by T. O. Smith
I soothed my hand over her hair. “I won’t.” I softly promised, feeling like such a jackass now.
What the fuck had I done?
Zyla, Tank, and River left the room, closing my bedroom door behind them quietly. I sat on the bed with Adelaide in my arms, leaning against my headboard with her cradled on my lap.
“Don’t let him hurt me,” Adelaide whispered as she clutched my cut in her hands, her head falling onto my shoulder.
Before I could ask who, she passed out in my arms, her soft snores letting me know that she was out cold.
As I looked down at her, I realized then that everything she had said to me when she had gotten there had been a lie.
Someone ruined her – that someone being Vin.
TWELVE
ADELAIDE
I looked up at Tristan as he stepped back into the clubhouse. He’d been out most of the day working in the garage, but he hadn’t cuffed me to the bed again, for which I was thankful.
I needed a way out. This shit with me and Tristan was toxic as fuck. I couldn’t do this – not again.
Where the fuck was Joey? Why wasn’t he here? Why hadn’t Tristan told Joey that I was here – that I was back home?
My eyes caught River’s from across the room. His lips tilted up the slightest bit in my direction, warming my heart, giving me strength that I hadn’t even known I’d been seeking.
I’d always thought that River was attractive, but the way he’d held me yesterday when I had completely fallen apart? My heart skipped a beat in my chest. He was warm and strong – safe – something I hadn’t been in a year.
Zyla handed one of the guys a beer, her lips tilting up a little as Jesup walked in behind Tristan. “Things changed a lot, didn’t they?” I asked her, noting the way Jesup shot her a wink that had her cheeks burning red.
She shrugged as she turned her attention to me. “You were gone for a while, Adelaide.” She reminded me.
I was only supposed to be gone for a couple of hours at most, but Rodney had found me.
I glanced at River again. His eyes were on me, and when they caught mine, they softened slightly, understanding and strength for me in their depths. My chest swelled. I hadn’t been looked at like that – well, ever.
River had come to my rescue that night. I didn’t want to call Tristan – didn’t want to call Joey.
I wanted someone who never looked at me with judgement – someone who looked at me without pity.
River jumped out of his truck, his boots making a soft thud on the dirty ground. He had made it to me in record time, just as I knew he would. When he’d given me his number in case of an emergency, he’d told me anytime day or night, call him.
I was so glad that offer still stood.
“Fuck, Darlin’.” He breathed as he knelt next to me, but there was no pity in his eyes. Instead, there was a burning rage in them. “It’s going to hurt like fuck for me to move you, but I need to get you to the hospital.” He told me.
“Okay,” I whispered.
He eased his arms under me and easily lifted me against his chest, his arms flexing around me. He wasn’t wearing his cut, and he had a beanie on his head, mostly concealing his identity from anyone that might see him.
I whined in pain, my breaths shallowing out. He brushed his lips to my bloody forehead. “Easy, Darlin’.” He soothed. “I’ve got you. You’re not alone; I’m here.”
Tears slid down my cheeks. “I feel like I’m dying.” I choked out as he set me in the passenger seat of his truck.
He gripped my face in his rough, calloused hands, locking those beautiful, blue eyes on mine. “Live for me, Adelaide.” He told me. I swallowed thickly at the raw emotion in his eyes. “Can you do that? Can you live for me?”
I nodded. He brushed his thumbs over my cheekbones. “No matter what hell you endure, Darlin’, live for me, yeah?” He brushed his lips over mine. I sobbed, everything hurting so much, but he was doing his best to soothe me. “Just live.”
Troy and Kyle stepped up to the bar, drawing me out of my memories – that sweet, bittersweet memory where River gave me a taste of what it was like to truly be cared about.
Live for me.
I’d fucking lived – not a goddamn thing else, but I fucking lived. I kept my promise to him.
“You here to stick around this time, Adelaide, or are you just going to leave and fuck everyone up again?” Troy demanded to know as Zyla slid him a beer.
I clenched my jaw. He didn’t know shit. “Watch yourself.” I snarled at him.
“She’s not going any fucking where.” Tristan snapped. I fisted my hands but forced them to relax. I just needed a plan to make Tristan fucking get rid of me for good. I needed to destroy him. I couldn’t keep going in this endless cycle. Vin was dead. The threat hanging over my head was gone.
I just wanted out – away – from this endless, heartbreaking cycle.
