Resistance

by K Larsen

  “Okay. I’ll be there.”

  Chapter 31

  Make It Count

  I hear the bike before I can see it. There won’t be a whole lot of riding days left before the snow starts. Pepper pulls into her driveway, kills the engine, and strides towards the front door. As soon as it swings open I yank her inside and throw her against the wall. Our lips collide with force. The passion in her kiss leaves me dazed but wanting more. I palm her ass cheeks and pull her upwards. Her legs immediately wrap around my waist while her arms snake around my neck and shoulders. Using her back, she pushes her hips and ass away from the wall to grind against me. Without my lips leaving hers I move us clumsily down the hall towards her bedroom. I kick open the door and stumble us to the bed. Pulling back I fight with the button of her pants before finally getting it and tugging them down her lean legs. Panties next. She’s already stripped off her shirt and bra for me. God, every little thing about her is amazing. I spread her legs and lick hard up her center. Her hips buck and she groans loudly. I repeat my movements over and over again reveling in her responsiveness.

  She’s about to come from my mouth between her legs so I stop to kiss and tease other parts of her luscious body instead. I do this four more times, leaving her panting, sweating, and both our bodies’ blood pumping wildly from needing release. My tongue laps circles around her right nipple before taking it into my mouth and biting down on it. I play with it with my tongue while I finger Pepper’s inner folds. She moans loudly when she’s close and I soften to a slower stroke, moving her wetness around which is hot because she’s drenched for me. She’s scrunching the sheets up in her hands. I love the delirious look in her eyes. Stormy and needy. I push in slowly once before widening her legs more to drive inside with more force. Her head rolls to the side and I watch her back arch from the ripple of pleasure my thrust causes. Sliding my arms under her arched back, I pull her up to face me. We are sitting straddling each other, with our knees bent at each other’s sides. Pepper bites down on my neck. I place my hands under her butt to lift it and get more movement. With her on top, sinking down on me, we both cry out from the pleasure. I want this so badly I don't have time to feel anything except her tight pussy choking my dick. I let myself get lost in the sensation and let my body instinctively take the lead. It’s wild. Feral. Hot. Her teeth sink into the skin at my neck once more as our chests slide up and down against each other, slick with sweat. She comes hard and fast, screaming out nonsense. I ride the tail of her orgasm, finding my own. We stay clinging together for a few moments before either is ready to move.

  I kiss the top of her head and she nuzzles up under my chin, sedated and content as we lay next to each other. My voice is gritty as I stroke her back slowly.

  “I don’t want you to shut me out,” I admit.

  She plays with the muscles on my abs, lingering in the crevices as she goes.

  “I’m not, Sawyer, but, I need to do this my way.” I nod into the pillow. We cling to each other in silence until each of us drifts to sleep.

  * * * * *

  She wakes gasping for air, startling me awake. I pull her into a tight embrace.

  “Shh. You’re safe. I’m right here,” I whisper softly, over and over until her body relaxes limb by limb. A month is going to be a really long time. My thoughts whirl around my brain as she sleeps soundly finally. When morning comes, she’ll pack and leave me. I’m all for counseling, but will it change her? Will I become obsolete suddenly? My own insecurities and fears pummel me, keeping me from finding sleep.

  Chapter 32

  Send-offs

  She softly kisses my lips and keeps our noses touching. I pray to every God I know of that this month apart, this intense therapy, doesn’t break us. My chest is caving in from the idea of not seeing her for four weeks and what it could mean.

  “It’s only four weeks,” she breathes. I try to look away from her, from the need I see, the plea in her eyes. But I can’t. She doesn't say any more, but I hear her loud and clear anyway. She wants to do this on her own. She’s leaving no matter what I say.

  “I know.”

  “I’ll come home better,” she says, gazing into my eyes. The crisp air has her arms covered in goose bumps. I rub my hands up and down her arms to warm them. I’m not going to tell her that her words are exactly what I’m afraid of, that she’ll come home different, moved on from her past…and me. I kiss her lightly again and open the door to her junky old car for her.

  “You sure this thing will make the drive?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood. She rolls her eyes at me playfully.

