I pulled the sleeves of the sweatshirt down over my hands. “It doesn’t matter—”
“It does, goddammit.” His voice broke, and he swiped the back of his hand over his eyes. “Please tell me.”
“Are you crying?” The full weight of his grief settled over me, leaving me desperate for the cigarette I’d lost in the scuffle.
I wondered what it meant that Jamie was no longer the leader of Silent Phoenix. If his plan had been to abandon the club and come back home, then maybe my father was right.
My girls would never be safe.
As long as he was here, we would be vulnerable to another attack.
“Should’ve been here to protect you.”
Three years ago, I’d begged him to stay.
For me.
For the girls.
Now that he knew the depths his enemies would go to, he wanted to listen; but letting him back in would turn the girls’ world upside down. Not only that, but he couldn’t even look at me with anything other than guilt and regret. Every time I stared into his blue eyes, I would be reminded of the violence I’d suffered because he’d gotten cocky.
I’d be forced to battle my demons, and his.
All while the men who abused me got away with it.
With a deep breath, I steeled my spine and got to my feet while he remained on his knees beneath me. “I think you should go…”
“Don’t do this, Celia,” his hands connected with my knees. “Let me fix it.”
Ignoring the ache in my chest, I raised my chin and said the only thing I could; the one thing that would save us all. “I’m not sure if they told you when you got here, but I paid my debt. You didn’t need to come back.”
He was on his feet in a second, towering over me. “Don’t,” he warned. “Don’t fuckin’ say it. You were never a debt—”
“Yet, you collected. Not only that, but you reminded me constantly that we were nothing. So, as I said, I think you should go. There’s nothing for you here.”
Jamie was close enough that I could see the tears as they formed and spilled over onto his cheeks. It only left me with a sense of jealousy.
Why wasn’t he broken like me?
“Darlin’, you don’t mean that. We built a life… a family—”
“I built a life and a family while you were off with your club,” I hissed. “You don’t get to come in now to try to be a part of it. I want you to leave—”
“No, goddammit! This is important—”
“The only things that are important to me are inside that house. Go back to your club, Jamie.” Avoiding his eyes, I turned toward the door. I wanted nothing more than to run inside and hide out in my bed, but I had to be strong.
“Just like that, huh?” I looked back as he ran a hand through his hair and began pacing again. “You’re gonna file for divorce after eleven years? Like it didn’t mean shit to you?”
I took a deep breath, fighting to hold onto my resolve. “I don’t need a divorce…”
“Thank Christ.”
“You’re already dead, so I’ll settle for being a widow. It’s over.” I quickly walked inside, ignoring the painful sound of him gasping for air.
He didn’t come after me.
I paced the house, too keyed up for sleep.
I alternated between hoping he’d believed my lies, to wanting to take back my every word. The tremors that had been confined to my hands now spread throughout my entire body until I lay shaking on the couch.
I’d torn open his chest and ripped out his heart under some delusional idea that I was saving us.
All of us.
At the angry rumble of Jamie’s bike firing up and speeding off into the night, I let out the breath I’d been holding since walking away from him.
He was gone.
I didn’t know how long I laid there, haunted by my actions, and second-guessing my decision before deciding to get some sleep.
A shudder passed through my body as I stared into the dark master bedroom. Without the drugs to numb me, I was a coward who was suddenly afraid of the dark and had been sleeping on the couch.
I snagged an afghan off the back of the recliner and wrapped it around my shoulders before going into the girls’ room.
The sound of their deep breathing filled the air as I settled into the old armchair where I’d nursed and kept them safe. It gave me peace. I might not have been able to save myself, but they would come out of this unscathed.
In the end, that was all that mattered.
Jamie would go back to the club and hunt down the men responsible, and I would fight to be the mother they deserved. I closed my eyes, seeing Jamie’s tears.
When was the last time I’d seen him cry?
It had to have been Kate’s first birthday when Mikey had stayed over. He’d always kept his heart under lock and key, but in those rare moments of emotion, I realized just how good he really was. And I’d fallen in love with him a little more.
What if I’d broken him?
If my plan backfired, then I’d just sent my husband into a suicidal downward spiral by taking away everything he loved. What if the club wouldn’t take him back?
No.
I couldn’t let myself think of the alternative.
Because, if I was wrong, then we were all dead.
Chapter Five
Grey: 2001
“Jesus Christ, Grey.”
I rolled over, blinking against the sudden brightness streaming in through the open door. “If you’re wakin’ me up this early, your ass better have brought coffee.”
“Coffee?” Slim laughed. “It’s five o’clock in the fuckin’ afternoon, dickhead. Bear got some intel on the Serpents. Club’s just waitin’ on you. Get up.”
The pounding in my head demanded I sleep off the hangover before doing shit, but I’d spent the better part of six months trying to find the fuckers who laid hands on my wife.
I peeled myself out from under the damp sheets, stumbling over my boots and last night’s clothes as I took in the unfamiliar room. “Where the fuck are we, Slim?”
“Motel, just outside of Pearland,” he answered before looking up at me. “Fuck! Put some goddamn clothes on!”
