No Apologies

by Sybil Bartel

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Strength

  I forced myself to get up the next morning and go to the shop. An hour in, I was regretting my decision. My head pounding, my knuckles sore, I was almost useless. The one bright spot, besides Gunnar not being around to witness last night, was Harlan obviously hadn’t talked. Otherwise, I would’ve had a visit from Ocala’s finest by now. I was lucky the club’s security cameras didn’t canvas the area of the parking lot where I’d parked.

  By eleven I was thinking of going home when I heard a motorcycle pull up out front. I glanced out and saw Carly getting off the Rebel. Her white-blond hair cascading over her black leather jacket, she looked like an angel. Then she turned and her expression hit me in the gut.

  My knees almost gave out. Everything Harlan had said was true. Pronounced cheekbones that hadn’t been there a week ago, frowning like she was in pain, her whole demeanor screamed sadness. Looking resigned and worse, scared, she walked into the shop.

  “Hey.” Her voice was hesitant with uncertainty.

  “Hey.” It took everything I had not to reach for her.

  We stared at each other.

  Carly blinked. Then, cautious, she moved closer. “What are you working on?”

  I took a step back. “Transmission’s slipping, needs new brakes.” I angled my body so she wouldn’t see the stitches.

  Inhaling, nodding, she broke eye contact. She touched the car, then drew her hand back like it was hot and looked at me beseechingly. “What happened last night?”

  My stomach dropped. She knew. “Harlan jumped me.”

  “How badly are you hurt?” She reached for me but I couldn’t back up any more, I was against a workbench.

  I flinched from the touch I so desperately wanted as she ran her hands over my ribs and arms. My voice rough, I barely got the words out. “I’m fine.” She knew.

  She picked up my hands and looked at my knuckles. “You’re bleeding.” Her voice broke.

  I pulled my hands away and this time I spoke with no emotion. “I’m fine.”

  She went still.

  Only two people could’ve told her what happened and it sure as shit wasn’t me. “Harlan’s in the hospital.” I waited for a reaction.

  “I know.”

  The rage was instant. She’d gone to him. I shoved away from her and walked around the car. “You should go.”

  She didn’t move. “What did he say?”

  I picked up a socket wrench and threw it.

  Her gasp echoed through the shop right before the wrench hit the wall and clanked to the cement floor. Hands on my hips, chest heaving, I fought for control and lost. “Leave,” I ground out.

  “Please, talk to me.”

  Her tiny frightened voice sent a tremor through my body and I was suddenly in another place and time. Myles’s back to Sam, I was seeing every ounce of Sam’s pain. I turned around, rubbed my hands over my head then faced her again and did what I needed to do. “Go back to Harlan.”

  “You have stitches,” she whispered, horrified.

  “Go home, Carly.”

  She recoiled as if I’d hit her.

  “Leave.”

  For one painful moment, she stared at me, then she rushed out of my shop.

  I fell against the fastback and sank to the ground.

  * * *

  Eight hours later, I drove to the gig in Gainesville. I was dead inside. I’d called Gunnar and when I’d heard the contentment in his voice, I told him he should stay a few more days with Jep. I didn’t want him to see me like this but when he didn’t ask to come back, I almost went to Miami instead of Gainesville.

  Myles was backstage when I got to the venue. He took one look at me then zeroed in on my right hand.

  “What happened?”

  “With what?” I took my bass out of its case. I was surprised Neil hadn’t said shit to him.

  “The guy who I’m sure looks worse than you.” Myles knew my number.

  “Last time I saw him, he was unconscious.” I slipped the strap over my neck and winced when it brushed against the stitches.

  Myles narrowed his eyes. “Turn around.”

  “Fuck off.”

  Myles walked around me. “How many?”

  “Ten,” I muttered.

  “That’s a lot of stitches.”

  I snorted. Forty was a lot.

  “Who was he?”

  “Carly’s boyfriend.” Might as well have been.

  “Carly has a boyfriend?”

  I shrugged.

  “You gonna be able to play tonight?” He was all sincerity.

  It was insulting. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  Myles held his hands up. “Just checking.”

