“Stay with me?” I ask her as I see her looking at her watch. “Please stay with me, I don’t want to be alone.”
For long moments I see her fight something internally, like she wants to tell me she won’t, but eventually she has a seat at the table beside me. “I’ll stay,” she whispers as she reaches out, taking my hand in hers.
That grip is strong, and it’s the one thing that seems to have saved me from becoming a victim instead of a survivor.
Fifteen
Addie
A: Hey Mom, Wilder needs someone to stay with him. Because I’ve had medical training with CRISIS, I’ve offered to be that person.
My hands shake as I send the text. I worry that she can see straight through me, that she knows what’s going on without me telling her. I also know he can’t be by himself. There’s no way in hell he’ll be able to take care of things on his own, and I’m not in the business of letting someone who took a knife for me, fend for himself.
M: Are you sure? We can do a rotation.
A: No, I feel like this is something I need to do. Ya know, time for me to take on more responsibility.
I hope she believes the lie, but I’m worried. Worried that if I don’t tell people I’m here, then they might show up and I might have to explain why I’m the one taking care of him. What if someone drives by, sees my SUV and starts asking questions? It’s better for me to get ahead of this than to live the lies I’ve been living for so long.
M: Alright, if you need help just let someone know. He seems like a really nice guy.
A: Agreed, and we know I can handle my own. Love you, Mom!
M: Love you too!
Against my better judgment I stay with him. Believing this could be my life from now on. Maybe I can stop being so selfish and finally think about someone else. That’s what everybody preaches all the time. That I need to grow up and put other’s needs before my own.
But I still feel like I’m lying to everyone. No one knows what this man means to me, they don’t know how he makes me feel. Fuck I didn’t even know how he made me feel until I saw him take a knife for me. My heart was in my throat, my stomach on the ground. And the guilt. Shit, the guilt was immeasurable.
On day one, while he’s asleep, I hear a motorcycle. Looking out the window, I see Remy. This is the last thing I want to deal with, and besides my dad, he’s the last person I want to see. As he comes to a stop beside my SUV, I go out the front door, meeting him there.
“Heard you were staying with Wild,” he starts as he walks toward me.
“Told my mom and everything, didn’t expect it to be a secret.”
My tone is bitchy, and it really shouldn’t be, because he helped me when he didn’t have to.
“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on with him?” He nods to the house, while I cross my arms over my chest.
“I don’t really know myself,” I run my hands through my hair. “He and I have known each other for a little bit, and we’re exploring things.”
“He took a knife for you, Addie.”
“I know,” I throw my hands out to the side. “I don’t know what we are, okay? All I know is he’s been a friend when I’ve needed one.”
Remy’s eyes narrow. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Maybe if you’d get your head out of Tate’s ass, and she did the same with you, the two of you would understand,” I’ve said too much, so I rein it back in. “He’s taken care of. Is there anything I can help you with?”
Remy looks like he wants to continue this, but thinks better of it. “No, but if you need anything, you obviously know my number.”
As I watch him ride away, I let my inner snide bitch show. “Obviously.”
On day two, Wild’s more alert, and even though he’s tired, he’s also a little bored. I hotspot my phone so we can watch a couple of movies on Netflix, while I force-feed him broth and crackers.
“How long has your dad been a member of Heaven Hill?” He asks as we wait for another episode to load up.
I’m lying in bed with him, both of us propped up on our respective pillows. The situation would be downright cozy if he wasn’t recovering from a knife wound that was my fault.
“Since before I was born. I’ve never known another way of life,” I admit.
“Would you stay in, if given the choice?” he asks, his hand grabbing mine. Our fingers entwine together as he questions me. “Like would you be with a guy who wore a cut and a patch? I know you’ll be with one who doesn’t,” his voice is deep, yet unsure. About my answer, maybe?
“I always saw myself with a patched member, to be honest. They always looked bigger than life to me, but I have to admit now that’s because of my dad, because of Liam, and the other guys. They’re all bigger than life. To me this is normal. I see how happy all the couples are, and I want that. So yeah, I always saw myself with a patched member,” I give him a grin. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not having fun right now.”
He makes a noise in the back of his throat, a smile spreading across his face. “Good,” he answers as he kisses me on the cheek.
I want to question why that’s good, but then the show starts up again, and it’s the last thing on my mind.
For three days I stay with him while he recovers. On the third day, he can do most everything on his own and he’s moving without my aid, but still I stay. Because now, I’m the one who doesn’t want to be alone. Not like I have been in the apartment. I stay because here I’m needed. Here there’s an appreciation for what I do to help him out. And honestly? I enjoy it.
Even as I get an alert on my phone telling me bad weather’s coming, I decide to stay. Not wanting Tate to worry about me, I shoot her off a text, lying, telling her I’m staying at CRISIS. If she thinks I’m there she won’t worry about me, won’t want to come where I am, and then I won’t have to explain what the hell is going on here.
