Vengeance MC Box Set - Volume 1: Call Me...Vengeance ~ Fury ~ Jonas

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Vengeance MC Box Set - Volume 1: Call Me...Vengeance ~ Fury ~ Jonas Page 44

by Natasha Thomas

What do I say to that? Nothing, because he’s right. I do want to hear his excuses even though rationally I know that’s what they are. I also can’t bring myself to yell at him and demand he leaves. There’s something about his presence I find soothing. Just knowing that he’s here, with me, in my house is calming. I feel safe. Not that I’ll tell him as much. The man has a big enough ego as it is.

  At my silence, Fury chuckles, sending sparks of awareness skittering down my spine causing goosebumps to rise on the skin of my arms.

  “I hate I wasn’t around when you were hurting and needed someone to lean on baby, but you shut me out. You wouldn’t talk, not just to me, but to anyone. I was going fucking crazy pacing outside your room night and day, and I knew if I didn’t put some distance between me and your door, I would have kicked the fucker in and made everything worse. You weren’t in the right frame of mind to be dealing with me and my baggage, you’d been through enough and were trying to heal. Because that’s what it was, babe. My shit.”

  I never questioned that aspect of why he left. I was fully aware he’d lost his family when he was a young boy, followed by his grandparents and then his wife. Seeing another person he cares about hurt had to have been hard for him, but it doesn’t explain why he didn’t check in like he promised.

  “I heard what you said that day, you know?” I begin cautiously. “I heard every word. You promised to call every day, text, keep in contact somehow but I never heard from you. Why?”

  Fury rolls me over so that I’m facing him so quickly it draws a gasp from me. Now, we’re almost nose to nose, his eyes scanning my face and his expression soft.

  “Too hard, Ave. It killed me to leave you, but it would have torn me apart if I’d heard you crying on the end of the phone. There’s no way to explain this without it making me sound like an asshole, but it is what it is. I couldn’t handle texting you and having you reply that you needed me, and I wouldn’t have been able to control my reaction to you breaking down over the phone. To be honest, I wouldn’t have known what to say if you had. I barely know now. At least, when I’m here, I can hold you, dry your tears, sit with you until you come out the other side of it. Away from you? There was fuck all I could do, and that would have destroyed me more than seeing you broken like you were. It was a shit thing to do, I was a fucking coward to turn my back on you, but at the time, I thought it was for the best.”

  Allowing his words to sink in, I consider all he’s said and hiss,

  “Bullshit.”

  “What?” He rasps.

  “I said, bullshit. You leaving had nothing to do with me and how damaged I was, and everything to do with how you felt about it. Don’t pretend that it was some altruistic move on your part because it wasn’t. Bones heal, Fury. Scars fade. It was only a matter of time before the bruises were gone and the cuts had healed. Granted, my head was fucked up for way longer, but eventually, I was going to recover.”

  Wrenching myself backward, putting much-needed distance between us, I continue.

  “The thing is; you were my friend. One of my closest friends. Even if it was silent, I needed your support. In the beginning, I tried to rationalize it. I even had myself half convinced that your reason for leaving was just. After what you’d been through yourself, losing everyone close to you, I believed just like you did that distance was what you needed. But it was months, Fury. Months. Not days, or weeks, fucking months. And after a handful of them, I came to the conclusion that you’d lied to me. Not about keeping in touch,” I say as he goes to speak, “but about why you left in the first place. My ordeal stirred up bad memories for you. It had nothing to do with how badly injured I was, or what happened to me because you didn’t hang around long enough to find out the extent of what had happened. You had left before you knew the details. All of this, everything you did was because you couldn’t handle having to face your demons. So don’t look me in the eyes and lie to me, Fury. I’ve been fed all the lies I can handle in this lifetime and the next.”

  With that, I scoot to the edge of the bed and fling my legs over the side before he can stop me. Standing beside my bed, I look down at him and take in the expression on his face. It’s a mixture of anger, guilt, and remorse. And I hate it.

  I hate that I was right. None of why he left had anything to do with protecting me, but purely because he was too gutless to stay and fight. Not even for me, but fight his way through the demons he’d acquired throughout his life.

  I’m not an evil person. I feel compassion, sympathy, and concern just like anyone else. But what I don’t and won’t tolerate is people playing on those feelings. Because that’s what he did; Fury manipulated me. He took those good character traits of my personality and turned them into weaknesses. In essence, he preyed on the fact that I’d blindly believe his lies and make excuses for him. And I did. I did exactly what he thought I would.

  Inching toward my bathroom – the only room in my apartment with a lock on it, if you don’t include the front door that is – Fury moves faster than I’d anticipated. His hands go to my hips as he uses his powerful body to push me up against the wall, effectively cutting off my escape.

  Dipping his mouth to my ear, he growls,

  “Don’t mistake me sharing some of the details of my life with you as you knowing everything there is to know about me, Avery. What you know is only the tip of the fucking iceberg, and I don’t appreciate you making judgments on shit you don’t have the first clue about. Do you think because you know my family died in a house fire, my grandparents passed, and my wife was murdered that makes you the authority when it comes to what I’ve lost? It doesn’t. And if you think that because I don’t talk about that shit, I don’t sit around a camp fire sharing my feelings I haven’t dealt with it, you’d be wrong again. I came to terms with it years ago. That doesn’t mean it hurts less or the pain will ever go away, but I can live with it.”

