Mykel: King's Descendants MC #3
Page 6
Right.
Let’s do that.
Let’s avoid reality once more.
Let’s just eat a meal and pretend everything is okay when we all know it isn’t.
“DAX?” I CROAK, SITTING on the sideline of the trees when two people walking past again, flashlights in hand.
“Waverly?” he calls, and then the light flashes my way and he comes rushing over. “There you are. I couldn’t find you! What happened?”
My chest aches as I look up at him. “I don’t . . . you drugged me.”
He looks shocked. “What?”
“You drugged me. You said I could trust you and you drugged me . . .” My voice is frantic. Dax kneels down, and Yates stands behind him, holding the flashlight. “Honey, I didn’t drug you. Tell me what you remember?”
“Bobbie gave me a drink, and then, I don’t remember what happened. I just know I feel awful and sick, and I don’t know how I got out. It’s all a blur.”
Dax looks behind him to Yates. “Search her.”
Wait.
No.
“No, she didn’t do it,” I cry.
“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay. Let’s get you home.”
He helps me to my feet and as we walk, I glance back at the cabin where Mykel just made me feel so damned safe. He looked out for me when nobody else wanted to. My heart thuds as we walk farther and farther away from it.
Maybe I’m not cut out for this.
Maybe, just maybe, I’m not strong enough after all.
Dax gets me back to the cabin and we walk inside. I can’t see anyone else, including Bobbie and Yates. Panic grips my chest and I worry that she’s going to get hurt. I stop walking and when Dax turns to face me, I decide to test if I truly do mean anything to him. I ask him, “Please don’t get Bobbie into trouble. I’ve been right where she is. You said you’re here to help her. Please don’t punish her for that.”
He studies me, and something in his gaze changes when he looks at me. “I won’t punish her.”
With that, he walks towards my room and I follow, my head throbbing with pain. I need to lie down, and I need to do it immediately. If I don’t, I’m likely going to pass out where I stand and that won’t be pretty. I’m also covered in dirt; Briella wanted me to shower but she knew if I did, that it would look odd, so I had to go back out in my dirty clothes.
She’s a great friend, and I’m super grateful to her for being there for me.
“I’ll get you a fresh towel. Would you like anything else?” Dax asks me.
I turn to face him, and I meet his eyes. “Yeah, I would like something else.”
My mind is spinning so bad I feel like I’m going to pass out, so I’m word vomiting far more than I should be, and I have no doubt that when I wake in the morning, I’m going to regret every single word that’s about to come out of my mouth.
“What can I get you?”
“You can’t get me anything, but you can tell me . . . who are you, Dax? Who are you really?”
He stares at me, zero expression on his face. I know I have to follow through with what I’ve said even though I’m internally kicking myself, because my question likely sounds incredibly odd.
“I’m nobody, Waverly.”
Oh.
Shit.
I didn’t expect that.
I honestly didn’t.
I blink and wonder if I heard that right.
He’s nobody?
No.
Everybody is somebody.
Everybody.
But in that moment, something so clear washes into my mind. A tactic I didn’t think about earlier. I’m playing the innocent, broken girl. But what I should be really playing on is the fact that he clearly cares about me, and because of that, I should be able to get into the very depths of his soul. What if I can get him to just tell me everything I need to know? To trust me? To confide in me?
It’s tricky, because it means I have to do things I really, really don’t want to do, but it could also be a quicker way to get the hell out of here.
“I feel like you’re standing in front of me and telling me all these things, yet I don’t really know you. Not a single thing about you. I don’t know why you’d help random girls on a street. I don’t know why your gaze is so closed off I can’t see behind it. I don’t know why you’re who you are.”
He flinches as if he’s taken back by my questions. Like he never expected I’d just lunge forward like that. “Maybe one day I’ll let you in on everything I am, but the problem with unleashing the truth is that you won’t like what’s put in front of you.”
“Maybe I’ll surprise you, Dax,” I say, carefully. “Maybe you’re not the only one filled with darkness.”
Cheering on the inside at my epic little finishing line, I turn and walk off. I want him to trust me, and I know that won’t happen overnight, but if it gets us to the end result quicker then I’ll do what I have to do.
I reach the bathroom and lean in to turn on the shower. I take my top off and attempt to take off my jeans but trip when my foot gets stuck in them. I’m still way too out of it to coordinate this properly, and I am just realizing how much so when my body slams against the cold tiled floor. I cry out in pain because damn, a grown adult falling down is something else entirely. We don’t bounce back up like we did when we were kids.
God.
Ouch.
“Waverly!”
Suddenly, Dax is there, leaning down, his hands taking my body and lifting me up like I weigh nothing. When he gets me to my feet, he glances down. My bare breasts are quite literally squishing against his chest. His eyes meet mine, and oh lord, I can see the desire there. The epic desire. He wants me, and it’s written all over his face.
My body goes into panic mode, and I start panting.
I’m pressed against his body, half-naked, and if this isn’t the perfect fucking moment for him to take full advantage of me . . .
He doesn’t.
