by Lane Hart
* * *
I missed my brothers, honestly, I did. But I wish they would back up and give me a fucking minute to look for Tessa.
Once Roman and Charlotte leave, things begin to settle down. Several other guys head out, but most stay, going back to their games of pool or beer bottles, whatever they were doing before I came in and the happy couple went out.
My eyes continue to search the room for Tessa with no luck. I’m beginning to think she didn’t come or left before I got here when the bathroom opens and she walks out, heading straight to the bar where two young guys I don’t know – prospects based on the lack of patches on the front of their buttoned-up leather cuts – jump to attention. It only takes about two seconds for me to notice that the way their eyes follow her and drink her in it’s obvious that they’re crushing on her hard. They both want her. Roman may have posted them to be her bodyguards, but the two kids have got it bad. It’s no chore to have to keep an eye on a beautiful woman twenty-four seven, especially compared to some of the bullshit jobs I had to do as a prospect. I damn near died from dehydration when they made me spit shine all the bikes in the lot, and these chumps get guard duty. From the way they’re staring, it’s only a matter of time before one of them crosses a line and touches her.
Unless…is that what Tessa wants?
For all I know, she’s dating again and doesn’t mind being touched by a man, or two of them. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I want her to live her life the way she should have before those fuckers hurt her. It just sucks to know that I may be too late.
Time to find out.
As I walk over to the bar, I hear the guy on Tessa’s left say, “You ready to go home?” and nearly lay him out.
Instead, I grab the neck of his cut and yank him backward about three feet.
“Hey! What the hell!” he exclaims before spinning around with his fists raised. He looks me up and down quickly, noticing my lack of patches. “Who the fuck are you?” he asks, apparently feeling brave.
“Verek!” Tessa warns.
“I’m one of the fuckers who’ll decide if you patch in or not,” I tell him. “Now take your buddy and get lost!”
His wide brown eyes look to Tessa, then to the other kid who shrugs like he doesn’t have a clue if I’m full of shit or telling the truth.
“Go. I’ll be fine,” Tessa tells the boys. “Verek’s a Savage King, or at least I thought he was,” she says, narrowing her emerald eyes at me in a way that says I’ve somehow fucked up.
After a few more seconds of shuffling back and forth on their feet, the two prospects finally give up and go stand with their backs to the wall, facing us just ten or so feet away.
“So you’re back,” Tessa says.
“I’m back,” I agree when I lean my hip against the bar inches away from her so I can drink her in. She looks the same as I remembered, from the curls of her red hair to the dusting of freckles over her porcelain skin and her cute button nose. She smells just as delicious too, like warm vanilla. Not surprisingly, she’s wearing a big green sweater that comes down to her knees and a pair of loose jeans underneath, not showing any skin other than her face and hands.
“Aren’t you worried Roman will spank you if he finds out you talked to me?” she asks, her question feistier than I expected. Is she drunk?
“Roman knows I’m here, and he looked pretty happy to see me,” I tell her, leaving out that I didn’t ask his permission to talk to her nor will I from here on out. That shit is done. Tessa doesn’t live with him anymore, so he doesn’t get a say in whether or not he thinks I’m good enough for her. Which brings me to my most urgent concern. “Are you happy to see me?” I ask.
“No,” she answers too fast to be the truth. “Why would I want to see the man who forgot about me for six months?”
“I missed you and I never forgot about you, not even for a second,” I tell her emphatically. “Roman put me in a tough situation, and he needed time to get the fuck over what we did.”
“Where were you?” she asks, still looking down at her glass and not me.
“Miami.”
“How many girls did you fuck in Miami?”
It’s not that I wasn’t prepared for that question, I’m just caught off guard because she used the f-word so easily. I don’t think I ever heard her cuss before. I know for a fact she never said fuck.
“None,” I tell her honestly.
Rolling her eyes that still won’t look at me she says, “You’re so full of shit.”
