“No,” I grit out viciously. “Fuck no.”
“Yes, Jonas. It’s time. One day, and for your sake, I hope it’s not too far away. I want you to be able to look back on what we had and smile. I want you to know that you were my best friend, and I loved you fiercely. I want you to know I would have fought for you; not just so we could be together, but for you when you weren’t strong enough to believe you could fight for yourself. Though, if there is one thing I hope you remember above everything else it would be that you were the first man I ever loved and will probably be the last. I might not be as strong as Avery, as beautiful as Beth, or as determined as Bella, but I know my own heart, and I know when I walk out that door I’m leaving it with you. Be happy, Jonas. However you can, be happy.”
Throwing myself out of my seat, I lunge at Blaine before she has the chance to walk out the door, taking any chance I have of that happiness she spoke of with her. I don’t succeed, though. Blaine shakes off my hand and keeps walking.
“Don’t. Just wait, Blaine. We can talk about this. We can talk this shit out,” I all but plead with her.
Smiling sadly over her should, Blaine replies,
“You have no idea how much I wish we could. Take care of yourself, Jonas, and find your way back to your brothers if you can. They need you, but more than that, you need them.”
“No, I need you,” I stress, finally admitting to her what I’ve denied for near on a decade. “They are my brothers, and I care about them, but I don’t need them, Blaine. There’s only one person on the face of this planet I need, and she’s walking out that door.”
Blaine doesn’t look back, and she doesn’t acknowledge she heard me, all her departure heralds is a soft snick of the door as she closes it on me and, in turn, us.
The bellow I release when what I’ve just lost sinks in is torn from the churning pit of my gut. It’s so deep, so raw, so ragged and filled with so much pain the likes I’ve never felt before.
Part of me wishes I chased after her, that I had the presence of mind follow her and demand we sort this shit out, or at least, she hears me out. I don’t know what I would have said, but I do know I would have promised, done, said anything to convince her I was worth waiting longer for.
The other part of me is acutely aware that nothing I would have done could have changed her mind. Blaine was done. She was fed up, used up; done. She needed time, and albeit I didn’t want to waste any more of it without her knowing exactly how I feel about her, I knew now wasn’t our time. I would need to engage the patience the military had instilled in me. Wait her out, plan, scheme, and finally, take action when she was least expecting it.
What I didn’t know, I couldn’t know, was that while I was busy feeling sorry for myself, Blaine was running from my shop, tears staining her unbelievably beautiful face, and her even more phenomenally beautiful heart was breaking.
Worse still, with every step she took, Blaine’s broken, shattered, decimated heart was hardening against me. Again, I didn’t know it then, but it would take an act of God, fate, Karma, who knows what to tear down the walls she was fortifying around her to protect herself.
Luckily for me, Karma realized before I did that I was due some good fortune. And as fucked up as it is, what happened next would change the course of both Blaine’s and my life. Not necessarily for the better at first, because honestly, what’s love without heartbreak first, but eventually Karma would see fit to cut through the bullshit and bring us back together in a way we would never be separated again.
CHAPTER FIVE
~ Blaine ~
“What do people do with all the extra time they save by writing “K” instead of “OK?””
- yourecards
I can’t tell you how it happened, how we got here – how I got here – but whoever said everything happens for a reason was either right or just fucking insane.
After I left Skin Fusion, destroyed, and I had only myself to blame, I sought out the one person I knew would make everything as okay as it could be. She didn’t have miracle cures or promises, but she loved me enough to let me cry on her shoulder until I could cry anymore.
“I’m gonna kill him,” Avery muttered angrily while stroking my hair. “I’m going to kill him slowly with a blunt spoon, and I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”
“Easy there, Tiger,” Fury grumbled from the kitchen of their enormous renovated farmhouse. “How about we ask Bee if she wants us to take him out before the spirit of homicide moves you to violence, yeah?”
God, I love Fury. Not just because he can be funny, which he most certainly can, but because I didn’t think it was possible to crack a smile, albeit small, while my heart was bleeding like this.
“You know, it doesn’t much matter what Bee says, I intend to gut him with my rusty, blunt spoon whether she likes it or not, Snookums,” Avery retorts acidly.
Her anger isn’t directed at her husband, it’s for me. All for me. That’s why I came to her in the first place. Because if there’s one thing I know, it’s that I can count on Avery to have my back no matter what.
My cousin has always been my most fierce champion. Regardless of what we’ve been through, and we’ve been through a lot, I’ve always had Avery’s love and loyalty to rely on.
When I didn’t feel I could stand up for myself at school, to my brothers, to my parents when I wanted to move to Furnace; Avery was right beside me propping me up. When I wanted to go on a date with the Wide Receiver of our high school football team and my brothers systematically – along with my Dad – lost their minds; Avery was helping me sneak out my bedroom window, smuggling date appropriate clothes in a backpack for me. No matter what, she’s been there for me, and this time is no different.
