by A. M. Myers
I shrug. “It all kind of blends together, honestly, and I couldn’t tell you at what age things happened but I do remember a lot - the yelling, the fighting, the sounds of things shattering but most of all, I remember knowing without a doubt that my father hated me.”
His body tenses. “Did he ever hit you?”
“No. I guess that was the one line he wouldn’t cross so he could still convince himself that he was a decent man.”
Though, I don’t know how he was delusional enough to manage that.
“Where is he now?” he asks, his voice filled with malice and I shrug, looking over at the park.
“I’m not sure. When I was six, my mother decided that she’d had enough and filed for divorce. The fighting got worse then but my father never once tried to fight for my sister or me and I guess that shouldn’t surprise me after everything else. The last time I saw him was at this park on my seventh birthday.”
“You haven’t heard from him since?”
I shake my head. “No. He wasn’t interested in being a father so once he was free of us, he took off and he’s never resurfaced.”
“God, baby,” he rasps, reaching out for me to pull me into his arms and I shake my head, giving his hand a squeeze.
“I’m not done.”
His brows shoot up. “How can there possibly be more?”
“Because, as you’ve pointed out, I’m very stubborn,” I say and a hint of a smile tugs at his lips but I can’t return the gesture. “After I watched their marriage fall apart, I was determined that I would do things differently. As a little girl, I dreamed about finding a good man, someone who was kind and strong, someone who would love me with every fiber of his being and cherish me the way my father never did. I was so sure that love was real because of my grandparents’ story and I just knew it was out there waiting for me so when I met Conner during my sophomore year of high school, I was all in. I thought I’d met the one for me and I built this whole fantasy in my head of what our lives would be like but I was young and naive and I trusted way too easily.”
I peek over at him and watch his eyes darken as his jaw clenches. “This is the guy you mentioned before?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not gonna lie, Mama,” he practically snarls. “I’ve spent a hell of a lot of time trying to imagine what he could have done to you to hurt you this badly…”
Nodding, I look back at our hands and grasp them in my other hand. “I’m getting there.”
“Okay.” He squeezes my hand again, giving me the encouragement I need and I take a deep breath and let my mind fall back into the images of my past.
“Like I mentioned that night at the bar, we were crazy about each other and we ran off to Vegas to get married. My birthday is in August so we had to wait until then but the moment I was legal, we took off. That morning, we just hopped in Conner’s car and left everything else behind. My mother was beside herself, freaking out and calling me repeatedly as we drove to Nevada, telling me that it was a mistake and that I needed to turn around and come home. Of course, I didn’t listen.”
A sad smile pulls at his lips as he leans forward and cups my cheek in his hand. “Of course, you didn’t.”
“Well,” I reply with a half-hearted laugh. “What else would you expect? One Elvis impersonator later, we were married and we decided to head back to our hotel to… uh, consummate our union.”
“Izzy?” he asks, arching a brow. “Are you suddenly nervous to talk about sex?”
I shrug, fighting back a smile as heat rushes to my cheeks. Only Diego could make me smile and blush while I’m telling this horrid story. “Apparently around you, I am. I don’t want you to think of me with him like that.”
“Done,” he fires back, nodding. “Now continue please.”
Right.
I take another breath, letting it breathe strength back into me as I nod. “Something happened on the way back to the hotel… I don’t know what but we were about a mile from the hotel when he started a fight with me. Honestly, I can’t even remember what it was about but I do know one moment I was crazy happy and the next, we’re yelling at each other on the sidewalk. People were looking at me with such pity as he screamed at me and I tried so hard to understand what had set him off but in an instant, I was reminded of my father and it broke something inside me.”
“Baby, please let me hold you,” he pleads and I shake my head again before scooting close enough for my knee to touch his leg. Sighing, he drags our hands up and presses his lips to my fingers. “Is that the end of the story?”
“No.”
He winces and rakes his hand through his hair as he nods, the muscles in his jaw flexing. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”
“I can stop,” I tell him. Surprisingly, I don’t want to though. Now that this is all coming out, I want him to know everything. I want him to understand me and why I act the way I do sometimes. He shakes his head, meeting my gaze.
“Keep going.”
“Eventually, he walked off and left me standing on the sidewalk by myself so I decided to head back to the hotel, thinking that he’d show up soon enough and we’d be able to talk things out. I waited in our room for hours before he finally came back but when he did, he apologized for everything and said he just freaked out a little bit. He swore to me that he had worked his shit out and that we were good so I let it go.”
Looking down at my left hand, I can still picture the way the simple gold ring he gave me looked on my finger and my chest aches as I look back up at Diego.
“Two days later, we went back home and started looking for apartments in Baton Rouge so we could go to college together. But about a week after we got back, I got a message from this girl named Amber on my social media. She claimed that she was Conner’s fiancée and that I needed to get over my obsession with him. I didn’t believe her at first but then she sent me photo after photo of the two of them together and the cherry on top of it all was that she’d just given birth to his baby the day before.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…”
I let out a laugh but it lacks any conviction. “I wish. I found out that he’d been sleeping with her for a year and a half, right under my nose, and when I confronted him with it, he just laughed. He thought it was so funny that he’d been able to get away with it for so long and he called me a naive little girl for believing that he would actually want to be married to me. I was furious and it felt like someone had sunk their fist into my chest and ripped my heart right out. But all he did was grin as I screamed at him and called him every foul name I could think of. When I told him that we were through, he just shrugged.”