  “I’m fine,” I grumbled, reminding myself this wasn’t Myles’s fault.

  “Well, I guess that’s one upside to Gunnar being at Jep’s.”

  “What fucking upside it that?”

  “Gunnar didn’t have to see you bleed.”

  No fucking shit. “Let’s go do sound checks.” I needed to focus on something else.

  “Right on.” Myles smiled his happy smile. I didn’t have a happy smile. Not anymore. It’d run out of my shop today.

  The show sucked. No, I sucked. My concentration was shit. The stitches were killing me, my head was pounding and I sweat through my fucking T-shirt. And because I was in shit mood, feeling fucking sorry for myself, I sang the old version of “Break.” Myles eyed me halfway through, then closed the show with a cover. Fucking prick.

  I didn’t think my night could get worse but fate always fucks with you when you’re down. I shoved through the backstage door and Gemma was in the dressing room. So were a dozen other chicks but what the fuck? I shouldn’t have been surprised. I threw my bass in the case and grabbed the handle, hoping for a quick escape.

  “Have a drink with me?” She didn’t even bother with the bullshit gushing that groupies usually vomited.

  Dead sober, I could smell the alcohol on her and it reminded me of Georgia passed out in my car. “Go fuck yourself.”

  “Still mad at me?”

  “I don’t give a shit about you enough to be mad at you.” I couldn’t even hate her anymore for what she’d done in Gainesville. It was my fucking fault I’d forwarded Carly’s story. I turned to leave.

  Myles, Ben and Aaron walked in and Gemma slid up against my side. I looked down at her like she was bat-shit crazy, and Myles and Aaron burst out laughing. The harder they laughed, the harder I had to fight a smile. We’d had countless discussions about the crazy shit groupies would do no matter how rude you were. Gemma was making a spectacular argument in favor our theory. I gave up and laughed with them. Damn, it felt good.

  Gemma pulled back, looked at us all then eased back up next to me. “You ready for that drink now?”

  “Fuck, woman, get a clue.”

  Aaron and Myles laughed harder and Ben looked amused.

  “Graham.” she fake-pouted.

  In a moment of weakness, I shook my head in resignation then looked at Myles. “You in?”

  “Only if you need someone to remind you not to do something stupid.”

  Good point. And I was driving. “One drink.”

  Myles raised his eyebrows. “Your funeral, dude. I’m out but be at the studio by ten tomorrow, ready to work.” He slapped me on my back and took off. Aaron and Ben drifted over to some college-looking chicks.

  “Alone at last.” Gemma put her hand on my stomach.

  I shoved her away. “Don’t get your hopes up, ain’t happening again.” I’d have a drink because I wanted one but that was it. I walked out of the dressing room.

  I had three drinks.

  I threw the first Jameson’s back because I could. Then I threw a second one back because Gemma wasn’t Carly. Then I sipped the third so I could stomach Gemma.

  “So, the blonde? You love her, huh?” Gemma swirled her drink.

  “I’m not telling you shit.”

  She was
n’t deterred. “You don’t seem like the settle-down type.”

  “Why the fuck are you here?” What was wrong with women? I wasn’t even nice to her.

  “So I can do this.” She was quick. On tiptoe in a flash, she locked her lips on mine and her hand went to my dick. For half a second I was so surprised, I let her kiss me. Then my brain took over. She wasn’t Carly. She wasn’t even hot, she was crazy and needy and she was fucking pissing me off. I shoved her back, hard.

  Gemma smiled like she’d gotten one over on me.

  Like a fucking tool, I got angrier and lost my game. “You touch my dick again and I won’t give a shit you’re a woman. You hear me?”

  “I feel you.” She glanced below my belt, egging me on further.

  And because I’d had way too much experience with women like her, I knew what to do. I reined in my anger, smiled like a piranha and threw out the one thing that would make her mad enough to back off. “Sweetheart, you just weren’t that good. I’ve had way better.”

  Then I walked off before I got kicked in the balls.