  “It’s not as old as you are,” she smirks. I chuckle, unable to resist.

  “Har har. Be safe,” I answer as she folds into the driver’s seat. Her bag is in the backseat, the car’s running, and she’s about to drive out of my life for the next thirty days. Thirty days with no contact.

  My throat constricts.

  A lump forms that is impossible to swallow.

  “Kiss me,” she says. Her whiskey eyes are glistening ever so slightly. If she thinks I don’t notice, she’s wrong. Her hands shake just barely as she reaches out for my face. I cup her jaw and kiss her. Not a wild kiss. Not a greedy kiss. A kiss that silently pleads, “I love you, don’t leave me.” Sweet and sad. A kiss that begs, please come back. I feel like a foolish teenager. I should be supportive. I should do everything within my power to help her heal and be whole. But it feels like this treatment is so intense that she could very well come back and say, I’m finally at peace with myself, my life, but I’m not ready for a relationship. There are so many unknown variables that I can’t predict, it makes my stomach roll. She’s not given me a reason to believe anything will change, but I know that when people take a step away from everyday life to work on themselves, sometimes, when they figure it all out, they change. Sometimes, even the slightest change can snowball into an entirely different life path.

  I pull my lips from hers and look at her, memorizing every minute feature on her face. The three freckles on her left cheek. The faint scar. The slight bump on her perfect nose where it broke. Her inky black lashes, the golden flecks in her eyes that sometimes change to a burnt caramel hue.

  “I will miss you, Pepper.” The words come out harsher than I meant. The emotions I feel are evident in my tone.

  “Thirty days, Sawyer. That’s all. And me too,” she whispers. I pull back, shut the car door for her, and stuff my hands into my pockets. She gives a faint smile my way that doesn’t reach her eyes and slowly backs out of the driveway. Possibly out of my life. I stand there watching her car become smaller and smaller until I can’t see it anymore. Then I stand there some more, staring off into the distance.

  My cell buzzes in my pocket bringing me back from my thoughts. I tug it out of my pocket to see who it is. A text from Beau.

  “ATF @club looking for you”

  I type out my response to Beau letting him know I’ll be right over and hop my bike to head out. Now what? Will any of this ever truly be over? He must know Pepper’s gone for a month. What could he possibly have to say to me?

  * * * * *

  Shadows stretch across the narrow parking lot in front of the two buildings that make up the MC. The air is turning chilly already, summer saying its goodbye each day a little more. I kill the engine and swing a leg up over the seat of the bike. I set my helmet on the seat and head inside, anxious to know what’s going on.

  Bentley sits at the meeting table behind the bar area. The door is slightly ajar, giving me a full view of him as he sits. His hands are clenched in fists resting on the table top. Two more steps and his head swings in my direction. Blue, stormy eyes glare into mine.

  “Hi,” I offer stepping through the threshold.

  “Sit,” Beau commands at the opposite end of the table. My brows knit together in confusion as I take a seat two chairs down from Bentley.

  “Where is Carmine?” Bentley barks.

  “How should I know? No one’s seen him for
a week or more now.” I look to Beau for confirmation but he doesn’t give any information away. His lips are a tight thin line, his jaw set. “What’s going on?”

  “Carmine Delanti is wanted for aiding and abetting Ezra Ash’s escape from prison. He is the one who led Ezra to Pepper. I need to know any information that might help track him down.”

  “What?” I choke out. Carmine? The club’s Carmine is responsible?

  “Hydrant, if you know anything at all, please, tell Agent James,” Beau says.

  “Know anything? Are you serious? The woman I love was being stalked by a guy I hang out with! You think if I knew, I would have let him be around her? Around me!?” I bellow. The room gets eerily quiet. I feel sick. Carmine is truly a sick bastard.

  “It’s not that you knew, Sawyer, it’s that you might know something that could help us find him now,” Bentley says breaking the tense silence.

