Protector: Silent Phoenix MC Series: Book Four

by Myers, Shannon

  “I liked killin’, princess. I still love it. Ain’t no other high quite like it.”

  Her throat bobbed up and down in a swallow, and I knew I’d said too much. She was going to throw me out, and I couldn’t say I blamed her.

  “I feel that too,” she quietly admitted, and my heart damn near stopped. “I can’t stop thinking about the night I went after Manny, and how good it felt to be in control. Sometimes, I dream about killing him. Like, if you hadn’t shown up…”

  “Someday, I’ll teach you everything I know.” I wasn’t ready to admit that Manny was still alive.

  Not yet.

  Celia’s head jerked back in shock. “You will?”

  I gnawed at the corner of my lip and nodded. “You got just as much reason to go after these guys as I do.”

  Maybe it was all the result of trauma. I’d been turned into a monster because of what happened to my mother, and Celia had been turned into one because of me and my actions.

  To survive, we needed each other.

  “What does that mean exactly?”

  “It means…” I brought her fingers up to my mouth, placing a kiss against each knuckle. “That when the time is right, I’ll teach you how to kill a man properly.”

  She moved her hand behind my neck, trying to bring my mouth up to hers, but I pulled away, pressing my lips to her forehead instead.

  When I released her hands and stood up, she let out a soft sigh of disappointment. I turned away, fighting a smile because it wasn’t what she thought.

  My wife was still wearing her wedding ring; I would’ve missed it had the diamond not scraped against my neck. She hadn’t had it on that night at the motel.

  It was a sign.

  That she hadn’t given up on me.

  On us.

  If I wanted to see it on her finger for the rest of my life, then I had to be different. I couldn’t go after her like I had before; using her body to satisfy my own needs.

  Until there were no more secrets between us, I’d hold back on what I wanted and just focus on helping her heal.

  She needed me to be her rock.

  Her protector.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Celia: 2005

  I stubbed my toe on the small stereo sitting in the middle of the living room floor and muttered a soft curse. “Kate! You can’t just leave your stuff lying on the floor. It’s going to get broken!”

  She looked up from the magazine in her hand with a roll of her eyes, and coldly replied, “I’m listening to it.”

  Dakota watched the exchange with raised eyebrows before leaping up from the couch and disappearing down the hall to their bedroom.

  “Mary Katherine, do not roll your eyes at me—”

  “Where are you going?” she asked, looking me over.

  “I’m not going anywhere, but you, on the other hand, are going to be grounded if you can’t pick up your stuff.”

  She frowned. “But you’re wearing a dress. You haven’t worn a dress in years.”

  I glanced down at the brick-red dress that had been gathering dust in the back of my closet. I couldn’t explain it. I’d had a dream that Jamie and I were on a beach, walking hand in hand, and stopping to gather seashells. I’d been wearing a chiffon cover-up that just reached the tops of my thighs, and he couldn’t keep his hands off of me.

  It didn’t matter that I’d never been anywhere tropical alone, much less with him; it felt so real.

  When I woke up, I found myself wanting to recreate the feelings the dream had conjured up; I wanted to feel sexy again. Wearing a dress had seemed like the answer.

  “Maybe I just felt like wearing a dress, Kate,” I stated before pointing toward their bedroom. “Clean up. Now.”

  I jerked my head toward the front window at the sound of a motorcycle and fought a smile, feeling like a teenager again.

  The night he’d shown up, I’d had a nightmare. Cobra had come back, but this time, Kate walked in as he assaulted me. The carpet fibers had dug into my palms as I dragged my body toward her, but it didn’t matter how fast I moved, I never got any closer.

  I woke to sheets drenched in my own sweat and urine, still hearing her screams of pain.

  Jamie was the last person I’d wanted to see, but the only one who seemed to be able to bring down my walls. Finally knowing the truth about what had happened to his mother reawakened feelings in me that I thought were dead.

  Since then, I found myself creeping out of bed in the middle of the night to watch from the laundry room window as he slept in the hammock, wishing I was brave enough to invite him inside.