“I’m telling the truth. Now, you didn’t ask how many girls tried to fuck me. But the answer to how many I slept with is the same. None. Not a single one.”
For several long seconds, Tessa doesn’t say anything. Then she asks, “Do you want some kind of award for not taking a different woman home every night?”
I think there is much more to that question. She’s obviously taking a shot at me for the night she was taken, finally bringing it up – that I was being stupid while she was being kidnapped, and it’s my fault for not going after her. There’s no amount of apologizing to make up for that. So I don’t even try. I just tell her the truth.
“Sweetheart, you’re the only woman I want to take home.”
“No call for six months and you have the nerve to try that line on me?”
“It’s not a line,” I assure her.
“Uh-huh. Right,” Tessa replies. “Leo, I need another drink!”
“Hey, man,” our youngest member says when he comes over and eyes her empty glass and then me.
“Think she’s had enough?” I ask him.
“I just serve them up. I don’t judge,” he answers.
“Last one, and then I’m taking you home,” I tell Tessa as Leo pours.
“Nice try, but that’s not going to happen. Lucas and Jake will drive me back.” The way she says their names makes them sound too familiar. I don’t like it.
“But I bet you won’t let them sleep inside your apartment,” I argue. “Do they sleep in the hallway or on their bikes?” I question, but Tessa remains silent.
Thankfully, as Leo slides her only half-full glass toward her, he gives me the answer I wanted, “Roman’s making the prospects take shifts sleeping inside a tent in the side yard of the apartment building.”
“Sleeping outside in winter,” I remark loudly with a grin as I glance over my shoulder at the two boys briefly, both staring daggers in my back. “I’ll wave to them from your window,” I say, assuming Roman would insist on her having at least a second-floor apartment for safety.
“You’re not staying with me tonight,” Tessa says bluntly.
“Sweetheart, you know you’ll sleep better if I’m there. Have you stayed on your own, or has Charlotte been crashing with you?” I ask. Her tightening jaw is my answer. Sliding closer to her, but still not touching her side, I add quietly, “As you already know, I’m capable of keeping my hands to myself. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
Tessa rolls that idea around before she turns to me and says the last thing I expected. “What if I want you to sleep in my bed with me?”
I’m not the only one shocked by her sudden, head-spinning change of heart. Leo drops a fucking lowball glass, shattering it on the floor. Thankfully, we were out of the blast zone.
“I’ll still sleep on the sofa because I’m guessing you’ve lost count of how many drinks you’ve had. Not only are you pissed at me, but you’re also drunk, aren’t you?”
Tessa wets her lips, but her eyes stay on mine when her fingertips reach out and run a line down the center of my chest and abs. “Maybe that’s a good thing. Lower my…inhibitions.”
“It’s not your inhibitions I’m worried about, and you know it,” I respond when I gently remove her hand from my stomach just for a chance to touch her. Lifting her knuckles to my lips, I place a kiss on them but don’t release my hold afterward as I rub my thumb back and forth over her smooth skin.
From the corner of my eye, I see the boys bristle before
one of them grows the balls to come up beside of us.
“You okay with him, Miss Singleton?” he asks, which means he’s fully aware of her limits, which has me raising my opinion of him, even though I want to tell him to fuck off.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Tessa asks without taking her eyes off me, eyes that are growing heavy either from exhaustion or something else entirely. “Do you know how many men he killed for me?” she mumbles, making it clear it’s the alcohol talking. Sober Tessa would never bring that up in public.
“Huh?” the kid asks.
With my free hand, I hold up four fingers to him.
“Seriously?” he says.
“I don’t know what she’s talking about,” I tease, giving Tessa a wink. “She’s obviously very intoxicated. What do you say we take you on home now?”
“Okay,” Tessa thankfully agrees with a sigh. “Lola is probably wondering where I am.”
“You got a roommate?” I ask in confusion.
“Lola’s her black Lab,” the prospect explains since Tessa is suddenly very interested in slurping up the last of her drink.