  Radar detector on, I pushed the Barracuda all the way back to Ocala. I had one thing on my mind. Carly. And the more I thought about her, the more I thought about Gemma trying to kiss me. Except it wasn’t Gemma kissing me anymore. The scenario had turned upside down in my head and I was imagining that fucking tool Harlan trying to kiss Carly. I got enraged, speeding down the highway doing one-ten, gunning it to get to Carly before Harlan did, that kind of enraged.

  I was too late to make the bar so I pulled onto her street, threw it in park, got out then had a moment of panic. What if she was up there with someone? What if she wasn’t home? What if she wouldn’t answer the door? Fuck.

  In the end, I did the only thing I knew would get a response, I texted her.

  Me: I’m outside your front door. It’s an emergency

  She didn’t text back.

  Two minutes later, the unmistakable sound of a deadbolt sliding open made my heart kick into overdrive.

  Her hair in a ponytail, she wore nothing but a T-shirt and a face full of worry. “Graham, what’s wrong?”

  I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. I grabbed her hand, locked the door and led her up the three flights. I stepped over her threshold then pulled her into my arms. Thinner than a week ago, her small body went rigid and she gasped.

  I almost didn’t care. She was in my arms and I couldn’t get enough. My hands moved everywhere, her back, her shoulders, her waist, her arms, and the words began to bleed out of my mouth.

  “I knew when I first saw you in that shit bar that I wanted you but I was a fucking prick. I wanted you on my terms and I only wanted you for one night. I was stupid enough to think I’d get my chance but then I began to talk to you and I knew you were different. Different enough for me to realize I didn’t deserve you.” I pulled back just enough to take her face in my hands.

  “But I couldn’t stay away. I began to crave you. I wanted my day to end with a piece of your smile. I wanted to walk into that bar every night and just have you smile at me. Me, a total piece-of-shit player, just wanting your smile.” A harsh laugh shook my chest.

  “Graham.”

  “No, just listen. I...” Movement on the couch stopped me cold.

  “You what?” Harlan sat up.

  My heart stopped. Then adrenaline-fueled rage hit me like a fucking freight train. “What is he doing here?” My voice deadly quiet, I stared at the enemy.

  Tape across his nose, his face a swollen, black-and-blue mess, Harlan pushed to his feet. “Three’s a crowd and I was here first. I’m spending the night,” he taunted, without an ounce of self-preservation.

  I didn’t take my eyes off him. “I asked you a question, Carly.”

  “Graham—”

  I cut her off. “You said you’d never been alone with him.” I began to shake. “You’re half fucking dressed.”

  Small hands landed on my chest. “Last night was enough.” She looked over her shoulder at the fuckwad. “Don’t be stupid, Harlan. If you’re going to lie, I’m not going to stop him.”

  I was going to kill him.

  Carly gripped my shirt and tugged. “Look at me, Graham.”

  Nostrils flaring, chest heaving, I dropped my eyes.

  “He said he had nowhere to go. He came here after he got released from the hospital. He has a concussion and he was supposed to have someone with him. That’s it. There’s nothing more to it than that. I was in my bedroom, alone, when you texted me.”

  “He came here. And you let. Him. In?” I tried to draw a breath but I was irate. “What did he tell you happened?” I ground out, hanging on to reason by a fucking thread.

  Then the motherfucker laughed. He fucking laughed. I launched forward and Carly scrambled to keep up, jumping in front of me.

  “Harlan, if you want to live long enough to walk out that door, you better tell him what you told me!” Carly pushed with both hands against my chest and I let her.

  “I was drunk, I don’t remember a thing.” Fuckhead smiled.

  “Leave. Now.” Jaw clenched, fists ready, I’d give the motherfucker two goddamn seconds, two seconds, then I was going to finish what I started.

  Harlan stepped into his shoes and grabbed a jacket off a chair. “Thanks, babe, it was fun while it lasted. I’ll call ya later.” He took a step toward her, arm extended like he was going to touch her.

  Quick, merciless, I moved forward, grabbed his forearm, twisted and brought it behind his back. He lurched toward the door but I kept his arm hostage in my grip.

  “If you fucking call her again or show up here, you won’t be walking out of any hospital.” I shoved him out the door, then kicked it shut.