  I jumped at the sound of the doorbell and pulled myself from my fantasy to answer it. Angel held up a hand in greeting and smiled, and I could’ve sworn he was reading my mind.

  “Angel. Hi.” My cheeks flamed in embarrassment.

  “Hey, I’m here to pick up the girls.”

  I frowned. “Pick them up for what? Did we set something up and I’m just forgetting?”

  He opened his mouth just as Lucy pulled up in her big SUV. “Hey,” she called through the open window. “Are they ready?”

  Wolverine climbed out of the passenger seat and walked Angel’s bike into my garage as I struggled to remember what day it was.

  “I’m sorry. I feel like I forgot to write something down on my calendar. You’ll have to remind me what you’re all here for.”

  Angel grinned. “We said we were takin’ the girls to the lake this weekend. Remember?”

  I shook my head. “When did we plan this?”

  Dakota squeezed past me and went flying off the front porch. “Aunt Lucy, I got my bag packed, but I just remembered…” she paused to catch her breath. “I don’t have a fishing pole. Can I still come?”

  “Wait a minute,” I protested. “Everyone knew about this trip, but me?”

  “Yeah,” Kate stated flatly from behind me. “Surprise.”

  “The girls mentioned having a long weekend, and we thought it’d be fun to get away for a few days. I could’ve sworn we talked about this,” Lucy said with a wince.

  “Well, I don’t have a bag packed, but if you’ll just give me a minute—”

  Wolverine emerged from the garage with a shake of his head. “Sorry, Celia, you ain’t goin’. Only got room for the girls and Angel this time around.”

  “I could drive my own car.”

  Angel shook his head. “Nah, that piece of shit would never make it up to the cabin. You stay here and enjoy a weekend off.”

  Kate lugged a large suitcase out onto the porch and handed it over to Angel while Wolverine retrieved Dakota’s stuff from inside. I stood, dumbfounded, feeling like the world’s worst mother.

  “You don’t want me to go? You’re sure?” I pleaded.

  Dakota shook her head. “Nope. We’re good. Bye, Mama.”

  Kate sighed dramatically and wrapped an arm around me. “You should be happy. Now, you can clean the whole house without anyone messing it up again.”

  “But—”

  Angel wrapped me up in a bear hug, whispering, “Ain’t one thing gonna happen to either of them on my watch. You deserve a weekend. Don’t fuckin’ clean. Don’t lift a goddamn finger. Just relax.”

  I nodded and watched as they climbed in and drove off, unable to shake the feeling that there was something they weren’t telling me.

  The house seemed too quiet without the sounds of the girls’ bickering. I paced from room to room, picking up stray hair ties and socks while wondering if maybe I’d been too hard on them. The trip had obviously been a way for them to get away from me.

  Why else would they have left on Easter weekend?

  I was so caught up in second-guessing my every parenting decision that I almost missed the knock at the door.

  “Oh, thank the saints,” I muttered, all but racing to answer. It was an early April Fool’s Day joke. Dakota had been plotting ways to trick me for weeks now, but I hadn’t ever imagined she’d go as far as a fake trip.

&n
bsp; My hand fell uselessly from the doorknob when I opened it, because it wasn’t the girls.

  It was Jamie.

  Or someone who used to be Jamie.

  His long, dark blond hair was gone. There was just a little bit of length left on the top, but the sides had been trimmed above his ears. The beard that had always been a wiry mess was now cut and groomed to perfection, but that wasn’t what had my knees buckling beneath me.

  My biker was wearing a suit.

  The man who’d insisted on a leather vest and jeans for our wedding was standing before me in a light gray suit and tie. I’d grown up around men in suits, and while Jamie’s wasn’t custom, it molded around his muscles perfectly.

  It was like looking at a stranger.

  He thrust a bouquet of Indian paintbrush flowers into my hands with a nervous smile. “Hey, Celia.”

  “You got a haircut,” I responded dumbly.

  He scratched at his jaw, the grin on his face widening. “I did. Like to take you out, if you’re free.”