“I don’t want him dead, Avery,” I mumble pathetically. “Injured maybe, but not dead.”
“I can do injured. I can do injured really well. Just let me get the crossbow Sarge got me for my birthday and I’ll do injured like a boss,” she nods as if she’s actually considering it.
Throwing Fury, a grimace of a smile over my shoulder, I announce,
“It’s probably a good idea if you go and hide the grown up toys now. Zena Warrior Princess here is about to get her hunt on.”
“You touch my bow, and I’ll cut you off for a week. I mean it, Tanner, no touchy,” Avery scowls at him, finger pointing and all.
“I’ll take those odds, baby, because there’s one thing I know about you and that’s, you want my cock in you even more than I want it there,” he smirks in return.
“He’s got me there,” she huffs, slumping back into the cushion of the couch beside me. “No way could I follow through with that threat. Help me out here, Bee. I need something better, something I can, in reality, carry out as punishment.”
“Nope,” I groan, “leave me out of it. It’s bad enough having to hear about my best friends’ sex life, let alone helping her come up with creative ways of punishing her man. Thanks, but no thanks. You’re on your own with this one.”
“A lot of good you are,” Avery mock snarls.
“You should be counting your blessings your cousin is here right now, baby, because if she wasn’t, I’d tan your sweet ass for even think about shutting me out of your pussy,” Fury grins unrepentantly.
“Eww, gross. Can you guys table this conversation for later please, like, say, when I’m not in the room? Better yet, when I’m not in the house?” I ask, knowing that if I don’t put a stop to this, it’s only going to get worse.
“Sorry, Blaine,” Fury says still grinning widely at me. “You want to stay for dinner?”
“Of course she’s staying for dinner, babe. In fact, why don’t you stay the night? It’ll be like old times. Sleepover, ice cream, facials, whatever you want,” Avery offers.
“Thanks, but that would be another negatory. I’ve got to get home, some of us work in the morning you know?”
“Sure, work. I remember once upon a time what that was,” Avery says wistfully.
When Avery and Fury got married last month, Fury promptly demanded she quit working at the daycare center and focus on making one of their own little hellions instead of taking care of other people's every day. I’d like to say, my best friend was thrilled with the idea of having her own bundle of joy, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.
At his demand, Avery all but threatened to castrate Fury if he knocked her up before they had been married a year. In return, Fury dumped her birth control pills in the toilet, flushed, and then set about methodically searching their house for each and every last condom before burning them in a ritual sacrifice to the fertility Gods. To say Avery was pleased was like saying men enjoy rectal exams. In other words, my best friend was less than impressed.
“I’ll admit I don’t miss wiping runny noses or corralling a dozen feral three-year-olds, but I do miss watching their faces when I taught them something new.”
“Offers on the table, baby. Any time you’re ready to start trying for our own, I’m more than happy to put in the hard work it takes to make one.” You can hear the smile in Fury’s voice, and that, in turn, makes me laugh.
He would make an amazing father, and my best friend knows it. I don’t know what’s holding her back other than wanting to build on what they’ve already got before introducing children to the mix. But whatever it is, I hope she pulls her head out of her ass soon and sees how lucky she is to have a man willing to hand her the world on a silver platter.
Not that I’m saying Avery’s ungrateful; she’s not. She knows what she has in Fury, and she treasures it. I just suppose I thought that after everything she went through Avery would realize life is short, and there’s no time like the present. Cliché, sure, but no less correct.
I stayed another hour after the conversation turned to babies and nursery upgrades before calling it a night. I know they weren’t doing it to be cruel, but when you’ve just walked away from the only man you would have considered having babies with, that shit is not something you want to hear.
Avery made me promise to check in with her when I got home and again before I went to bed, which I quickly agreed to, and in return, she promised not to carry out any form of mutilation toward the man in question. It wasn’t a huge win, but at least Jonas would live to see another day.
After that, Avery made no promises as to what she would do the next time she saw him, and strangely, I was okay with that. Not because I wanted to see Jonas hurt, but I can’t deny part of me wouldn’t mind all that much if Avery took a shot at kicking his ass. She wouldn’t succeed, but it’d be fun to watch her try.
The drive home wasn’t anywhere near long enough, and if I were paying attention, I never would have parked and got out of the car when I got to the apartment Bella and I share.
Bella wasn’t going to be home tonight, which wasn’t a bad thing. It was going to be hard enough living with the sister of the man I was in love with, let alone having her see me after he’d so recently broken my heart.
Don’t get me wrong, Jonas is only partly to blame. I did this. I told him I couldn’t wait for him anymore. That part is on me. The rest, though? That’s all him. He drove me to make the choice for us. All he would have had to do to make me change my mind was give me hope. It wouldn’t have mattered if it were only a fleeting glance at the man he once was, I would have taken it and kept fighting, but he didn’t. He gave me nothing, and in return, I was forced to close a door I wanted desperately to keep open. For him and for me.