  Pressing a hand against the hard wall of muscle that makes up his chest, I demand,

  “Step back.”

  “No,” he snarls. “Not going to happen. Every time I give you an inch, you find another way to push me away and shut me out. Until you hear me out, you’re going to stay here where I can control, at least, your body’s reaction to what I have to say. Might not be able to stop your brain from taking a detour to crazy town, but I can sure as hell keep you from running off.”

  Glaring at him, I raise my other hand, placing it on his chest and giving him a firm shove, but he doesn’t waver.

  “Nuh-uh. No way. I don’t think so buddy. You can’t hold me here against my will.”

  Grinning at me, Fury says,

  “Abso-fucking-lutely, I can,” taking both of my hands in his, pinning them to the wall by my sides. “I already admitted I did wrong by you. I was an asshole and I made a mistake, which I’ve apologized for. There aren’t many more ways I can say I’m sorry, Ave, but even if there were, you wouldn’t want to hear them. And even though I’ve explained why I didn’t keep in touch with you while I was gone, you’ve found a way to twist my words to mean something entirely different. The truth is, it was better that way. You might not believe me now, or ever, but it was. I wouldn’t have been any good to you. I would have wrapped you in cotton wool so nothing could ever hurt you again, and that would’ve held you back. There’s no fucking way you would have come as far as you have because I would’ve unintentionally gotten in the way of you making any real progress the first time you broke down. I want nothing more than for you to find it in your heart to forgive me. And I can’t promise that I won’t ever hurt you again, but I can promise I’ll try my hardest not to.”

  I want to believe him, I really do, but I don’t know if I can. He hurt me terribly. He broke my trust, and that’s not something I give lightly. Growing up in an MC, I learned how fragile trust truly is. Once it’s broken, it’s almost impossible to resurrect. That doesn’t mean I don’t believe in second chances, I do. Fury, however, did such an outstanding job of destroying the faith I put in him that I
don’t know if we can come back from that.

  Searching his eyes and seeing the pain in them, I know he’s being truthful, but that doesn’t erase the pain he caused me.

  “I need time to think about everything you’ve said,” I whisper. “It’s a lot to take in, and you can’t expect me to just forgive you because you’ve finally decided to share that with me.”

  “How much time?” He asks gruffly, his lips grazing the shell of my ear.

  An involuntary shudder wracks my body as his soft lips continue their journey south, caressing the sensitive skin of my neck. Stammering, I reply,

  “A-a-a week. Maybe two?”

  It comes out sounding more like a question, which only serves to amuse him.

  “You don’t seem so sure about that, babe. How about we negotiate? I’ll give you four days, and you give me a kiss?”

  “No,” I gasp when he nips the flesh of my shoulder through my shirt. “Ten days,” I counter.

  “Five days, and I still want a kiss,” he offers kissing my jaw.

  “Eight, and there will be no kissing.” Why in God’s name am I negotiating with him at all, I ponder as Fury continues to smile against my skin.

  A growl escapes his throat when he rasps,

  “Six days. That’s my final offer, Ave. And don’t think for a fucking second I’m leaving this room without tasting those sweet lips again.”

  That does it. Huffing out my frustration, I snap,

  “A week, and no less. And will you give it up about the kiss. It’s not going to happen, big guy.”

  I should have known he’d take that as a challenge, but like everything else when Fury’s around, my brain turns to mush.

  “Oh, but it is,” he says grinning wolfishly at me.

  Fury doesn’t waste another moment talking. Instead, he crushes his mouth to mine in a soul-searing kiss that I won’t soon forget.

  It’s all lips and tongues as he moves his mouth sensuously across mine, coaxing it to open for him. And like the brazen hussy I am, I do. Stroking his tongue with mine, I taste, nip, and devour him. Fury countering with bold strokes of his own.

  When we’re both panting, gasping for breath, Fury lifts his head and locks his eyes with mine. The sky-blue color I love so much is darker, hazy with passion, and I have to admit, it’s a good look on him.

  Gently brushing the pad of his thumb across the apple of my cheek, Fury's voice is rich and deep, rumbling in his chest as he says,

  “Seven days and I’m knocking on your front door, Avery. Don’t bother trying to hide from me either because if I have to find you, I’m going to spank your gorgeous ass red.”

  *****

  Hours after Fury left, Blaine and I are relaxing on the couch watching re-runs of House when she asks,

  “What are you going to do, Avery?”

  Distractedly, I mutter,

  “About what? The fact that Neanderthal man is a demanding jerk off, or how quickly I can change my identity, have facial reconstruction surgery, and flee the country?”

  An M&M flies past me, narrowly missing my eye, landing on the cushion beside me. Picking it up and popping it in my mouth, I grin at her.