Part of me wishes he would so I could hate him more. So I could make myself seethe when I look at him. So that I wouldn’t feel these twisted feelings I’ve got swirling around in my chest right now. I need to hate him. I need him to remind me why he is such a disgusting human.
But I’m struggling to remember that.
He releases a hand and strokes a wayward piece of hair from my face, and my heart races.
No, Waverly.
No.
He’s a liar. It’s an act. This is what he does. He’s a monster.
He leans down. His lips brush against mine, and my body reacts in ways I wish it wouldn’t. What is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with me? This man is a horrible, cruel piece of shit, and I’m letting him kiss me. My body is aching to feel more. Everything inside me is pulling me towards him and not shoving me away.
I let him kiss me. I let him kiss me deep and slow.
Then I force myself to remember Merleigh, and Cova, and Bobbie and Amy. I force myself to think about Magnolia and Briella’s mom, and how their dead bodies were thrown on the club grounds, tossed into the dirt like they were nothing. All those acts were controlled and led by Dax. He’s a monster that has his hand in some disgusting and cruel shit.
These feelings I’m experiencing, getting swept away in the moment—that’s because of the drugs.
I’m falling for his act.
Which is exactly how he has gotten every other girl before me to do what he wants, to get them to trust him and then he sells them to a monster and watches as their hearts break and their worlds are turned upside down.
I pull back, my stomach turns with a sickness I can’t quite understand.
It’s from the drugs. It’s also my actions.
I’m disgusted in myself for considering, even for one second, that this man is anything but evil.
“I really need to shower,” I say, covering my breasts. “I’m not feeling well at all.”
“Do you need me to help you any further?” he asks, his voice low and husky.<
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“No, thanks.”
He studies me for a second longer, and then turns and walks out of the bathroom. When he’s gone, I let the tears burst forth and run down my cheeks as I get myself into the shower.
Then I stand there and I cry. I cry and cry because goddammit . . . I’m losing my strength.
I’m losing it, and I need to get it back.
If I don’t, I’ll let everybody down.
7
WAVERLY
I make it back to my room safely after my shower, which is saying something, because god knows I was worried about running into Dax again. My head seems to be spinning even more now, like I’m drunk and could pass out, yet I don’t. I hate this feeling and I want it to go away. I need it to go away. I lock the door and stumble my way to the big, soft bed I have been thinking about all day.
I reach it and pull my phone out from under my pillow, where I keep it stashed. Not that anyone can get into it, because it’s locked, but I don’t want anyone snooping. I pull it out and unlock it, staring at the screen. My vision is blurring slightly, mostly from my tears, so I can’t read the messages. There are some from Alarick, heaps from Briella, and then one there, from the one person I never thought would check in.
Mykel.
M – Hope you’re okay.
Tears flow further and I find myself hitting the call button without thought. I press the phone to my ear and a few rings later, a sleepy, sexy-as-hell male voice answers.
Goddammit.
Why is Mykel so fucking perfect even when he’s asleep?
And why does he hate me so much?
I just want to know.
I need him to not hate me.
I don’t deserve it.
“Waverly?” he murmurs, and I imagine how waking up next to him and hearing that voice would feel . . . goddammit, I’d attack him the moment he opened his mouth and demand he fuck me until I got it out of my system.
Sweet Jesus, what the hell is happening to my brain?
“You’re right about me,” I sob softly. “I’m not strong enough for this. I’m just weak and pathetic, and I’m going to let the entire club down.”
“What’s goin’ on? What happened?”
“Why do you hate me so much?” I cry a little harder this time. “What is it about me that you can’t stand? I’ve never done anything to you, Mykel, and you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you,” he murmurs. “Waverly, you’re drunk, and god knows what else. Where are you?”
“Dax kissed me again,” I sob. “I let him. That’s how weak I am. I’m not cut out for this. You were right all along.”
He goes silent for a minute, and then growls, “Where. Are. You?”
“At the cabin,” I sniffle.
“Can you get out?”
“Huh?”
“Can you get out undetected?”
I glance at my window and know damn well I can. “Yes.”
“Meet me down at the jetty. Ten minutes. You get there without dyin’?”
“Yes.”
He hangs up and my heart races. That certainly wasn’t what I was expecting him to say.
I get up and walk out of the room, still stumbling a little too much for my liking. I wonder if I’ll be able to get to the jetty. God knows I’m going to make a good effort to.
I find Dax sitting in the living area, and I walk over to him. “I need to get some rest. I don’t feel well.”
He looks up at me, his eyes slowly dragging over my tiny pajamas and slippers. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Yes, I just need sleep. Thank you for helping me out.”
He smiles up at me, his eyes warm. He most certainly feels something for me. That’s terrifying. “Goodnight, Waverly.”
“Goodnight, Dax.”
I turn and walk back to my room, hoping that is enough, and he won’t try to check on me. He’s never tried to check on me before. I hope it’s the same now. Still, I unplug the lamp so he can’t flick it on, and then I stuff pillows beneath the sheets to sort of resemble a person. With that, I flick off the light and carefully slide my window up.
It takes me a few minutes to get out quietly, but somehow, I do.