“Oh, right. Guard dog. I forgot she had three of them,” I joke.
Now how do I get her home since I’m on my bike?
“How did she get here?” I ask him.
“Lucas and I drove her,” he says, gesturing between himself and the other kid, who finally steps up and joins us.
“In the club’s van?” I whisper in disbelief, hoping Tessa won’t hear the v-word.
“God no! Roman sold that a long time ago,” the other boy – Jake I think Tessa said his name was – replies. “We’ve got a red Suburban to drive around for club shit.”
“Good, that’s good,” I say in relief.
“We know more about her than you think,” Lucas chimes in defensively.
“Not as much as you wished,” I remark.
“I want ice cream,” Tessa suddenly turns to us and declares. “We should go get ice cream!”
“There’s some Neapolitan in your freezer, remember?” Jake tells her, making me realize they do know a lot about her and probably buy her groceries.
“Oh yeah!” Tessa replies excitedly. “What are we waiting for? There’s enough for all four of us.”
“Two of us,” I amend. “The patchless puppies have to stay outside. Now let’s go,” I say, standing up and taking Tessa’s hand.
“Not Lola. She sleeps at the foot of the bed.”
“Fine, she can stay inside, but the other two pups can stick to their tent,” I reply as I guide her to the door, nodding goodbye at the Kings still hanging out.
“Roman said no one can touch her,” Lucas whispers from behind us. “But she lets you?”
“Looks like you still have a lot to learn,” I tell him.
Chapter Twenty
Tessa
* * *
I roll over in bed, pulling the extra pillow closer and wetting my dry lips after the strangest dream. At least it wasn’t an old nightmare, but it was almost as shitty.
I dreamed about Verek, that I was talking to him – giving him hell actually, but then he said all kinds of sweet things that made me melt even if it was unbelievable. For instance, dream Verek said he hasn’t been sleeping around while avoiding me for half a year.
Sensing that I’m awake, Lola whines and jumps off the foot of the bed, then goes over and scratches on the bedroom door I keep shut and locked.
“It’s only…4:00 a.m.,” I sit up and whisper to her when I squint at the clock beside the bed. “Go back to sleep.”
It’s unusual for her to need to go out in the middle of the night. She can usually hold it until Charlotte or I wake up the next morning.
Wait a second. I glance over and find the other half of my bed empty. Charlotte…is not here.
Yesterday she married Roman, and now they’re on their honeymoon. I must have drunk way too much at their reception.
It’s all coming back to me in little pieces now, though.
Maybe I forgot to take Lola out when I came home and passed out. I’m just glad I was able to sleep so deeply knowing I’m alone for the first time in six months.
“Poor thing,” I say a little louder since I no longer have to be concerned about waking up Charlotte.
Throwing the covers back, I get out of bed in my long-sleeve, blue-and-black flannel pajamas and shove my feet into the slippers I keep by the bed.
Lola whines again as I start for the door.
“Hold your horses, girl. I’m going as fast I can,” I say when I open the bedroom door and she darts out.
Instead of heading to the apartment door to go outside, though, she goes over to the sofa and sits down beside it, resting her chin on the cushion.
No, not the cushion but on the leg of the man lying on the cushions.
Verek.
I’m not sure what he’s doing in here or when he got here, but he’s so beautiful and perfect sound asleep on my blue sofa.
Without thought, I kneel down beside the sofa with Lola. My hand reaches out to caress his scruffy cheek. Part of me wants to slap him for going MIA for so long while the other wants to kiss him because I missed him so much.
For whatever reason, he’s here, in my apartment, sleeping on my sofa, probably because he knew I’d be nervous about being alone by myself with Charlotte gone. Does she know he’s here? Is he here out of obligation or because he wants to be? It’s always hard for me to figure out why someone as amazing as Verek would want anything to do with someone as broken as me. That’s the reason I assume I hadn’t heard from him in months – he had moved on to a girl a night again.