I got up from the stool and sighed. “I need my own clothes,” I informed Tristan.
He smirked. “I like you in mine.” He informed me.
I huffed in aggravation, not enjoying his playfulness. “I still need my own.” I retorted, not playing his game.
He blew out a breath. “Give me fifteen minutes to grab a shower, and then, we can go shopping.”
“Shopping?” I asked incredulously. “I just need you to take me to my place to get my things,” I told him. I didn’t want him spending a dime on anything. I had clothes at the apartment Vin had housed me in. Since I was now gone and Vin was dead, I doubted anyone was guarding it, waiting on me to come home.
Tristan shook his head at me. “I’m not taking you anywhere near Vin’s territory, Addy. It’s too fucking dangerous considering I just potentially started a war by shooting him yesterday. So, we’re going shopping.” He told me.
“Whatever,” I grumbled, not in the mood to argue with him further. I was still tired, my body still begging for rest.
“In the meantime, ask Zyla if she’s got something you can wear.” He told me. “You two should be about the same size.”
I only closed my eyes as I turned away from him.
I needed out – needed freedom.
I felt eyes burning into the side of my head, and when I turned, my eyes locked with River’s again.
■ ■ ■
As it turned out, Zyla and I were the exact same size since I had lost so much weight in the year that I had been gone. I hadn’t been properly fed – only allowed to eat when Vin allowed me to. He’d done everything in his power to tear me down, to make me weak.
And he had accomplished it. Vin had ruined me.
I opened the door to Tristan’s room to find him buckling his belt, his shirt tossed on the bed. I swallowed hard, my grip tightening on the door handle as my eyes trailed over him. I may not want to be in a relationship with Tristan, but I couldn’t deny that he still turned me on. He was well built, his muscles rippling with every move he made.
“You continue to fuck me with those pretty eyes, Addy baby, and we won’t be going shopping for a few more hours.” Tristan huskily warned me.
My eyes snapped up to his, and I subconsciously licked my lips. I wanted this, at least. I wanted a distraction – something familiar.
And I was familiar with having sex.
With a muttered curse, Tristan walked over to me, his hand sliding into my hair as he tilted my head back, his lips sliding against my own.
I moaned softly, my body curving into his as he closed the bedroom door, pushing me against it as he easily lifted me against it, his lips attacking mine. I wrapped my legs around his hips, my hands clutching at his shoulders as his tongue slid against mine, making my body shudder against his.
This – this was what I needed for at least a little while. There was nothing to sex. It didn’t require much thought.
He grabbed the bottom of the shirt I was wearing and tugged it over my head, tossing it to the floor. I whimpered as he ran his rough, calloused hands over my smooth s
kin.
He was distracting, but not distracting enough. My mind kept flickering to other shit, burying me further in my internal torment.
In no time, my clothes were on the floor, and Tristan had me on my back on his bed. His hands ran over my body, and he kept teasing me by going so close to where I wanted his fingers the most and then retreating.
I released a frustrated sigh, and finally, he moved over me, his eyes meeting mine. He slowly slid into me, and I cried out his name, arching my back off of the bed as my walls clutched at him, my body desperate for a release – a release that was all my own – of all my own control.
With a gentleness that Tristan had never really possessed when we were younger, he made love to me, bringing me over the edge over and over again, until exhaustion was weighing me down like a brick.
And I cried.
■ ■ ■
Tristan was sitting at his desk when I woke up, a pair of sweatpants riding low on his hips, his muscular upper body bare. He had the club books spread out in front of him, obviously working on budgeting and paying bills that needed to be paid.
I stretched out my body, feeling that familiar soreness of being used, but at least this time, I had wanted it. My movement drew Tristan’s eyes over to me. He smiled softly. I felt my throat close up with tears. Tristan’s smile no longer comforted me or made my heart swell like it used to. Now, it just made me feel trapped. “Sleep well?” He asked gently.
I nodded. “Extremely well,” I told him, meaning it. I hadn’t had any kind of decent sleep for a little over a year.
Tristan stood up and moved over to me, sitting beside me where I was lying. He brushed his fingertips over my cheek. My eyes slid closed as I reveled in his touch, wishing it still comforted me like it used to. Tears burned at the backs of my eyes, but I forced them not to fall.
I would not cry for something lost.
“I have to leave for a couple of days.” He informed me. I opened my eyes to look at him again. “I’m leaving River here with you.” He informed me.