A: Hey girlie! Don’t know if you’ve seen the news or not, but they’re calling for possible ice tonight. I’m going to stick around CRISIS in case they need help. If you want to come out here, that’s cool. Just let me know what you want to do.
In my head I’m praying she stays put, I don’t want to have to leave and pretend like that’s where I was going to be tonight.
T: I’ve had a shit day. I’m staying home and drinking that bottle of wine we smuggled from Mom’s house the last time we were over for dinner. I’ll check in tomorrow.
Sounds like not everything is as kosher with Remy as she would like it to be. There’s a huge part of me that’s worried about her, but I’m also worried about the man asleep next to me in this bed. And to be blunt, he’s the one who’s been there for me, while she hasn’t. Time is fickle as fuck. Days can seem like weeks, week can seem like seconds. When someone is there for you, it doesn’t matter how long you’ve known one another. All that matters is that person made you their priority when you needed it. Maybe we both have our own priorities now and they aren’t each other.
A: Wanna talk about it?
We’ve always been able to talk to one another, so I throw the invitation out. But tonight, I don’t know what to say to her. Hell right now I don’t even know what’s going on in her life and she sure as shit doesn’t know what’s going on in mine.
T: Not even a little bit. Be safe.
A: You too, and if you need anything, call me or text me.
Blowing out a breath, I throw my phone down on the table beside the bed. I’ve been wearing his sweatpants and shirt, but at some point I’ll need to go get clean undergarments. The ones hanging on his shower rod in the bathroom are my favorites, but I don’t want to put them on wet and stretch them out.
The wind is picking up outside and I can hear the storm coming in. Tight and cozy in this house though is all I could ever hope for it to be. Beside me, Wild rolls over, putting his arms around my waist. He’s mumbling in his sleep and I’m unsure what he’s talking about, but as he curls around me I hear him moan.
�
�You feel so good.”
A smile plays against the edges of my lips. I’ve obviously had sex with guys before, but I’ve never slept with them. This right here has been a whole new experience - having someone else in bed with me, feeling their body heat, knowing when they turn over, and being the warmth they reach out to in the middle of the night. And as he pulls me into him, his mouth at my ear, he says something that scares the fucking shit out of me.
“Please don’t leave me, everybody leaves me.”
Immediately I freeze, fear gripping me hardcore, doubt at the forefront of my mind. Who am I to be the person this man needs? I can’t even be what I need most of the time. His arms around me suddenly feel like bands holding me tightly, and I want to fight them. They’re suffocating me as I try to find my place in this world, holding me down when I’m trying to stand on my own two feet. My breath is coming faster than it should, and I’m almost positive I’m on the verge of a panic attack. This is why I don’t get involved with people; I don’t do well when others start to expect things from me. I’m desperate to belong, but fear I’m never going to be enough to deserve it. I know without a doubt, in the end, I’ll end up breaking both of our hearts. And that’s where I’m a coward. Because I get out of that bed, out of his warm embrace. I gather what I can, not bothering to turn a light on, and I do what I do best.
There, in the dark of the night, I run. I run to CRISIS where I should have been in the first place, where I have clothes that aren’t his, and where I can sleep in a bed with no expectations, no worries, and no fear of disappointment.
The night is freezing as I drive across town. I shiver as I crank the heat up, not knowing when I’ll ever feel warm or whole again. As I get to the intersection of Porter Pike and Louisville Road, the windshield becomes blurry for two reasons. The sleet starts to fall, and the tears that have been welling up in my eyes for the last few miles are now spilling over. The light is red, and it’s forced me to stop. It would be so easy to turn around, go back to him, and forget that I left.
But in the end, that’s the hard thing to do. Not the easy thing. Fear is so much easier than being strong. I let it win. Again. When the light switches to green, I make the left turn, further away from him, further from my happy, and closer to the life I feel I’m destined to live.
Parking as close as I can to the door, I make a run for it, disengaging the alarm to let myself in, then setting it again. Checking the sign-in sheet, I see which bedrooms are empty tonight, and climb up the stairs. My legs are just as heavy as my heart.
As I climb into the cold bed, miles away from him, and as I hear the ice hitting the roof, I acknowledge I miss being in his arms, I miss his warmth, and fuck if I don’t miss the way he makes this noise in the back of his throat when my ass brushes against his hard length in the middle of the night.
I already want to hear him call me Shortcake; want to be there in case he needs me. What if he gets up and he can’t move because he’s sore? What if he has a bad dream? Regret is an evil bitch and she’s making herself known here and now. Beating myself up won’t help, and I know that, but at the same time I wonder why in the hell I keep fucking sabotaging myself.
No one is better at making me miserable than me.
“Addie, what the fuck have you done?” I ask myself as I will sleep to please come.
Wild
The first thing I realize when I wake up is Addie’s gone. Running like a thief in the night, off with my feelings and the sense of rightness I had with her in my arms. I should have known, someone as wild as her would be gone as soon as things got a little serious.
And make no doubt about it; I was definitely thinking that way. Her staying here with me, helping me and being the person I was able to turn to, was definitely getting under my skin. It was definitely showing me that I don’t have to do everything alone. But something made her run, and I’ll be damned if I know what it was.