  “You’re such a pain in the ass sometimes. What I meant was; what are you going to do a week from now when he comes back? You have to know he’s going to. Men like him don’t give up, Avery. They keep coming, knocking down your defenses until they wrap themselves around you so that you can never shake them loose. Pick any of our parents as an example. Do you think your Dad would give up on your Mom if she decided to hold a grudge against him? Hell no. He’d batter her walls down until they were rubble, and make her change her mind. No if’s and’s or but’s about it,” she huffs dramatically.

  “You, oh wise one speak the truth, but that doesn’t take into account the fact that I have something they don’t.”

  “And what pray tell is that, oh naïve one?” Blaine grins back at me, crossing her legs underneath her.

  “A secret weapon of course,” I reply smugly.

  “Just saying; there is never an excuse to use nukes to win a sword fight. I know you, and I know that grin. You’re up to something, or you wouldn’t have given in and negotiated with him in the first place.”

  And how right she is. Blaine knows me too well.

  “Look, the way I see it, I can’t overpower him, I can’t shoot him, and I can’t convince him he’s wasting his time. The only thing I can do is use what I have at my disposal and that is, Bella,” I say giving her my best evil smile.

  Throwing her hands up in the air, admitting defeat, Blaine scoffs,

  “Oh, he’s going to kick your ass if you let her loose on him. She’s worse than a bad case of crabs. He’ll never get rid of her.” Twisting so that she’s facing me head on, Blaine warns, “Be one hundred percent sure of this, Avery because if you let the Kraken loose, you’ll never be able to control the outcome.”

  Honestly, how does she expect me to take her seriously when she says shit like that?

  Laughing at her apt description of Bella’s temper, I reply,

  “He’s not leaving me with much of a choice, B. Either I wait with bated breath by the door a week from now, knowing full well the only acceptable response from me is my forgiveness. Or, I engage Bella and tell her to do her worst. He has it coming anyway. She’s been dying to give Fury a piece of her mind since he rode back into town this morning. He’s just lucky I held her back. Consider this his belated welcome home gift from me to him.”

  “Oh, boy,” Blaine mumbles. “I do not see good things, chicky. Not at all.”

  I don’t either, but a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do. Let the games begin.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ~ Fury ~

  “If her answer is. why would you say that; I’m not sure what you mean; or can you repeat that; it’s a setup. My only advice; run and hide.”

  - Fury’s secret thoughts

  Three days, fifteen hours, and thirty-seven minutes and it feels like it’s been a lifetime since I left Avery’s apartment last Friday.

  When I showed up, I hadn’t intended on leaving without explaining myself well enough to earn her forgiveness, but it didn’t work out that way. I definitely didn’t expect our conversation to end in negotiations followed by the single best kiss I’ve ever experienced either. But when I looked into her gorgeous green eyes full of desperation and anxiousness, I folded like a deck of cards and gave her a reprieve. Albeit a short one, but it was a reprieve nevertheless – something I’ve never given to anyone else.

  From the second my boot crossed the threshold at the clubhouse to now, it feels like every brother, old lady, and club whore has wanted a minute of my time.

  Welcome home drinks that night turned into an alcohol-fueled party, which ran over into the early hours of Saturday morning, and resumed later that afternoon for anyone who’d missed out on the first go around. Not before we were all awakened for church by Beth banging a couple of pots together to get our asses up, mind you.

  “Take a seat brothers. Let’s get this shit done so I can convince my old lady to let me get another few hours of shut eye before tonight,” Boss grumbles over the rim of his coffee cup.

  Murmurs of agreement sound around the room before, Diesel groans,

  “Why the hell did you have to schedule this shit for so early anyway? We don’t have anything pressing to go over.”

  “How the fuck would you know?” Gage barks. “You’re never fucking here to know what’s going on.”

  Diesel goes to reply, but Boss bangs the gavel demanding,

  “Shut the fuck up the both of you. My head is pounding, I’ve got the mother of all hang over’s and the last thing I need is you two bitching at each other like little girls.” Turning to Diesel, he adds, “He’s not wrong, though. You and I need to have words after this is done, so hang back, yeah?”

  This has been a long time coming, and to be honest, I’m surprised Boss hasn’t spoken up about Diesel’s almos
t complete desertion earlier. Put it this way; I’d hate to be in his shoes when Boss reams him a new asshole later. Deserving or not, our Prez isn’t known for handling situations with tact.

  “Right, before we get on to new business, anyone have anything to add in regards to the plans I submitted during last meeting for the renovation to the motel?”

  Over a round of drinks at the bar last night, Cash brought me up to speed on the clubs’ newest acquisition. It wasn’t something I would have voted ‘aye’ to, but at the end of the day, if it makes us money and I’m not expected to work that project, I’m not entirely opposed to it.

  “Went over the figures again,” Cash pipes up. “Far as I can see, it isn’t going to eat into more than three months’ worth of profits from the new garage in Boulder, so if we’re all agreed, I’ll have the crew start work on Monday.”

  Cash was given the position as Vengeance’s treasurer four years after receiving his full patch – going on ten years now. He does a damn good job too.

  After his and Jump’s Mom had died of a suspicious drug overdose just before he turned seventeen, Cash worked hard to keep him and his brother together, and out of the foster care system.

 

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