The Finish Line

by Stewart , Kate

  I can hear the satisfaction in the sick fuck’s voice with his parting words.

  “Don’t keep me waiting, Ezekiel.”

  The line goes dead as his threat hangs heavy in the air, and I start at a dead run past the tree line, all the while paralyzed inside. I carefully go over every possible move, knowing that I’m fucked in every direction.

  Once behind the wheel, I pull up the text, and my finger hovers for seconds before I slowly backspace until I’ve deleted it.

  The decision’s been made for me.

  She’ll need protection from the club moving forward. She’ll wake up marked, and she’ll hate me for it. Another unforgivable deception I’ll have to live with.

  Hours later, I slam my phone down on my desk and sink in my chair in my Charlotte office, where I’ve been since I left King’s Garage, in an attempt to do damage control with Dom and Sean. I’ve spent nearly the entire day negotiating with a fucking madman in the bed I made years ago. I wired a significant amount of lunch money to keep the bully at bay, to keep him as far the fuck as possible away from my brothers, my club, and the woman I love.

  And in doing so, I agreed to a new arrangement, one that will have me under his heel for some time to come. But it’s not my newly forced allegiance to him that’s eating me alive. If I can manage to get my club and relationships under control, then I can better figure out a way to deal with Antoine, even if it means declaring war and bringing him down. It’s the fallout with my brothers at our garage just hours ago that has me feeling defeated in a way I never imagined possible.

  No matter what I do from this point, I already feel like I’ve lost everything.

  She woke up hours ago, no doubt feeling violated in a way that’s incomprehensible to her. And I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there to attempt to explain myself or my reasoning for doing what I did. And at this point, I know they won’t matter.

  Swallowing down the guilt, I scan the Charlotte skyline, my hands tied in a way they’ve never been. The helplessness I feel is inescapable, my fate and future sealed as Shelly comes in with another cup of coffee. “Honey, you look like hell. Drink this.” She places the offering on my desk as Sean and Dom’s condemning words circle my mind, my jaw sore from the punch Sean threw as their parting words to me rip my insides apart. Shelly lingers at my desk, and I can feel her concern, her hesitance before she finally speaks. “I know this isn’t the time, but you have a call—”

  “Take a message.”

  “He said it’s urgent, regarding someone named Cecelia.”

  Every hair on the back of my neck stands on end as I head straight to the blinking light on my desk and lift the receiver. “Did they give a name?”

  She nods. “Roman Horner.”

  That phone call and the hours after I’ve replayed so many times at this point, I re-live it vividly. From the meeting with Roman that changed everything I thought about him, to the two terrifying hours I spent speeding back to Triple Falls to try and get to her. To the minute Dom lay dying in her arms and down to the second our eyes held just after I ordered her never to return. In twenty-four hours, my life exploded, and a war began.

  That night I truly lost it all. Every bit of my control, along with my brother, Cecelia, my club, everything that fucking mattered to me because I hesitated when making decisions due to my emotions. I can’t make that mistake again. I can’t hesitate. I can’t lose her because of it. I have to let the emotionless soldier—the monster that dwells inside me—take over if I want to gain the upper hand with Antoine.

  I can’t let love make a single fucking decision for me.

  There’s a storm brewing, and it’s one I can’t see, but I can feel it, just like I felt it all those years ago. I have to fucking figure out his intentions—his plays. And more than that, I have to be several moves ahead of him.

  Without Palo, I’m a sitting duck. A phone call with Antoine isn’t going to convince me one way or the other. And without a word from him for the last month, I know it’s just a matter of time before he comes calling. This time, I’ll be ready. I’ve spent the last six years satiating his demands while trying to clean up my own fucking mess. My plans to rid myself of him are taking a back seat to the recovery of the club. I was intent on keeping him at bay while we rebuilt, and with Cecelia’s sudden arrival and my efforts to get back to her, I waited too fucking long to move in on him.

  I never make the same mistake twice.

  Because of love, I’ve made that declaration a lie.

  And I’m a man In. Fucking. Love.