  “He’s an asshole. Treats women poorly. He always took strange phone calls that needed to be in private! I don’t know. He mentioned family, I think in Baltimore, but I’m not positive. He never had pictures, or names, or stories to tell about them. They never came to see him. He just hung around like a creeper,” I state dryly. If Carmine shows his face around here I am going to give him the beating of a lifetime. Rage ripples through my muscles. I want to tear him apart piece by piece.

  “Does the name Delanti ring a bell to you?” Bentley asks in a clipped tone.

  “Not any more than what you mentioned at the hospital.”

  “Torren Delanti is one of the largest gun and drug smugglers in the U.S. Carmine is his cousin. The family went to great lengths to make sure Ezra escaped from prison. They used him to tie up his own loose end. They used him to get to Pepper. The money she was in possession of exceeded five hundred thousand dollars. The USB contained information that convicted Ezra, but also implicated that Ezra was working for Delanti. He’s lost the information and the money. I don’t think I need to explain how dire this situation could end up.”

  “Is Pepper in danger still?” My chest feels like a vice is slowly cinching itself around my ribs.

  “If we can head off Carmine before he talks to Torren, we have a shot at keeping her safe,” Bentley answers.

  “I saw him.” I breathe angrily. “I saw Carmine leave Adventure World the night Ezra was there.” I knew the bike. I ignored it as anything relevant. My hands clench into fists at my thighs.

  “Hoot saw him the day before our meeting,” Beau adds.

  “That gives him what then, a little over a week in hiding?” Bentley asks. Beau nods.

  “He was seeing Kylie.” I grab my phone and open her contact entry before sliding the phone to Bentley.

  “I haven’t heard from her in a week either. She usually texts me at least once every week. I feel sick, I hooked them up,” I admit. Bentley writes down her contact information and takes her home address from me before standing up and calling backup to check on her location immediately. All of Carmine’s interest in Pepper makes sense now. His ridiculous warning to stay away from her. His constant questions about her. I want to pummel him. It would be best if the ATF find him first, though. I can’t be sure I wouldn’t kill him. There are too many people that depend on me for me to let rage take over.

  “Sawyer, it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known. I should have seen it. I should have been more attentive to who was around her.” Bentley shakes his head, disgusted with himself. But it’s not his job to babysit her either.

  “Will you please call me when you find Kylie? I don’t want to talk to her, I just want to know she’s safe. We dated a while ago. She’s a leech but she’s not a bad person,” I say. Bentley nods, shakes Beau’s hand, then mine, and sees himself out, ear pressed to his phone, barking orders.

  “I hope to God they find him,” I mutter. Beau clamps a palm on my shoulder and squeezes.

  “Me too, because if we find him first, things will get ugly. No one messes with my family,” he grumbles. “It’ll be okay.” I want to believe him but I don’t feel like everything's going to be okay. I need to find a way to warn Pepper. I can’t even see Pepper to tell her, to warn her.

  Chapter 33

  Torment

  The past five days have gutted me. I’m on edge, worried about Pepper and the Carmine situation. I’m struggling with our separation. There's always a risk when you open yourself up and show someone who you really are. You are always vulnerable. I think that must be how Pepper’s felt for years now. I’ve buried myself in appointments at Bloodlines to keep my mind busy. Allie and I have taken more walks, bike rides, and trips to the Parlor than necessary. Anything to get me out of the house and keep me busy.

  Clara tried to give me a Valium on Tuesday. I’d laughed and told her no thanks. I think I actually offended her. She really seemed to think I needed to relax. I miss seeing Pepper. Obviously. But more so I miss the random texts throughout the day. The way she might just bump my shoulder or hold my hand. I miss her smell. I didn’t realize wholly just how much time we’d started spending together. The nights without Allie are now really silent and lonely. The weather even seems to be solemn. It’s getting brisker and brisker out. In a couple weeks I’ll have to put the bike away for the winter months. That makes my stomach drop almost as much as being without Pepper does. Tugging off my helmet, I make my way to the mailbox. I should check it considering I haven’t been motivated to do so in three days. I jab my hand into the belly of the box and yank out the oversized pile one-handedly before heading up the drive and into the quiet house. Tossing the stack on the countertop I notice an envelope that doesn’t look like a bill or junk mail. One with a handwritten address. The envelope is marked from near Roanoke. Pepper. I tear into it, pulling the papers free from their confinement.