The phone on the bedside table, the one that Meredith told me was my direct line to the club vibrates, causing me to reach over and flip it up.
J: Hey this is Jagger. If you’re okay to ride, you need to come to the clubhouse. We’ve got a situation.
W: Give me a few and I’ll be on my way.
Doesn’t matter if I’m not okay to ride. I sure as fuck can’t stay in this place, not with her scent on my sheets and her goddamn lingerie hanging in my bathroom. It’s not in me to be the kind of person who lets this shit go, so I go to where she hung her stuff, where she put the clothes she wore the past few days. I pack it up, shoving it in my saddle bags, before I hop on my bike with a wince, and make my way to the clubhouse.
For the first time in a long time, I feel like I have a purpose, something other than just draining the resources this world has to offer. Maybe here I’ll figure out who the fuck I am, what I’m supposed to do with my life, and just maybe if I’m lucky enough, I can convince this girl to do it with me. Just because she left doesn’t mean I’ll let her stay gone forever. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about myself in the past few months, it’s that I’m a survivor and I don’t give up easily. If there’s something worth fighting for, I’m going to fight for it. She’s worth fighting for, and I’ll be damned if I let her think she’s not.
As I pull up to the clubhouse, Jagger greets me. “Glad you could make it. Somebody’s after Tatum. We’re not sure what’s going on, but it looks to be somebody connected to Remy and we need all hands on deck.”
That name sounds familiar; it’s Addie’s best friend and I want to ask quickly if Addie’s with her, but I know it’ll give me away. The minute I let the fear in my voice out, they’ll know I care about her, and that’s not where we are right now. Instead I nod and walk in, ready to do whatever it is they ask of me.
With this being my first foray into club business, I’m kind of unsure how to handle it, but I sit back, watch, and try to be as respectful as possible.
“What do you need me to do?” I ask as I get to the clubhouse, meeting up with Jagger and a few of the other members.
“See those people in that SUV?” He points to the SUV idling in the driveway. “They’re Remy’s parents. They attempted to attack Tatum today. It’s going to be our pleasure to give them a MC escort out of town.”
“Was Tatum by herself?” I can’t help asking. Since I don’t know where Shortcake went, it seems like she may have gone to her best friend.
“Yeah, she stayed by herself last night. Addie was at CRISIS. I think Tatum was going to meet her there, I’m not entirely sure, but they caught Tate on these icy roads by herself, and they wrecked her. She’s at the hospital getting checked out. It’s our job to get these fuckers out of here,” Jagger points to them. “If you’ll bring up the rear, I’ll give them a clear path.”
Bundling up as best I can, I do as he asks, grateful that I now know where Shortcake is, and where I can go deliver the clothes she left.
Regardless of what she thinks – this isn’t over yet.
Sixteen
Addie
March (The Present)
“Are you gonna answer me?” Mom asks as she gives me a pointed look. “Your dad wants to know why you’re talking to Wilder outside of club situations.”
I struggle with a lie, and figure it won’t work anyway. She can spot one of those a mile away thanks to Caelin, she’s become the human fucking lie detector. Things would have been so much easier on me if I were an only child. “I know him, okay?”
“Outside of when he was at the dinner the other night and when you said you’d help take care of him the past few days?” I swear she could be a member of the FBI the way she questions people and gets answers. I squirm under that gaze.
“Yeah, I met him around town, and he was at Skunk’s when I went to pick up the rent.”
There, I had a reason to meet him before, thank you very much! A little white lie never hurt anyone.
“The way the two of you were talking to one another seemed to indicate intimate knowledge, you were le
aning into him, Addie. Not sure if you realize that or not.”
Oh my God, my mother, the matchmaker of all single people everywhere, unless you’re Caelin. “I was just trying to hear him, Mom, sometimes traffic out there is noisy, plus we spent the last few days together. I mean, when you’re nursing someone back to health, you get a little intimate.”
“Yeah.” She nods, crossing her arms over her chest. “Okay, if you say so. There’s your hot chocolate.” She indicates the mugs with a point of her chin. “If you two need anything else,” she looks at me and Tatum, “just let me know, there’s plenty of work around here.”
“Don’t I know it.” I clear my throat, grab my mug, and take a drink as I have a seat.
“You lied to your mom,” Tate gasps. “She might not be able to tell, but I can. I know you too well.”
“Look, I can’t get into it now, I’m not even sure if I want to get into it at all,” I try my best to explain to her. “We know each other, and that’s it.”
She giggles, poking me in the side. “You know each other, or you know each other?”
“Dear Jesus.”
“What? I told you about me and Remy. You’ve obviously been keeping this a secret from not only me, but everyone. What’s the deal?”
Keeping my voice low, I give her a little bit of the information she seeks. “I met him at Mayhem.”
Her eyes are wide. “You know we’re not supposed to go there.”
“I know, and I’m the reason he got stabbed.”
Wild Page 9