  The silence of the room was broken only by my panting.

  Carly’s hands went to her hips. “Are you done pissing in the sand?”

  “Not even close.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Mine

  “Good!”

  Shocked by her response, I still moved. My hands grasped her face and neck and I slammed my lips over hers. Growling, I pinned her against the wall. Desperate, out of control, I snaked my tongue into her mouth and fucking saw stars.

  Everything disappeared except her. The feel of her breath on my skin, her lips, her mouth, her tongue, I was desperate for her. She crawled up my body with uncontained need. Her scent all around, I wanted her. This was what I’d always wanted. Her, two steps past sanity, the line between desire and obsession gone, crazy, break-a-person frantic. For me.

  I gripped her hair and pulled. Her head fell back, ripping our lips apart, and I sucked the soft flesh of her neck between my teeth. She made a guttural sound and hitched her legs around my hips. Grabbing the backs of her thighs, I pushed against her and cried out. “Hummingbird.”

  I didn’t think. I didn’t reason. Kissing her, I carried her into her bedroom and laid her on the bed.

  “Graham.”

  I didn’t hear the fear in her voice. “I missed you,” I rasped, lowering my weight on top of her. Rocking my hips forward, I sucked in a breath at how perfect she felt beneath me and pushed up her shirt.

  “Graham.”

  My hand froze over her stomach. Her voice trembling, her body rigid, she’d dropped her legs from my hips.

  I was a fucking tool.

  I pulled her shirt down and cupped her face. “This is me stopping. I’m stopping, Hummingbird.” I kissed her forehead, rolled on my back and pulled her into my arms. I was angry with myself and enraged all over again at the sick fucking bastard who’d done this to her.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  Oh hell no. I tilted her chin up. “Don’t. Don’t ever apologize for being who you are. Not to me, not to anyone.”

  Her eyes welled with unshed tears. “I missed you, Graham Allen.”

  “I know.” I gently pulled out the elastic holding her hair, and a halo of sunshine fell around her shoulders. God, she was beautiful.

 
; A tear slipped down her cheek and she laughed, a delicate, make-my-heart-smile laugh.

  “You always were a cocky bastard.”

  I smiled. “I missed you too.” I stroked the soft skin of her cheek and my smile faltered. “I don’t want to walk away from you anymore.”

  “Then don’t.” She said simply.

  I nodded, wondering if it could be this easy. “So, you and me?”

  “You and me.” She nodded back.

  “I come as a package deal now,” I warned.

  “I know.”

  I had to be straight with her. “He’s a kid, he has to be my priority.”

  Unbelievably, she smiled. Not any smile, but a pure joy, full of humor, she-knew-something-I-didn’t smile. “I think, just maybe, you might have room for two in that heart of yours.” She patted my chest.

  Jesus. “Are you mocking me?”

  “Uh-huh.” She grinned wider.

  “Christ, woman, you’re going to work me every chance you get, aren’t you?” But I didn’t give a shit. She was in my arms and I was happy.

  “Oh, yeah.” She laid her head on my chest and her silky hair fell everywhere.

  I tangled my fingers in the soft strands, then caressed her back. “So we’re really going to do this?”

  She picked her head up and serious blue eyes looked at me with trepidation.

  I panicked. “Don’t fly away from me, Hummingbird.”

  “Okay.”

  Relief surged through me and I kissed her. Slow, gentle, like I should have from the beginning. I kissed her to show her my heart, my intentions, my patience. And I let her come to me. The parting of her lips, the tentative slide of her tongue across mine, her hands on my chest, there was no sweeter victory. But when her hand innocently slid to my stomach, I pulled back.

  “We’re not taking this further tonight.” I wasn’t going to make that mistake with her. I wanted her to trust me. “I need you to understand I’d never do anything to hurt you. You’re calling the shots from here on out. You tell me what you’re comfortable with, and that’s where we’ll take it. Just you and me. I’m not gonna push, you hear me?”

  She exhaled. “Why are you doing this?” Her whisper was full of confusion but it was also full of hope.