I have to sneak away from the cabin using nothing but my phone light. I finally reach the main path and glance to my left, where the big jetty is lit up. I walk towards it, shivering because it’s a whole lot colder out here than I thought it would be. I can’t go back to get a coat now, though.
I reach the jetty and see Mykel standing at the end of it, looking out over the water. My heart does a funny twist, and I put it down to the drugs in my system because there’s no way I care about this man . . . right?
My mind is playing tricks on me.
Just like it did with Dax.
When I reach the end of the jetty, Mykel turns and he glances down at my tiny cotton shorts and tank top.
“What the fuck are you wearin’, Waverly?”
“This is what I sleep in,” I croak.
He reaches out and touches my hair. “Your hair is dripping wet. You’ll get sick.”
He shrugs off the leather jacket he’s wearing and reaches around, putting it over my shoulders. It swims on me, but my god, it smells amazing. Like leather and man and all the good things in the world. My body is immediately warmer. I glance out at the lake, the moon shining over the water. I feel a touch better after walking down here. Maybe it’s the fresh air?
“Here,” Mykel says, handing me a bottle of water. “Drink it. Trust me.”
“Thanks,” I murmur, taking the water bottle and unscrewing the top before taking a long drink.
Gosh, I didn’t realize how much I needed that.
“What happened with you and Dax tonight?” he asks me, his voice gravelly.
“I don’t . . . I don’t know,” I say, sitting on the edge of the jetty so my feet hang over the edge. He does the same, though he doesn’t sit too close to me.
God, that bothers me.
Do I only care about what he thinks because I have feelings for him? Or do I think I have feelings for him because he makes out like he doesn’t like me and it’s frustrating?
Or am I just imagining the whole damned thing?
“You kissed him.”
“He kissed me,” I say, a little defensive.
“You let him.”
“Yes, I let him. For a second, for a stupid second of my life. What do you care, Mykel? We both know you can’t stand me.”
“I care because it’s my fuckin’ club that could go down for this.”
I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. Fuck him. He only brought me out here to remind me that he doesn’t give a fuck about me, and he only cares about the club, and that’s it. God.
I shrug off his jacket and stand, tossing it down at him. “You know what, Mykel? Fuck you. I’ve never done a thing wrong to you, and you still seem to have this problem with me. You only came out here to question me so you can run back and protect your fucking club. You couldn’t give a damn what I’m actually feeling right now.”
I turn and storm down the end of the jetty. Every step is agony.
“Stop!” Mykel orders, following after me.
“Go eat a giant dick!” I yell, throwing my middle finger up over my shoulder.
“Fuck it, Waverly. I said stop.” His hand curls around my arm and he spins me so fast I lose my footing. One moment, one slow-ass moment, I’m flying towards him, and then I’m bouncing off his body, tripping and I don’t know fucking how, but he loses his grip on my arm and I go straight over the side of the jetty. For a minute, it feels like it’s happening in slow motion.
Then, I hit the water.
The icy-cold water.
The water that feels like it penetrates my very bones.
What . . . what’s happening to me? The lights are getting further away. I’m falling deeper. Like I know I have to move, to get to surface, but I can’t seem to get my arms and legs to agree. Panic grips my chest, and I inh
ale a huge gulp of water. Oh, god. I’m going to die.
Finally my body starts working and I thrash around, choking on water, which is the worst possible thing I could do.
Huge arms circle me and before I know it, I’m launched to the surface and dragged out of the water. I spend the entire time coughing and panting, trying to get the water from my lungs.
When we reach the sand, Mykel lays me down and then swiftly rolls me to my side where he slams his hand on my back, his fingers curled around my chin as if supporting my mouth so it won’t close.
“Cough it up,” he orders, hitting my back over and over.
I do. I cough and cough and water spews out until there’s nothing left and I’m simply gasping for air. Only then does Mykel help me into a sitting position.
“I’m sorry,” he tells me, his voice low and panicked. I can hear how scared he was just from those two words.
“Why do you hate me so damned much, Mykel?” I whisper, shivering.
“I don’t fuckin’ hate you.”
“You could have freakin’ fooled me.”
“I don’t hate you, Waverly,” he growls, grabbing my face in his hands so I’m looking at him. I can just see him beneath the lights that bring the water to life. He’s staring down at me, soaking wet, shirtless.
He got in that water so damned quickly after me. One second, one more damned second and he might not have found me. I might have sunk too low. It’s not as if he could see where I went in. I could have very easily drowned then, and that would have been it.
“Why are you doing this to me?” I whisper, painfully. “Why do you make me question everything about who I am?”
He doesn’t say anything, and that hurts more than I could have imagined.
“Let me go back to my room,” I say, shoving his hands off my face. “Let me go back to the place where at least somebody pretends to care about me.”
“I fuckin’ care,” he barks.
“No, Mykel, you don’t. You don’t care. You called me out here so you could question me. You called me out here because you don’t believe I have it in me to do the job Alarick has given me.”
“You fuckin’ kissed him.”
“Yes, yes I did,” I scream. “And for a goddamned stupid moment, I enjoyed it. You want to know why? Because he made me feel like I was fucking worth something.”