My chest burns as the memory plays in my mind and I pull one of my hands from Diego’s to press it against my heart as tears sting my eyes.
“That was the worst part, I think. He was so unaffected over losing me and it had been a game to him all along. I was something to play with just to see how much he could make me hurt.”
Diego squeezes my hand tightly and I look up at him, surprised by the look of murder in his eyes. “What’s his last name?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I tell him, shaking my head. Sure, I could tell Diego his full name and he could go kick his ass for me but what would that do? It wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t heal the pain that I carry around.
“Of course, it fucking matters, Izzy,” he growls. “If you think I’m going to let some asshole hurt you like that and get away with it, you don’t know me at all.”
I sigh. “Can we table this for later? There is more to the story.”
“Jesus fucking Christ. I don’t know how much more I can take.” He turns to the park, staring out at the rundown swing set as he clenches his fist at his side. His muscles are impossibly tight and I swear, he looks like he’s about to break. This is my story but now it’s causing him pain and I can’t stand it. Releasing another sigh, I let go of his hand and manage to maneuver my body into his lap, straddling his legs
and grabbing his face with both hands.
“Do you want me to stop?”
He meets my eyes and uncertainty shines back at me. “How bad does it get?”
“I… I don’t know how to answer that. He never hurt me physically if that’s what you mean,” I admit and his nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath and grips my hips in his hands, nodding for me to continue. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Dragging my hands down from his face to his chest, I run my fingers along the stitching on his cut. “After we split, I moved back in with my mom and she helped me file for divorce. He ended up staying with his fiancée and baby girl but that didn’t stop him from constantly texting me. One of the first things he sent was a photo he took on the night of our wedding with two hookers. Apparently when he disappeared after our fight, he found himself some company for the evening. He liked to send photos of their time together a lot. Other times he would tell me about all the times he was off screwing Amber behind my back or how he shared naked photos of me with all of his friends. Once he got tired of all that, he would talk in great detail about the things I let him do to me sexually and then he’d shame me for it, telling me that everyone knew what a whore I was.”
“And so you started using men the way he used you?”
I nod, refusing to meet his eyes. This is the part of the story I’m least proud of but at the time, it all made sense to me. “It was about taking back my power and protecting myself from ever letting anyone do something like that to me again. The thing is, I never thought about it this long-term, you know? I was just so dead set on never feeling that way again that I had blinders on.”
“I get it, Mama,” he whispers, brushing the hair out of my face and I meet his gaze. “How does the baby you lost come into all this?”
Shit.
You’d think since I already told him this part of the story, it would be easier to say now but it’s not. I rest my hand on my bump, pulling comfort from my little boy as he lands a kick to my ribs.
“Two months after we split, I had been sick a lot and my mom made me take a pregnancy test. It was positive. She was livid and I was scared as hell but I promised myself and my baby that I would be a good mother, that I would give it everything I had. And well, you know the rest. I passed out in class and when I woke up, my baby was dead.”
The tears I’ve been fighting back this whole time spill down my cheeks and I try to turn away from him but he cradles my cheek in his hand, not letting me hide from him. I stare down at his chest, willing the pain to stop but like I said, the floodgates have been opened. Diego forces my gaze to his, despite my objections and when he meets my eyes, I see something inside him break. Pulling me forward, he kisses me - soft, sweet, and full of so much love that a sob bubbles out of me but he doesn’t back away, doesn’t let me go as he tries to give me some kind of comfort.
What’s even more shocking is that it’s working.
My tears slow and the ache in my chest eases oh so slightly and when he pulls away, I almost want to drag his lips back to mine. He drags his thumb across my cheek, wiping away my tears, before leaning in and planting three more kisses against my lips.
“I’m so sorry, Izzy. So fucking sorry and I get it now. I understand why you’ve been running from me as hard as you have been.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to do that anymore, Diego… but I don’t know how to let you in. I’m fucking broken. Can’t you see that?”
“No,” he snaps, shaking his head and the determination in his eyes shouldn’t surprise me but it does. “I can’t see that and…”
His phone rings, cutting him off and he sighs as he reaches into his pocket and pulls it out, checking the screen. He looks irritated as he answers the call and turns it on speakerphone.
“What’s up, Streak?”
“Hey,” he answers. “Where are you?”
Diego’s eyes narrow. “Out. Why?”
“You’re going to want to come back to the clubhouse. I’ve got things to share with everyone.”
“Yeah,” he answers, his eyes meeting mine. “Okay. I’ll be there soon.”
I scramble out of his lap as fast as my swollen belly will allow and he watches me as he hangs up the phone before sighing. Once I’m back in my seat, I glance over at him and he locks eyes with me. The fire staring back at me is one I’ve become well acquainted with since moving in with Diego and I know there is no way in hell he’s going to let this go.
Shit.