  “Sawyer,

  I’m sure by now Bentley has come knocking at the club. I’m so ashamed and upset that my issues leaked into your life, your friends’ lives. Carmine always bothered me but I couldn’t pin down why. Why would I? I wouldn’t have known him from anyone else in the MC. I was so naive to think that when Ezra was put in prison it was the end of our connection.

  I always did wonder why he didn’t care about the money. It makes sense, I guess, if it wasn’t his to care about really. I’m not sure what the Delanti family thought they’d get from me, though, it’s not as if the ATF would have let me, a civilian, keep the money. It was part of evidence. Maybe they knew I’d kill Ezra. Maybe I was a loose end, or he was, and either way it would pit us against each other and things would be tied up.

  It keeps me up at night. Round and round my mind goes trying to figure out why me? I was just a good girl, who made excellent grades who fell in love with a boy. I had normal dreams, fears, hopes. My entire being was altered the day I shot Cane by accident. I might have been able to come back from being raped, but Cane would have killed Ezra anyways. Locked away in prison and still not with me. What if I had shot Ezra, if Cane hadn’t walked in? Would we have run together? I’ll never know. No one will. That is a cold, hard, torturous truth. I’ve made progress, though. Cane loved me. I don’t question that and I had the opportunity to prove to him that he needn’t question my love either. I keep that close to me. That ring around my neck is the ring he bought me, the ring that was supposed to be our happily ever after. I find small bits of comfort in the fact that our love was true. That our circumstances didn’t break that love, not in the end.

  Demons. Monsters. They live inside my skin. I’m not happy talking to the therapist. She only wants to make me relive all my worst moments. Did you know I spent an entire year not letting anyone touch me? A brush of an arm sent me spiraling into a panic attack. I felt shame. Disgust. I couldn’t breathe. It’s painful to go back and let myself feel that way, even if it’s only to work through it.

  Bentley was the one to break through to me. He saved that part of me. I’m grateful for that. If he hadn’t, maybe I’d have never been at that bar the night we met. I’d have ne
ver have let you touch me. He held me at night when I was all alone in this new life here in Virginia. I knew he wanted more, he knew I didn’t, but he was all I had. He risked his career for me. He kept me grounded somehow.

  It feels like he did all that for you, too. No, that’s not right, more like, to build me up enough to lead me to you. I don’t want to be a face in the crowd anymore. A statistic. I’ve done that for so long. I’m tired. So exhausted from all the facades, emptiness, the cover stories. I’m ready to participate in life again. I think. I’ve been falling asleep by eight p.m. lately. How ridiculous is that? The therapy sessions wipe me out. Drain me of any leftover energy. I haven’t even worked out since I’ve come here. (gasp)

  Want to know a truth?

  I miss you right now.

  xx-Pepper”

  I set the letter aside and think about the words she’s written to me. My legs feel solid. Like concrete. There are things that she alluded to in the past that she outright spelled out for me in this letter. I had no idea she felt so isolated. My heart feels heavy, though. The letter leaves me hopeful, but also leaves a lot of questions in my head. I walk to the couch and fall back into it clutching the letter to my chest. She wrote to me.

  Chapter 34

  Week 2

  Twelve days. Twelve days of feeling up one second and below low the next. The house is spotless. My bike glistens even in the dark of night. The shop hasn’t looked so good since the week we opened. My truck smells brand new again. I’ve exhausted all my options for cleaning. I even raked and bagged all the leaves in the yard this week. I know this thirty-day deal has to happen. Obviously it is what’s best for Pepper, yet also I think it prevents me from falling victim to making past mistakes. With Clara, I didn’t give her room to breathe. I never gave her the chance to come to me, to want me. I gave her what I wanted to give and convinced myself that it was exactly what we both wanted and needed. It wasn’t. I can’t stand to think that I was walking the same path with Pepper. Our days apart have forced me to sit back and think about not only what I want, but how I want it. It’s amazing what clarity can come from a little dose of solitude.