch, to find the one thing in the world that everyone wanted and only he could provide.
He’d been fighting his whole life to erase the kid he’d left behind in Chicago.
Until Harper made love to him...and he realized he didn’t need to fight anymore.
She hadn’t said she loved him, had even told him she needed more time. He understood that Harper—and Jeremy—had been hurt enough by men like him that she needed to think, to process, and to make absolutely sure she trusted him. But he swore he could feel her love in the way she looked at him with such emotion, in her touch, in the way she’d taken him to heaven and wouldn’t let him leave.
She rested her fingers on his tattoo. “If it bothers you so much, why haven’t you gotten rid of it?”
“It reminds me of where I came from.” He could have left it at that, but she’d just given him so much. More than he’d ever hoped for. So he forced himself to give her more in return. “And it reminds me of where I never want to go again.”
He still couldn’t believe she hadn’t jumped from his bed and demanded that he take her home. That she didn’t hate him.
“Is that why you never let
me take your clothes off? Why you wore a T-shirt when you were swimming with Noah?”
“Almost no one has seen my tattoo. I’m careful to make sure they don’t.”
She pressed a kiss to the center of his chest, right where it felt as if his heart was beating only for her. “So that makes me special, doesn’t it?”
Hauling her tight against him, he wanted her to feel the power she had over him. To know that she’d made his life good in a way it never had been before. In a way he’d never thought it could be. “So special you make me ache when I look at you.”
Her gaze roamed his face. She followed the look with her fingers. “You changed your life, changed who you are. If you ask me, you should let everyone see it.”
It stunned him that, like Susan, she saw his mark as a symbol of triumph rather than as the evidence of his worthlessness. She wanted him to recognize it, too. Just as Susan had said, Harper was good for him.
In that moment, as he held her tight in his arms and she held him right back, Will vowed to do everything in his power to prove he could be good for her as well. He wouldn’t let her down.
No matter what.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“I still can’t believe you rented the entire Laguna Seca Raceway,” Harper said a week later. “How is that even possible?”
The man could do anything. He wasn’t just amazing—he was completely overwhelming.
Will hadn’t sprung this trip to the racetrack on her, but checked with her first whether it was okay before mentioning it to her brother. “I swear,” he’d said, “we’ll keep it to one hundred twenty, tops. Slower in the turns.”
One hundred twenty. He’d said it as if she should be reassured by that number. She wasn’t, of course, since one-twenty was way too fast. But he had promised to keep her brother safe, no matter what. And despite the blitz of fear at the thought of her brother going that fast in a car, she realized she trusted Will. Trusted him with Jeremy in a way she’d never trusted anyone else.