When Lola leans over and licks his bare foot that’s hanging off the sofa, Verek finally stirs and his eyes blink open. Unlike how I would react to someone staring at me while I sleep, he doesn’t fly off the sofa in surprise. He just blinks a few more times and says, “Oh, hey. You okay?”
“Yes.”
“Sorry I passed out so hard. That ten-hour drive was no joke. What time is it?”
“You drove the entire ten hours today?” I say in disbelief. “On your motorcycle?”
“Yeah, after I worked last night.”
“You worked? Worked where?” I ask.
“Club in Miami,” he answers and then nods to Lola as he peels the blanket back to reveal he’s only wearing a tiny pair of pink cotton shorts. “The dog need to go out? I can take her for you. It’s cold out.”
“I’m…not sure. Wait. Are you wearing my shorts?”
“Uh-huh. Remember, you thought it would be funny to see me in them, and I needed to put on something clean after my shower. My clothes are in the dryer.”
“Hold on. You took a shower? Here?”
“Yes. Why? That a problem?” he asks, looking at me in confusion. “You said you didn’t mind. In fact, you even offered to give me a hand that I reluctantly declined because you were drunk. Exactly how drunk were you if you don’t remember those conversations?”
“Actually, I can’t believe I had any conversation with you I’m so pissed you up and left without a word for over six months!”
“Great,” Verek says, scrubbing his hands over his face. “We’ve got to go through this again? I thought you were over that!”
“Are you trying to pull a fast one on me? There’s no way in hell I was over it.”
“Drunk you was definitely over it. You invited me to sleep in your bed in front of half the club and then begged to shower with me.”
“I did not!”
“You did.”
“So, how did you convince me to forgive you? Even drunk I wouldn’t have just forgotten how angry I am!”
“You sort of softened when I told you I hadn’t been with anyone else. That I didn’t want to bring anyone else home but you.”
As if his words are magic, tension leaves my body and my limbs grow limp, softening just as he predicted, just like I had dreamed. Or I guess it was an actual memory of earlier tonight.
Still
, I haven’t completely forgiven him, even if I have the sudden urge to lick every inch of his bare, sexy chest and abs. “Why didn’t you call or text or send a smoke signal, anything for six freaking months, Verek? And don’t try to tell me it was because Roman told you not to! Even if that was true, you’re not the type of man to sit back and obey orders as you’ve already proven.”
Sighing heavily, he gently grabs a strand of my hair, careful not to touch my face, and twirls the curl around his finger. “Have you been avoiding Paul for the last six months?” Verek asks out of the blue.
“W-what does that have to do with anything?” I huff.
“Just answer the question, sweetheart.”
Again, I melt faster than chocolate on a hot southern day when he calls me sweetheart. It’s embarrassing how easily he can affect me with just a few words, and how I already want to forgive him even though I shouldn’t.
“Fine,” I reply. “Paul still calls me every day without fail. But, um, I haven’t answered much since we went on that trip.” By trip Verek knows I mean killing spree. Paul has no clue just how different I am now from the woman he used to know. There are so many things I can’t tell him, like what Verek did to those other men while I stood nearby, or what those men did to me in the van and storage facility.
“And why do you avoid his call?” Verek asks softly, still twirling my hair around his finger. “Is it because you don’t care about him?”
I start to deny that I still have any feelings left for the man I was supposed to marry but can’t lie to Verek. He knows all of my truths, even the ugliest ones. “It doesn’t matter if I still love him. He should just give up and move on. I’m sure he will eventually. He’ll be better off finding someone he can have a normal life with.”
“There you go,” he says simply.
“What do you mean?” I ask in confusion.
“That’s pretty much your answer for why I didn’t call you.”
“What?” I mutter as I play back the last few minutes of our conversation and try and imagine it coming out of Verek’s mouth instead of my own. Jesus. “You wanted me to give up on you and move on?” I say in disbelief as I scramble to my feet. “Then why are you back, Verek? Why didn’t you just stay away and wait it out a little longer?” I shout at him.