“Most things are now.”
Well, she wasn’t wrong, so I admitted, “When my head is at, we only just broke up.”
“You were together?”
“For quite a while. We served in the 10th Mountain Division together. That was how we met.”
“I didn’t know that.”
The tension in her voice told me she didn’t like knowing it either.
Amused that she could be jealous when being in the same room as Lodestar made my skin crawl, I shoved that aside and asked, “What were you going to say? What about Lodestar?”
“What have the brothers told you about that night?” she hedged.
“Not a lot, to be honest. I haven’t given them much of an opportunity to talk to me.”
She sighed. “I don’t know if I should be the one to share this with you, Maverick. I don’t have all the facts.”
“You have more facts than I do, and you can tell me what you know. I’m a big boy, Alessa” —another sucked in breath— “I know what I can and can’t handle, and I can always talk to them once I have some foundations down. The worst thing is knowing that there’s a whole conversation going on around me and I’m not allowed to hear it.”
“Yes,” she said softly, “that must be awful.”
“It is. It’s more of a handicap than you can imagine.” I cleared my throat. “I’d appreciate you telling me what you know. Be it a little or a lot, I’d appreciate it either way.”
I turned my head so I could look at her and found myself entangled in her gaze as she was staring right at me. The pain between my ears disappeared some as my focus shifted, ensnared by those beautiful jade eyes peeking at me.
She reminded me a little of a fairy, her features diminutive but ethereal. Fragile but high cheeks, rounded brows that gleamed gold no matter if it was under the sun, the moon, or just a lamp. Her hair was wispy, somehow, but it looked like it was getting thicker. As if she’d been sick for a while, which fit because she was crazy thin. I’d watched her eat a sandwich, and it had taken her a painful amount of time.
With her delicate bone structure, she might have seemed childlike, but there was something about her that got to me. Maybe it was the kid in me who’d had a crush on Tinkerbell, but she was life-sized and definitely an adult.
She was also the direct opposite of me. I was rough and jaded where she screamed a sweet innocence that made me want to protect her even as I wanted to push her away, which made things damn complicated.
Sighing at the thought, and wondering if I’d been sent this fairy because I wasn’t supposed to die just yet—it wasn’t as if I had a death wish, but I figured what I was going through would make a saint curse until the air was blue—I murmured, “Are you going to help me, Alessa?”
For a second, she bit her lip, the plump pad compressing under the firm bite, then she appeared to come to a decision because she whispered, “Lily’s father was an enemy of the club. It caused issues with the Italians because he worked with them.”
“The MC’s at war with the Famiglia?” I queried, brow furrowing. Fucking Italians.
She nodded.
“They’re who blew up the compound?”
“I mean, I think so. Who else would do something so crazy?”
I hummed under my breath, thinking she’d be surprised at how many fucking nutcases there were in this world.
“Either way, Lodestar appeared to know something was going to happen that particular night. She was on the roof, and when the blast hit, she was hurled to the ground.”
“Hence her injuries.” I pondered that. “She’s lucky to be alive.” Even with our training, specialized deployments and landings in rough terrain, the clubhouse was fucking high off the ground when you were being hurled into the sky and were landing with no parachute.
“You asked her why she was on the roof, and she told you things that I probably shouldn’t have heard.” She dipped her chin. “She said the gate to the compound was open, that someone had opened it, and that a sniper was waiting out in the distance. He was the one who set off the blast.”
“That conversation prompted me to return to the clubhouse?”
“You wanted to make sure the hard drives were destroyed so the FBI couldn’t get any data from them.”
“As well as find out if there was any CCTV footage of whoever opened the gate?”
“Yes. Lodestar also gave you a guesstimate of where the sniper’s—” She broke off.
“Sniper’s?”
“I can’t remember the word. I want to say where a bird makes its home, but that can’t be right.”
My lips twitched. “It can, actually. A sniper has a nest.” Allowing my mind to drift for a little while, I murmured, “Did any of the brothers know this?”
“No, and you told Lodestar not to say anything because you told her she’d get tossed out of the MC if the council learned she’d been aware of a potential threat to the compound and she didn’t keep them in the loop.”
Mouth tightening, I rasped, “She’s as treacherous as ever.”
“No, she was trying to protect the compound, but she said the intel she had wasn’t reliable.” She cleared her throat. “To be honest, Mav, she appeared quite truthful and you believed her. I don’t think you’d have told her to stay quiet if you didn’t think she was trustworthy.”
I understood why she thought that, but it still baffled me to believe that I gave that bitch any trust whatsoever.
The harder I started thinking, the more the dull throb in my head pounded, so taking it as an equation that thinking caused me pain, I rumbled, “I need to get some rest.”
“You do,” she agreed.
“Tomorrow, I need you to help me.”
“Me? Why?”
I sighed. “Apparently, Future Maverick likes that cunt, and even if I don’t, I’m going to have faith in him and in you—”
“Oh, dear,” she muttered miserably. “Please don’t. I don’t want to get into trouble.”
A surprised laugh escaped me. “Trouble? We’re not in school, Alessa. Even if you did mess up, what do you think I’d do? Make you stand in the corner?”