My cock jutted up against my belly, clearly not giving a damn that morning wood was typically reserved for the morning. It didn’t matter that she’d ended things between us; every day I woke up harder than a fucking rock, with the image of her in my head.
That was all it took.
It was just like the old days. I should’ve been impressed that an old fuck like me could walk around with a constant hard-on without the help of a little blue pill.
Comedian had tried sending me whores, but I refused to touch another woman. I’d made a vow, and if that meant I spent the rest of my life jacking off six or seven times a day to thoughts of her like some teenage boy, so be it.
“You hear me, fucker?” He turned around. “Jesus Christ, Grey! The fuck is wrong with you?”
I watched, mesmerized, as my hand moved up and down the shaft like it didn’t even belong to me anymore. “It’s doing it all by itself, Slim. Polite thing to do would be to let it finish.”
“You ain’t hungover—you’re still strung out. What the fuck did you take?”
My hand continued stroking as I sauntered over and took a swig from the half-empty bottle of tequila on the dresser. I scanned the room, just as curious as Slim to see what I’d done.
The weeks and months since leaving her had been spent finding new and creative ways to fuck myself up. If I did it just right, I’d buy myself a few hours where I didn’t see her broken body.
I didn’t have to watch her self-destruct just from me touching her or see the message they’d sent in the form of blood and bruises.
The numbness kept me sane until it was time to kill again. Then, and only then, did I allow myself to feel it. We may not have found the three responsible, but the trail of bodies left in my wake told me I was getting closer.
M
y eyes landed on the bag of blow sitting on the nightstand at the same time Slim’s did.
His jaw tightened, and he shook his head. “I’ll never understand why in the hell Bear allowed the club to vote you back in as Pres. You’re a fuckin’ train-wreck, you know that? And, if there’s anyone who should be completely fucked in the head, it’s still not you—it’s her!”
He was right.
Somehow, she’d found the strength to go on where I woke up alone every day, reminded of the fact that I’d failed at the most basic of tasks—keeping her safe.
Whatever remained of my high began to fade, and I dropped, bare-assed, onto the bed with a groan. “You heard from Wolverine or Angel? How’s she doin’?”
Slim tossed me the jeans from the floor. “Ain’t discussing your Ol’ Lady while your dick’s hangin’ out.”
It took talking my cock down and falling into the wall twice before I managed to get the denim on. “Okay. I’m fuckin’ decent. You happy now?”
He sat in the beaten-down armchair and lit up a cigarette. “Wolverine helped her get a job—”
“A job?” I interrupted. “Why? She has the bank account that he set up. There’s more than enough in there for her and the girls to live comfortably.”
“She ain’t used one cent of that money, Grey. He found her a job doing the back-office stuff for a bakery—it’s one of ours, but I can’t recall the name. Anyway, she don’t know the club’s runnin’ it.” He took a long drag and ran his hand over his face.
It didn’t make a damn bit of sense. If Celia was hellbent on doing something outside of the house, she could’ve used the money and taken college classes while Kate and Dakota were in school.
I frowned. “Wait. It’s summer. Where are the girls?”
Slim looked down at the threadbare carpet. “They—well, there’s no easy way to say this, but she and the girls moved in with her parents. I guess they’re keeping them while she works.”
“What?” I began pacing the shitty motel room. “Why the fuck would she go there? She hates her parents! I gave her the goddamn house… the car… money.”
“She’s selling the house. Wolverine said he didn’t blame her; hard to feel safe in a place like that.”
“So, she thinks she’s just gonna sell my childhood home, and I’m not gonna have shit to say about that?”
Slim exhaled a cloud of smoke in my direction. “The fuck you gonna do about it, Grey? According to the authorities, you’re dead. And, in the great state of Texas, everything passes on to your widow. You don’t get to say shit about shit.”
I eyed him warily. “Don’t call her that. Don’t fuckin’ call her that word.”
“What? A widow? That’s what you made her, right? When you walked out on her and the girls—”
“That’s enough, Slim,” I growled. “Don’t make me tell you again.”
He ran his tongue over his teeth with a grin. “Oh, yeah? How many times have you gone up against me and won over the years?”
With a heaving chest, I stumbled over to the nightstand and took a bump of blow while glaring up at Slim, silently daring him to stop me.
“Goddammit, Jamie.” He stabbed the cigarette out in the ashtray and stood up.
“Ain’t a fuckin’ line, Slim. Just takin’ the edge off.”
“Takin’ the edge off? The edge off of what?”
The pain in my head lessened, and I stood up straighter, finally feeling in control again. A line was for forgetting, but a bump was good for just existing. “Excuse the fuck out of me, but you’re the one who barged into my room, droppin’ the family shit on me before I was fully awake—”
“You asked about your Ol’ Lady first, asshole.” His gaze softened. “After what she went through, she deserves to move on, Grey. If she feels it’s best for her and the girls—”
My fist struck his jaw with a satisfying smack, the momentum sending me staggering past him and into the dresser. The tequila toppled off and landed on its side, distracting me just long enough for Slim to react.
He barreled into me like a freight train, and we both went down in a tangle of limbs. I managed to block his first punch; the coke in my bloodstream convincing me that I was invincible.