  If it’s war this motherfucker is after, my peacekeeping days are long over.

  Decision made, I stalk toward the house, and twenty minutes later, I speed out of the driveway in the Camaro.

  “Order up, Cecelia,” Travis calls, just as I shoot off a text to Tobias. He’s been quiet all morning, which has me slightly on edge. I left him sleeping this morning and snuck away with a brief kiss to his lips, which he returned while attempting to pull me into him, still submerged in sleep.

  “I’ve got it, boss,” my new hire, Alena, announces as the distinct sound of a familiar engine sounds in the parking lot drawing every eye toward the source of the noise. A second later, Tobias pulls to a screeching halt just in front of the doors as the hairs on my arms rise and panic sinks in. Too far from my Beretta, I scan the restaurant for anyone that might seem a threat. In the next second, he’s out of the Camaro looking both tortured and devastating in dark-washed jeans, a black T-shirt, and matching cardigan that showcases every inch of muscle in his tension-filled shoulders. But it’s the purpose in which he walks and the expression on his face that has me on high alert. When he charges through the door, all chattering ceases. I nearly jump out of my skin when Marissa sounds up behind me.

  “Oh shit, girl. What did you do?”

  He’s pure intimidation. His fire-filled eyes find mine across the counter as he prowls toward me, jaw set and hellfire running rampant in his eyes. He stalks toward me and rounds the counter, no fucks given about the spectacle he’s making. Swallowing, I brace myself for a fight when he reaches me, his eyes flitting with emotions I can’t pinpoint. Chest heaving, he looks like he’s about to burst at the seams as he stares down at me, demanding explanation but asking for none. I nearly flinch when he holds out his hand.

  “Come with me.” His voice is hoarse as if he’s been screaming the entirety of the ride here.

  “Tobias, I’m working.”

  He nods over my shoulder to Marissa, and I follow his line of sight to see her grinning like a lunatic.

  Traitor.

  “She’ll be out for the rest of the day.”

  “Tobias,” I begin to protest when he grips the back of my head and bends so we’re eye to eye, his tumultuous gaze tearing a hole right through my resolve. This isn’t the same man I kissed goodbye this morning. This is the very man who tore through my soul with a kiss the second time we met.

  “Not debatable.” He scoops me off my feet in a fireman’s hold as more objections fly out my mouth and light laughter echoes around us. I’m barely able to sputter out quick orders as Marissa assures me that she’s got it handled while he carries me out of the restaurant. Opening the car door with ease, despite my weight, he deposits me in the Camaro, and a second later, we’re tearing out of the parking lot. Locked into the seat by speed alone, I can’t help but admire the sheer beauty of his profile and the power he exudes as he transitions the car easily from one gear to the next.

  “What the hell is going on?” My words come out a muddled mix of fear and demand.

  He jerks his head toward me, cutting off my protest, his jaw set grimly, his eyes swimming with resolution. Though the picture of control, I can feel him coming apart next to me.

  He takes a curve at neck-breaking speed and then a quick right onto the road that leads to my house. He remains mute as a thousand or more scenarios for his upset race through my mind just before he skids to a stop in the driveway. Before I can blink, he�
�s pulling me from the car and leading me into the house with his hand on my wrist. I fumble with my words as he unlocks the door.

  “Tobias—”

  Once inside, he presses me against it and gazes down at me.

  “Explain yourself, right now, King. What happened?”

  “What happened?” His tone is gravel. “I lost you. I fucking lost you. And I won’t do it again.”

  I search his face for any clue as to what brought this on when my attention falls on the packed duffle bag sitting just a few feet away. He follows my line of sight and turns back to me, his intent clear.

  He’s ready for this fight.

  “DON’T YOU DARE LEAVE ME!” The voice is mine, the plea is from me, but it’s not my heart speaking. It’s my soul that’s screaming now.

  “I have to. It’s just a few days. I’ll be back—”

  “No!” I shake my head furiously. “No!”