Something darkened in her eyes, and it wasn’t arousal.
I tilted my head to the side, which had a lightning bolt of pain spearing me to the quick. A breathless moan escaped me as I reached up and cupped my skull, supporting it as much as I was able.
I couldn’t say a word, couldn’t even take a proper inhalation as she somehow got me into a sitting position then helped me onto my feet. I wanted to tell her that Link said he’d help, but even though I managed to choke out my brother’s name, she ignored me, seeming determined to help me do this by herself.
By the time we were staggering toward the poolhouse which, thank fuck, was only a short walk down a small path, she was breathing hard and her skin was dewy with perspiration. As for me, I was barely breathing period, because if I did, it hurt.
Jesus.
Feeling like fucking crying when we made it inside the small building, I let her guide me into the bedroom. As we arrived at the side of the bed, she stunned me by letting go of me before dragging down my wet boxer briefs and dumping them on the ground. Then, she deposited me with as much care as she was able—and that wasn’t much—onto the mattress. Not that I could blame her.
As the agony lit my nerves on fire, I curled into a fetal ball. In my misery, I didn’t even think about her, she didn’t even enter my head, until I felt her warmth at my back.
She curved herself around me, fitting every line of her form against me so she touched me from head to toe. When her arm moved over my belly, I didn’t flinch away. Maybe I’d have preferred for Nic to be the one holding me, to be the one soothing me, but not only could I not have him, I was just grateful not to be alone.
Maybe I deserved for her to abandon me, but she didn’t.
Which was the exact moment when I knew Alessa Ravenwood, for all that she was a stranger to me, was a keeper.
And the MC brat in me t
ook whatever he found in true finders keepers fashion…
Thirteen
Alessa
“We shouldn’t be out here,” I grumbled, as I’d been grumbling since Maverick had first woken up this morning and urged me to pepper Lodestar for information on the exact location of the sniper’s nest.
I’d always known he was stubborn, but this was taking things to another ridiculous degree.
He was in pain, his face was drawn with it, but here we were, in the middle of a field on the Sinners’ compound.
In the distance, there were construction noises as the place had been cleared of rubble from the blast and brothers from all over the country had come in to help the original chapter.
It was, to my mind anyway, proof that the MC was just an unorthodox community, with everyone pulling together no matter the distance between each ‘family.’ I liked that, and it confirmed once more that the brothers were good people.
Even good folk got their hands dirty, didn’t they?
Overhead, the sky was a bright blue, and the clouds were like cotton, wispy and filmy, not enough to give much cover from the heat of the sun. I knew that had to be hurting Maverick’s eyes because even though they were decidedly feminine in style, he had asked me if he could borrow my shades. It meant I was squinting but he was in agony, and I couldn’t bear to see that, so I gave them to him.
I almost wished I was a girly-girl and had picked ones in the shape of flowers or something because that would have been worthy of a photo. My big, dark, mean biker of a husband wearing flower-power sunglasses. Ha.
Technically, I didn’t have a license, but that hadn’t stopped Maverick from urging me into a pickup truck this morning. It had been outside in Lily’s front yard, and as usual, there were keys in the ignition.
I’d noticed that before. The MC guarded their bikes like they were the lost treasure of the Templars, but their cages, as they called them, they barely secured at all. Their way of storing the keys was just to leave them where they were needed, uncaring that each truck was worth a small fortune.
At least, they were to me.
Apparently not to the brothers.
I wasn’t used to driving automatic, having driven manual back in Ukraine before, well, before when I’d lived there, and though it was easier, it was also harder because though the signs were universal, they were different, and I was out of practice, not having been behind the wheel since I was nineteen. At least the U.S. drove on the right like back home, otherwise it would have been a nightmare.
It had been made a thousand times worse when, with every bend I took, or every stop light I braked at, Maverick had bitten off a tight groan. He’d attempted to haul it back in, to withhold his pain, but I’d heard—it was too late.
But Maverick was a forceful man, and I simply wasn’t trained that way.
Compliance was rewarded with less pain.
Outright rebellion was rewarded with agony.
How was I supposed to go against five years’ worth of training, training that was tied to corporal punishment, to save Maverick from himself?
As he bent over, his hands on his knees as he tried to get his breath back, I accepted I’d have to do something.
He was, after all, a man.
And men were stupid sometimes.
Moving over to him, I stepped through the low brush that scratched my calves with every step.
“We need to go back,” I told him, trying to add some power to my voice, but he ignored it and me.
“I’m fine.”
“Yes, you look fine,” I retorted, and if I sounded waspish, then so be it. “Bent over at the waist like that, you’re lucky I don’t want to kick you because you’d be flat on your face if I did.”
He twisted a little to peer at me over his borrowed sunglasses. “You’d do that?”
That he was wary amused me.
As if I could push a man of his size and stature over. Even though he was quite lean, what there was of him was muscle. Hard and packed. Hadn’t I felt the proof of that against me last night when I’d curved into him?
I’d done it for selfish reasons.