Do I even want him to?
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Diego
Fuck me.
Izzy’s story is playing on repeat in my mind as I drive into the clubhouse parking lot, just like it has been during the entire drive back to the compound, and each time it makes the loop start all over again, I feel my anger grow. It’s like magma bubbling under the surface; hot, fierce, and ready to erupt. No matter how many times I replay everything she told me in my mind, each time is like a kick to the gut. Her words, her broken voice, echo inside my head, urging me to take action and do something to make this right for her. Gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white, I clench my teeth to keep myself from asking any more questions that I’m not sure I want the answers to. One thing is for sure, though, as soon as we’re done with church, I’m going to get Streak alone and ask him to track down this Conner kid so I can kill him with my bare hands.
The way her voice cracked as she told me about the things he said and did to her makes my blood boil. It’s not as obvious as the usual assholes that the club deals with but the mental abuse he inflicted on her is probably even more insidious than if he had used his fists to knock her around. I mean, Jesus… she’s been carrying this around for fourteen fucking years and the way he treated her is so vile and disgusting that I’m not even sure he’s really human. If he is, he desperately needs to be taught a fucking lesson and I’m all too eager to teach him one.
As I pull into a parking spot near the front door, I peek over at her and she meets my eyes, pasting a smile on her face that isn’t even trying to be sincere. My heart fucking aches as I think about the pain that was radiating off of her as she told me her story, the way her body sagged like it took every ounce of energy she had to force the words out of her mouth. And all I want to do is make it go away. Back when I was a cocky kid, I had this girlfriend who always told me that I couldn’t fix anyone that didn’t want to be fixed but that’s bullshit. Not that Izzy needs to be fixed. She’s perfect. She just needs someone to help her heal and I’m single-minded in my new mission to do just that.
Tearing my gaze from hers, I look up at the clubhouse and sigh as my stomach sinks. I hate to leave her right now, when I know she needs me, but I’m eager to hear what Streak has found. Besides, the sooner we can put an end to all this, the sooner I can turn my full focus to Izzy and healing the deep wounds that are still causing her all this pain.
“Diego,” she whispers and I turn back to her as she slides across the seat and places her hand on my chest. My eyes close and I soak up her touch, never able to get enough. The haunting, aching sadness in my chest flares when she leans in and presses her lips to mine, so fucking soft and sweet that I want to wrap her up in my arms and take her somewhere safe, somewhere that she’ll never get hurt again. So much makes sense to me now, so many things that made my head spin are finally clear, and I’m torn between being her guardian or her avenging angel. She pulls away just enough to meet my eyes and smiles again, this one a little more genuine. “I’m okay.”
I shake my head. “I’m not.”
“God, I’m so sor….”
“No,” I growl, reaching up and playing with a lock of her dark curly hair as I shake my head. “You will not apologize for the shit that was done to you. I don’t ever want to hear you do that, understand?”
She arches a brow. “You’re getting awfully bossy all of a sudden.”
“You like me bossy. Or did you forget?”
; “I didn’t forget,” she replies, her gaze going soft as she shifts next to me on the seat, dragging her teeth along her bottom lip. Glancing down, I barely hold back a groan at the sight of her nipples pressing against my t-shirt, begging for my touch. Fuck. That’s exactly what we need right now. We need to shut out the rest of the world and lose ourselves in each other until we pass out from exhaustion. My dick fully agrees, jerking in my jeans at the idea.
“Let me deal with this shit and then we’ll head home, okay?” I say, dragging my thumb down the center of her bottom lip. My tongue darts out, desperate for another taste of her and she sucks in a breath, peeking up at me with a look that could melt steel. “Maybe make us both feel better.”
“What if I can’t wait?” she whispers, a frantic need in her voice that makes my cock jerk as I close my eyes and try to keep a firm grip on my control. A soft moan fills the cab of the truck a second before she seals her lips over mine. I groan, fisting her hair and she gasps, opening up to me. Flicking my tongue against hers, I drag her closer. Her hands slip underneath my shirt, skating down my abs and I rip my mouth from hers, shaking my head as I struggle to catch my breath.
“Fuck, baby. You have no idea how badly I want to take you home and throw you down on the bed but I need ten minutes. Fifteen, tops. Can you give me that?”
She nods, her hands still trailing down my flesh as she licks her lips and looks up at me. “Fine. But if you’re not back in fifteen minutes, I’m coming in to get you.”
“I’d love to see Storm’s face if you did that but you know you can’t,” I tell her and she rolls her eyes.
“Fine, but you’ll have to make it up to me later for every minute you make me wait.”
A grin stretches across my face. “Shit. I don’t know if I like the sound of that or not. What are you going to do to me?”
“I’ll never tell,” she teases, kissing me again before she pulls away. As she moves toward the passenger door, I debate pulling her back to me but we need to deal with whatever Streak found before I can lose myself in the woman I love. With a sigh, I open my door and climb out, meeting Izzy at the front of the truck and grabbing her hand. She leans into me as we walk into the clubhouse and I kiss the top of her head as we pass by the war room. Everyone else is already sitting around the table, waiting for me so I reluctantly release her.