  I blinked slowly, expecting to wake up at any moment. This wasn’t real. Instead of pinching myself, I prayed that I’d be able to stay in the moment forever.

  “You know,” I bit down on my lower lip with a grin. “My schedule is suddenly wide open. Would you happen to know anything about that?”

  “Not a fuckin’ clue,” he smirked. “I, uh, I got my bike out front.” He gestured toward the driveway behind him.

  I tried to hide my excitement and fear with a casual nod. I’d never been on his bike. By the time we’d decided on a relationship, I was pregnant with Kate. From there, our lives had gone in separate directions, and any alone time we had was reserved for one thing.

  He reached for my hand and carefully led me down the steps as the neighbor sitting on his porch across the street lowered his newspaper to watch. I doubted they’d recognize him. I barely did. I hiked up my dress, and he helped me onto the back of the bike before leaning down until his mouth brushed against the shell of my ear. “Fuckin’ love your dress, princess.”

  I fought against the quiver in my thighs and gripped the metal beneath my seat. He took the flowers and tucked them into the saddlebag before climbing on. My body instinctively moved down the hard leather seat to his back. Keeping my dress bunched up in my lap, I wrapped my arms around his waist and held on as the bike fired up with a rumble.

  Vibrations moved straight through my core, and I clenched my legs around him with a muffled groan as he pulled out onto the street.

  The wind in my face almost stole my breath as it lifted the hair off my shoulders, whipping it wildly around my face. I squeezed my eyes shut against the stinging slap with a manic grin.

  It felt like coming home.

  I pressed my cheek against the center of his back and watched as we blew past farmers just beginning to plant their crops, the brown fields and green tractors blending together into one.

  Exhilaration flooded my veins, and I found I was almost disappointed when he slowed to turn down a dirt road. Unlike the rest of the desert landscape, we were now surrounded by trees stretching at least sixty feet in the air.

  “Pecan orchard,” Jamie shouted over the bike before making another turn.

  We passed a large red barn before pulling up in front of a modest Folk Victorian farmhouse with a large covered porch. Its steep-pitched gabled roof with decorative trim reminded me of the houses I used to draw as a child.

  He shut the bike off and turned back to me. “You like it?”

  My body felt as if it was still vibrating as I climbed off the bike, causing me to stumble slightly as I made my way up the worn steps. “Like it? It’s gorgeous. It even has a porch swing! Will the owners care that we’re here?” I asked while looking through the front window.

  “The owner is here.”

  I looked back at him in surprise. “You live here?”

  The corner of his mouth turned up slightly. “Well, not lately, no. Been campin’ outdoors more.”

  My fingers trailed over the wooden porch swing, and I kicked off my sandals before sinking down onto it with a contented sigh before declaring, “If I lived out here, I’d never leave. It’s so quiet and peaceful.”

  Jamie leaned against the railing, watching me with an unreadable expression on his face. When he stayed silent, I added, “How’d you find it?”

  “It was Angel’s,” he said, retrieving the pack of cigarettes from the inside of his jacket. He tapped one out and offered it to me.

  I shook my head. “I quit.”

  He lit up and took a long drag before asking, “Since when?”

  “Since Dakota found my pack in the freezer while looking for Sundae Cones. She got Kate involved, and I received quite the lecture on the dangers of smoking.”

  “I wish I could’ve been there to see that.” Jamie stared off into the orchard.

  “So, Angel used to live out here?”

  “Well, he bought the house for me and my ma. Was gonna move us in once the club took care of my old man. When he lost her, he refused to come back, and it sat empty.”

  “Did you know it was here? Back then, I mean.”

  He shook his head. “Not until about three years ago. I got sick of stayin’ out at the clubhouse, and he told me about it. Wolverine and Bear helped me fix it up, and I’ve been out here ever since.”

  “Oh.” I nodded to myself before getting up, keeping my back to him as I moved over to the porch steps. “Is this where you’ve been the whole time?”

  It shouldn’t have upset me. I’d pushed him away; I didn’t get a say in where he went afterward. I guess I’d always assumed he would’ve become a nomad, moving from place to place as he tracked down the men who hurt me; not living alone out in the country.