I needed to sleep, and he smelled like Mav even if he wasn’t actually my Mav.
I thought he’d rested too, because I hadn’t awoken with a forearm clamped to my throat, neither had I suffered a random assault thanks to whatever nightmare he’d endured.
Both of us had slept, but he’d awoken first as he tried to clamber off the bed, before he’d fallen back, panting, sweat popping out of every pore in response to the dumb move.
I’d had to help him use the bathroom—well, I mean, I hadn’t had to touch him—more like just maneuver him into a standing position all while trying to avoid glancing at his penis.
Why was it when you tried to avoid something, you ended up seeing more of it than ever?
He hadn’t had an erection at any point of the exercise, even though that was how men woke up, and I knew he could get them because I’d felt them before when we slept together. He’d tried to hide his response, but he was quite big and there was no hiding that.
When he refused to sit down which made far more sense in my opinion when he could barely stand, I’d given him some privacy. Only, when I’d returned to find him standing with both hands braced on the wall, leaning over like even that was too much for him, I’d maneuvered him into the shower where there was a bench.
After, I’d put some of my training to good use, and I’d cleaned him then I massaged his shoulders and back, carefully tending to his head as well.
As I worked, I found far too much pleasure in touching him when I’d always been revolted by massaging past owners, and when I’d come across a large tattoo on his shoulder, in the center of his back, I didn’t have to wonder how I’d missed it. Well, missed that on top of all the various others that decorated his spine including a portrait of a beautiful woman whose tragic eyes had been portrayed to perfection, as well as a very dark design that reminded me of a paisley pattern on a scarf my grandmother used to wear for church.
Seeing how he pretty much lived in his cut, it made sense I hadn’t seen these as the leather vest kept that wall of flesh hidden from sight. I was used to seeing his defined torso with all its scars and ragged flesh that had fused together badly, but the tattoo fascinated me because I knew what it represented.
There was a kind of knife that reminded me of those bowie knives hunters used. It thrust upward with two crossed arrows behind it. Then, in a kind of ribbon that swirled around it, there was the declaration, ‘De oppresso liber.’
Ever since, I’d been thinking about it, thinking about having the right to touch his back, to touch him, but even as I’d found pleasure in the act, I regretted easing his pain now.
Not only because the feel of him beneath my hands was delicious to the point of agony, but because it had made him feel better, which had led to this moment.
Him being a fool.
As I thought about his long, strong body, the pressure of his hard muscles against my palms, I decided that the only way to help him was to give him another massage. It was awkward with his position, and I knew it couldn’t be helping his head to be dangling over the way he was, so I tried to get him onto his knees.
He was desperate enough that he managed to help me help him, and he stunned me by pushing his forehead into my stomach and wrapping his arms around my legs as I started to give him an Indian head massage.
It was wrong of me, but when he moaned, his breath burned me through the thin cotton of my shirt, and the vibration of it set my skin alight in response. As I rubbed his temples, making gentle circles as I tried to ease his pain, I attempted to focus on anything but those moans which made me feel like I was going to leap out of my skin.
I’d feared that any sexuality I might have had had been robbed from me by the men who’d owned me, but as I stood there, in the middle of a field, construction work in the distance, the scent of smoke still in the air from the blast, and my husba
nd driven to his knees from pain, I realized there was a kernel of something deep inside me.
A something that Maverick held the key to.
And if now wasn’t a terrible time to realize that, when Maverick wasn’t the man I married, when he was in agony and I was trying to soothe him, well, I didn’t know if there could be worse timing.
Talk about selfish.
“Oh, God,” he said thickly, and I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, trying to ignore how my nipples budded in reaction to his plea which reminded me of something a man might say as he was about to orgasm.
Shakily, I released a breath he didn’t hear because he was moaning again, a low-level vibration that worked on me better than a Sybian.
Biting my lip, I tried to focus, tried to push through the delicious sensations he was inadvertently gifting me with, and moved my hands down to his neck. He tensed up, pain hitting him with me approaching new territory, but he placed more pressure on my stomach as he gave me more of his weight.
That level of trust from a man I sensed wasn’t trusting at all, a soldier who was, at least in his head, fresh from the battlefield, gave me hope.
Hope was dangerous, I knew that. But what other choice did I have?
I loved Maverick.
Loved him when I’d thought those feelings were going to be dead to me from now on.
He was my light at the end of the tunnel. A glimmer in the distance that I could cling to even if it wasn’t forever.
He was a destiny I’d never dared believe I’d have, and while I was right, while he’d been taken from me just as I’d feared, here he was, lowering his barriers.
I’d massage him twenty-four seven if it meant he’d stop locking me out.
Then my pleasure, my relief in what I’d thought was his softening toward me, turned to sawdust because the groans mumbled from his lips morphed into sobs, and I felt his wretchedness. Felt it and recognized it. I felt it every day in some shape or form.
It was a black hole, something you could never get out of, something you could never escape, could only avoid for so long before it would always rear its ugly head again.
Maverick: A Dark MC Romance (A Dark & Dirty Sinners' MC Series Book 6) Page 12