Lost in a haze of self-inflicted sorrow and regret, I slung my purse over my shoulder and hoofed it out of the car, making my way to the landing of my apartment before realizing anyone was there.
The heavy hand on my shoulder had me jerking back and positioning my body to defend myself if I had to. I didn’t, though.
“Holy shit,” I breathe. “You scared the absolute crap out of me,” I add, looking at the man who had no business darkening my door.
“Didn’t mean to scare you, baby, but we’ve got to talk,” his deliciously rich rumble echoes off the walls.
Sighing and praying for strength I don’t have, I try to be diplomatic,
“We have nothing to talk about, Jonas.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he rasps against the skin of my neck. “We’ve got plenty to talk about, but if you don’t want to talk, then you can just listen. I’d prefer that anyway. You had your say, now I’m gonna have mine.”
Inserting the key in the lock, I turn and push the door open. Knowing he’s directly behind me, not giving me the barest hint of space, I deposit my purse on the end table beside the couch and turn to face him.
“Five minutes, Jonas,” I warn. “Then I want you to leave whether you’ve said your piece or not.”
I shouldn’t even be giving him that, Avery would rally. But my Mom was right, I’m too soft for my own good.
“I’ll take it,” Jonas accepts. “Can we sit or do you wanna do this standing here staring at each other?”
“Sure, have at it,” I gesture to the couch and loveseat in our – now that Avery is gone – sparsely furnished living room.
When Avery moved out and in with Fury, both Bella and I told her to take her mismatched, garage sale, hippy “statement pieces” with her. That was Avery’s description of the not-so-inspired décor, not ours. If you ask Bella, she’d call it shabby-chic, heavy on the shabby. And me? Well, as far as I’m concerned, the less clutter, the better. Someone has to clean all that crap, you know, and it was more than likely me wielding the dust rag.
Now the open-plan apartment is minimalistic with a “touch of class” according to my new roommate. What Bella really means is, we have jack all, and we like it like that. Unless you count the new dish towels, she bought out of desperation that is. Because honestly, buying them exhausted Bella’s class quotient all in one foul swoop.
Not that Bella isn’t classy in her own way; she most definitely is. It’s simply that she reserves that class for what she wears on her feet and her body. Again, this is purely according to her.
I could care less the state of our apartment as long as it’s clean, that was the only caveat I put on her moving in. Bella picks up after herself, cleans her own bathroom, and tidies the kitchen after she’s finished experimenting with whatever new concoction has taken her fancy that week. For now, this has worked out okay, I am, however, waiting for the other shoe to fall eventually. The living room being the first of the rooms to fall victim to Bella’s prolific untidiness.
Jonas doesn’t disappoint me, picking a spot right in the middle of the couch leaving very few options available to me. The loveseat against the far wall nearest the windows is covered with his sisters unfolded laundry, and one-half of the six-person sectional couch is cluttered with magazines Bella has been collecting while she fights it out with her Mom and sister over redecorating the aging diner they own.
Biting the bullet, I chose to sit on the coffee table across from Jonas instead of beside him. This gives me ample opportunity for escape if need be, and I need that right now. An out.
“I want you to know I heard everything you said back at the shop, and I didn’t follow you then, not because I didn’t want to, but because I knew that’s not what you wanted,” he begins. “It fucking killed me to let you leave like that, with tears in your eyes, and your pain leaking into the space you put between us.”
Fidgeting with the hem of my t-shirt, I wait and listen. It isn’t often Jonas talk more than a few words or sentences at best, but when he does, most of the time, he’s worth paying attention to.
Jonas runs his hands through the nearly non-existent hair starting to grow on the top of his usually shaved-bald head irritably. I know this is hard for him, it was even worse for me, but I’m not giving him an out by guiding this conversation to its inevitable conclusion. This is his show, I’m just a bystander this time.
“Don’t know what you want me
to say, baby, but I’m going to try and give you what you need,” he states hesitantly.
That’s something new too. Hesitation. The Jonas of old was straightforward and didn’t beat around the bush, sometimes tactlessly so, but that was just another thing I loved about him. He was so sure of himself, so confident and commanding. By his presence alone you knew Jonas was a powerful man, his sheer size notwithstanding.
Forging ahead, he continues saying,
“Me shutting myself in my head, in my apartment, and off from you was fucked, I get that. I won’t deny I needed time, needed to get my shit straight, but I should have done that with you, not without you. All I can say is, I didn’t think you’d want to hear about the relationship I had with another woman while you were patiently waiting on the sidelines for me to come to my senses.”
Now that does shock me. Not Jonas being aware I was waiting all these years for him, but his thinking about how I would feel being faced with the gritty details of his and Bec’s relationship.
Vengeance MC Box Set - Volume 1: Call Me...Vengeance ~ Fury ~ Jonas Page 67