  “Trésor,” his voice wavers slightly, “please, look at me.” He’s fully intent on leaving me. I turn my head as the blow penetrates so deep, I’m unable to breathe. But something inside me cracks as I manage to find my fight, my body blistering with outrage.

  “You promised we would make our decisions together. You promised never to leave me!”

  “And you promised to let me protect you. A promise above all others.”

  “No! A promise to you above all others I’ve made, not the promises you made to me. You’re not getting away with this. If you walk out this door, we’re done. You walk out this door. I won’t ever let you back in. Not ever.”

  “I have to. I have to. And you have to trust me.”

  I shake my head, incredulous. “You’re never going to stop breaking my heart, are you? You’re never going to stop lying to me!” I feel it then, the walls threatening to go up, and he can sense it too because I hear the pained grunt escape him as he presses in to try and get the response he wants.

  “I have no choice, listen to me,” it’s an order. An order from the man who forced himself into my heart years ago. It’s my resurrected King speaking. It’s him who’s seeking an audience now—the man who’s planned and plotted his way around his whole life. The same man I took on years ago, and it’s the very same man I glare at now as he gazes down at me, his mind made up.

  “I’m done listening, as long as that packed bag exists. Fuck you, Tobias.”

  “Stop it, Cecelia,” he scolds, but I’m not having it. Not this time, and not any other.

  “You leave, and we’re done. It’s that simple.”

  The intensity and emotions rolling off him are far too potent to look away. It’s only the slap of my hand against his skin that brings relief, the pain I’m inflicting that releases the anger. I want to tear him apart for what he’s doing. Bitter tears spring to my eyes as he grips my hair in his fist, bending so we’re eye to eye.

  “You have to trust me. I’m doing it so we can have more of this life together.”

  “I don’t trust you. You haven’t earned my trust back yet. Not even close. And if you walk out this door, you’ll never have it, and you’ll never have me. Not fucking ever!”

  He forces my eyes to his with his grip, and I close them, a tear rolling down my cheek as I start to shut down, bit by bit. “Don’t do this,” I warn. “If you do, you put a bullet in us. I’m not bluffing, Tobias. I’ll give you anything but this.”

  Recognition seeps into his gaze, and he knows I mean it.

  “You’re the one who has to trust, Tobias. You have to trust me, and you just can’t, can you? After all we’ve been through, you can’t trust in us at all. You refuse to believe that no matter what happens, whatever comes our way, whatever danger we face, we can face it together. But you’ve hardwired yourself not to. But hear me, I won’t bend on this. I won’t forgive this. I’ll never look back if you break us this way.”

  “Look at me, Cecelia.”

  “You don’t want me to look at you right now, Tobias, because all I’ll see when I do is a fucking liar who continually breaks my heart—and his promises. And up until ten minutes ago, I saw a man who I would walk through eternal hell for. This is the one thing you can do that will end us for good.”

  I slam my palms against his chest. “So close. I was so fucking close. I guess third time is the charm for you, isn’t it?”

  “Cecelia—”

  He’s really going to do it. He’s leaving me.

  “This is it, Tobias, of all the decisions you’ve made, this will be the one to make or break us. And it’s yours to make. I made mine. All you have to do is trust me. There’s no other way around it. I’m not waiting for you to come to the right conclusion, and your time is already running out. You made a fucking promise to me. And you already broke the first two by refusing to tell me what’s going on. You think I’m ignorant to the fact that you’re hiding something? You think I’m fucking ignorant to you? You can’t hide from me!”

  “I don’t know what’s going on,” he explodes, “and that’s the truth! I can’t give you a truth I don’t have! I don’t know what’s going on, and I can’t protect us if I’m in the fucking dark.”

  “But you know something, right? Enough about something to know where to look, right?” I counter, his eyes lower, and more tears slide free.

  “You’re ruining this. We just got each other back, and you’re ruining this because you refuse to fucking trust me!”

  His eyes flicker as he keeps me pinned to the door. I’m not sure who’s blocking who anymore, but while my hope shrivels, my goddamned heart is still fighting, and I know without a doubt I mean every word I’m saying. This I can’t forgive. This I refuse to forgive.