Unfortunately, the feeling was brief as his second, third, and fourth hits were all painfully accurate.
I clutched my gut just as he swung again, connecting with the side of my head. The throbbing that had all but disappeared only moments ago now returned with a vengeance.
“You gettin’ sick of old men kickin’ your ass yet, or you wanna keep goin’?” he asked with a snarl.
When I remained silent, he glanced a warning blow off my ribs. “Last chance, asshole. I don’t give a fuck if you’re Pres or not. It was a fuckin’ cheap shot, and your ass is gonna pay.”
I closed my eyes and nodded. “Fuckin’ hell, Slim. You’re supposed to slow down in your old age—”
“Quit the drugs. We clear?”
My stomach churned from the adrenaline and the effects of his fists, leaving me ready to hurl on the carpet. I worked on getting my breathing under control before answering. “Slim, why are you even here? Thought you went Nomad.”
Using his hand, he shifted his jaw from side to side before popping it back into place. “Seems without Wolverine and Angel around, I’m the only one who can talk any goddamn sense into you. I guess that makes me your handler. Now, get up and get your ass in the shower. We got things to discuss.”
I got up and slammed the bathroom door shut behind me like a bratty child. So, maybe my drinking and using had gotten a little out of hand; I was still doing spades better than most of the fuckers around me.
Comedian had fucked off on a week-long bimbo bender after Betsy and Mike disappeared before sampling every drug we sold. Hell, when Bear found out Molly was knocked up, he’d promptly attempted drowning himself in vodka.
But, oh no.
“John ‘Fuckin’ Killjoy’ Greene can’t let me escape reality for one goddamn second,” I grumbled to myself as I stepped under the showerhead.
The water pressure was shit, raining lukewarm water down on me like a weak stream of piss one second and stripping the skin off my back the next.
By the time I worked the soap into a lather, my cock was demanding attention again. With a grunt, I slapped a palm against the tile wall to steady myself before taking it in my fist.
Instead of conjuring up one of my usual fantasies of Celia, I kept coming back to Slim’s confession. Imagining her doing the books wasn’t working, so I tried picturing her decorating cakes before the rational part of my brain took over.
I saw her, as if she was right in front of me, wearing nothing but an apron. Her hair fell across one shoulder as she looked back at me before leaning over the long metal table in front of her.
In a fantasy that felt more real than anything I’d experienced over the last six months, Celia reached back and untied the apron, giving me an even better view of her perfect ass. When she slipped it over her head and tossed it aside, I began pumping my cock in desperation. She ran her tongue over her lower lip before hopping up onto the table and spreading her legs, inviting me in.
This was the best high I’d ever had.
I imagined positioning her on the edge of the table until her ass was damn near hanging off before burying myself to the hilt inside her tight pussy.
My teeth scraped over the white substance that coated her nipples, and I decided it was powdered sugar, not blow. My girl was good enough to eat.
More.
Vivid scenes played out in my mind, each one hotter than the last. I spread cake frosting on her belly and sucked chocolate sauce off her clit until the pressure in my spine increased, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. I let out a low growl as my dick jerked against my hand, coating the tile in front of me.
Shame immediately flooded my body, and I let out a ragged breath before dropping my chin down to my chest. I was so far beyond fucked up that there wasn’t even a w
ord for it.
It felt wrong imagining her like that, knowing what those bastards had done to her.
Knowing that I’d caused it.
I shut off the shower just as there was a quiet knock at the door. “Grey?”
“Yeah, Slim. I’ll be out in a second.” I wrapped a towel around my waist and stared into the mirror until the truth was staring back.
The king of death and the goddess of life.
She’d never belonged with me.
I just hadn’t wanted to see it back then.
I saw it now though.
* * *
“Why are you so goddamn cheerful?” I snarled, as I passed Comedian coming up the stairs with a plastic ice bucket in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other.
He stopped whistling and grinned down at me from a few steps above. “Life is good, Pres. Life is good.”
My own smile faded. “Is it?”
I wanted to knock the smirk off his face. Bear’s tip on the Serpents had been worthless. By the time we made it to League City, all traces of them were gone. It was like they’d never even been there. It seemed no matter what we did, we were always going to be one step behind.
“C’mon, Grey,” Slim urged, steering me over toward my bike.
I straddled it, watching Comedian as he made it to the second-floor landing and entered a room. “The fuck has he got to be happy about?”
My wife and daughters were living with two people I hated, and unless the Serpents were going to suddenly appear, ready to surrender, I didn’t see that there was any part of our lives that could’ve been considered good.
Slim rubbed his neck. “You ain’t gonna like it.”
“What?” I answered distractedly, taking in the cracked windows and missing shingles on the roof of the motel. I didn’t even know why we were still here. The place was a complete shit hole. It was a wonder it hadn’t been condemned.
“Betsy’s back.”
Two words that had me climbing off my bike and heading for the stairs. “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill ‘em both.”
“Grey,” Slim jogged up behind. “Just wait a goddamn second. She thinks you’re dead—”
Protector: Silent Phoenix MC Series: Book Four Page 7