  “Come on.” He hopped off the railing. “Got somethin’ I wanna show you.”

  I pushed my hurt feelings aside and let him lead me around to the back of the house where a gingham blanket was spread beneath a massive oak tree. The red cooler on top had kept it from blowing away.

  “What’s all this?” I asked, brushing the hair back off my forehead.

  He stripped the suit jacket off and directed me to sit before proudly announcing, “I made us lunch.”

  No matter how much I wanted to stay mad at him, I couldn’t fight the smile that crept onto my face when he pulled out bologna and cheese sandwiches and bags of tortilla chips.

  A sharp pain pricked the base of my nose, the feeling almost foreign. I hadn’t been able to cry in years, yet was close to it because of lunchmeat.

  I quickly turned away as a burst of laughter broke free from my chest.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” The sound of my high-pitched voice caused me to snort, and I slapped a palm over my mouth and doubled over.

  “Celia,” Jamie said calmly. “The fuck are you laughin’ at?”

  “It’s—I just—” I gasped for air and tried to compose myself before slumping over again with a wide grin.

  His hands moved up under my armpits, and I rolled onto my back, fighting to escape the tickling. “I’ll stop,” I begged. “I will!”

  He propped himself up onto his forearms and looked down at me with narrowed eyes. “You were expectin’ somethin’ fancy, right? You’re disappointed?”

  I trailed my fingers through his short hair and looked up at the heavy clouds rolling in. “Do I look disappointed?”

  “Why’d you laugh?”

  I realized then that it wasn’t anger, but worry, in his eyes. It was apparent he’d gone to a lot of trouble to set the entire day up; even recruiting Angel and Wolverine to help. He’d mistaken my amusement for condescension.

  “Hey,” I squeezed his jaw. “I wasn’t laughing at you. It’s just that I haven’t gotten emotional in years and seeing this—” I gestured around us. “I just can’t believe you did all of it for me.”

  He rocked back onto his heels. “You haven’t cried?”

  “Not since they…” I realized wha
t I was about to say and smoothed my dress out before sitting up. “It’s just been a while.”

  “Why?” His stare seemed to move through the sugarcoated facade I presented and into my soul. The sandwiches and chips lay forgotten in between us as I took in his question.

  “Why were you out here?” I snapped, bracing myself for the blow-up. “All this time? You could’ve been chasing—you should’ve stopped this!”

  Jamie ran his tongue over his teeth and nodded. “I could’ve, but I had to get clean and sober first.”

  My mouth fell open. “You… you relapsed?”

  Had I known that?

  He’d been drunk the night he’d surprised me on the patio, but had I known then what it meant? So much of the early years after the attack were shrouded in a fog, details becoming nothing more than blurs.

  “I was in a bad place. Drugs… booze… whatever I could do to make it not hurt, I did. Mikey got into some trouble, along with some other shit, and I couldn’t fuckin’ take it. If it hadn’t been for Slim…” His nostrils flared as his voice trailed off.

  I crawled over and climbed onto his lap. “What did Slim do? Is Mikey okay? Jesus, are you okay?”

  His arms came up around me, and my heart raced in my chest as he recounted the events leading up to his decision to get sober. My chest ached at the realization that, because of my actions, I’d almost lost him for good.

  The very thing I’d feared had come to pass, all because I pushed him away. I’d put the gun in his hand by being too proud to admit the truth about that night.

  “I moved out of the clubhouse and stayed out here with Slim as I detoxed, which was a fuckin’ nightmare. Threw up everything but my toenails and all I wanted to do was sleep, but couldn’t, so I stayed awake, roaming the house like a fuckin’ zombie.”

  Without thinking, I dropped my head and pressed my lips to the corner of his mouth. He stiffened and lowered me back to the picnic blanket before moving away.

  It was as if there was some part of him that knew it was all my fault.

  The first drop of rain landed on my arm, quickly followed by another and Jamie sprang into action, tossing the food back into the cooler and tugging the picnic blanket over our heads as we raced up the back steps and into the house.