  A pained grunt leaves him as he claims my mouth in a searing kiss, and I jerk away, snapping at his lips, which only earns me a pleasured groan. I push at his chest. “You’ll get no farewell kiss from me, you sick bastard. You always did love the taste of the tears you cause.”

  “Oh, I’m fucking sick, all right. Sick of being afraid of what I can’t see! I can’t do anything if I don’t know what’s happening! I can’t protect you if I don’t know what’s coming!” He shakes his head as if I’m clueless and spins me, using his weight to press me to the door. I scream out in frustration, furious that I’m unable to move, furious he’s using his strength to restrain me. He’s too strong, and I’m powerless against him. “I hate you,” it comes from deep within as he presses his full weight into me, anger rolling off his frame.

  “Je t’aime,” I love you, he says, pressing his chest into my back, laying his forehead against my shoulder. “Don’t shut me out, Cecelia. Wait for me.”

  “No!”

  “Don’t shut me out. Don’t do it. I’ll come back. I need two days. Two days. Can’t you give me that?”

  “You don’t even have two minutes. If you take longer than that, we’re over, regardless if you stay.”

  “Cecelia—”

  “No!”

  He crushes me with his chest, trying to exert his will into me, his heart pounding erratically beneath my shoulder blade as his arm snakes around my stomach, and he unfastens my jeans before ripping them down my legs.

  “Stop it!” I yell as he pulls my sneakers and socks off. I buck against him as he easily pins me back to the door with one hand.

  He grips my shirt, and I cross my arms.

  “Stop it! You aren’t getting me fucking naked right now!”

  He slams his fist into the door, the frame rattling.

  “You promised me, Cecelia!”

  “And you promised me!”

  “Don’t you get it? I can steal your time, your attention, and even your body, but I can’t take what I came back for!”

  “That’s right, and you’re not getting it. Not if you do this to me again! You walk out of this door—there’s no coming back.”

  He lets out a guttural roar and flips me in his arms, ripping my shirt from me as I claw at his shoulders in an attempt to push him away.

  “Stop it, King! Wha
t the fuck are you doing?”

  Undeterred, his patience evaporated, he strips me, yanking down my bra and panties until I’m completely bare.

  “You don’t get to do this and get any part of me.” I go to move around him, and he lifts me easily as I scratch and claw at him until he deposits me next to the couch. He jerks me by the arm to face the back of it before hooking both my arms behind me with one of his. Struggling beneath him, I buck as he keeps me hostage and completely at his mercy.

  “You fucking monster!”

  His voice is even when he speaks. “Only when I have to be, and for you, I will be.”

  I jerk against him, my struggle futile as he keeps me immobilized by his strength. Anger like I’ve never known courses through me at his betrayal.

  “You’re going to pull this bullshit, then you fucking face me, you coward!”

  “Why bother? You hate me for who I am.”

  “I hate you for what you hide!”

  “I’m not hiding now.” He leans down, folding his body over mine, and whispers in my ear as furious tears cloud my vision. His voice is filled with venom when he speaks.

  “This rage you’re feeling, the helplessness you feel right now, the fear of not knowing what’s coming, feeling exposed in a way that fucking humiliates and infuriates you, leaving you powerless,” he grunts out, each word more pained in delivery, “is exactly what I feel every time you’re threatened, and I don’t know by what or who, and yet you refuse my fucking protection.”

  His words settle in just as he releases me, and I whirl and slap his chest, his face, his neck, unleashing hell. He takes every blow without so much as flinching, his eyes blazing with rage while I exhaust myself. His words barely register as my fight weakens, the desperation seeping into his eyes zaps some of my rage as I slam my palms against his heaving chest. He looks like he’s on the verge of explosion. “I just wanted you to know what your win feels like for me,” he swallows, rage controlling his voice while his eyes shine with defeat. “You win, Cecelia, I’m letting you fucking win, and I don’t know what that means.”