My heart picked up pace in my chest. River – the man that I was pretty sure I was gaining feelings for. The man who hadn’t judged me when he’d saved me.
His words rang in my head. Live for me.
“Where are you going?” I asked Tristan.
“Joey needs me at his club for a few days to deal with an inside problem.” Joey. Oh, God, I fucking missed him. “He knows you’re back, but he asked me not to bring you – not until he dealt with this problem.” I frowned, my mood dimming again. “He’ll come to see you when shit is taken care of on his end.”
I sat up, shaking my head as I held the sheet around my chest, hiding my body from Tristan, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “I’m capable of taking care of myself, Tristan. I want to come with you.” I told him.
Tristan shook his head. “Out of the question, Addy.” He told me, his voice stern.
I glared at him as I slid out of bed, beginning to slide my clothes back on. I didn’t even give a fuck that he was staring at me. I was angry – furious.
Hold me with you.
Well, Joey, I really fucking need you right now, and you’re not letting me hold you here with me.
“Try and stop me.” I snapped at Tristan as I tugged my jeans up my legs.
“That a challenge, Addy?” Tristan asked quietly, quiet anger in his voice.
I tilted my chin up at him, a defiant gesture that I knew Tristan both loved and hated. “I’m coming with you, Tristan,” I told him.
He snatched my shirt from my hand, tossing it onto the bed. I swallowed hard as he took a step closer to me. Fear spiked in my veins, but I hid it from him. “I’ll be damned, Addy.” He snarled softly.
“And I’ll be damned if I’m going to be kept a fucking prisoner in this mother fucking clubhouse.” I snapped back at him. I’d been a prisoner long enough. I would not be one now.
“For the love of all that is holy, Addy, why the fuck is it always so fucking hard for you to just listen to me?!” He shouted.
I clenched my jaw and shook my head, backing down. “Fine.” I snarled, giving in. That’s what he wanted, right? For me to be a good old lady and shut my fucking mouth?
He sighed. “Addy -” He started, but I shook my head, hating him at that moment.
Trapped. I was always fucking trapped.
“I said fine, Tristan!” I shouted at him, snatching the shirt off of the bed and pulling it over my head.
I stormed out of his room, slamming his room door shut behind me with a resounding slam that shook the walls and silenced all of the voices in the clubhouse.
■ ■ ■
“Adelaide, it’s getting dark.” River stated as he stepped out of the garage office from where he’d been sorting through some of the books. His long legs carried him over to where I was currently working on a junk bike, trying to keep my mind off of the shit that I was always buried in. “I think it’s time to call this quits until tomorrow, Darlin’.”
My heart rate picked up speed in my chest at the sound of that familiar term falling from his lips. I had noticed he never called any of the other women that name – almost as if he reserved it solely for me.
Stupidly, it made me feel special – special to him.
“Don’t want to be out here, River, then go on inside.” I snapped at him. I needed to work on this bike – to keep myself busy.
Or I was going to self-destruct.
He sighed, opening the fridge in the garage and grabbing a beer out. “I can’t leave you out here, Darlin’. You know that. Strict instructions from the president himself.” He said, though he sounded sour about following orders. River had always struck me as the kind of man that ran by his own book. It always shocked me that he was a member of a club and not its president.
I looked up at him. “You ever thought about telling your president to shove his fucking commands up his ass?” I questioned seriously.
River barked out a laugh, his blue eyes glinting with humor. “Numerous times, Darlin’, but that’s not something you do if you don’t want a damn good ass beating to remind you of your place.” He reminded me.
“You ever get sick of playing babysitter?” I asked him.
He shrugged. “Zyla got on my nerves a lot,” he admitted, “but you’re a breath of fresh air, Darlin’.”
My breath hitched in my throat at his words. I sat back on my heels and let my eyes run over the man in front of me. River wasn’t really a looker. He was rugged – not as handsome as Joey or Tristan, but there was something about him that drew me in – made me crave him.
I couldn’t deny that I was attracted to River – that I wanted to be his in some kind of way. It was fucked up. I loved Joey; I loved Tristan. Yet, here I was, falling for yet another man.
I was a fucking mess.
I knew River had to be from somewhere in the south because of his southern accent, and he wore flannels better than any other man here, Tristan included. Tattoos swirled over his skin, disappearing under the sleeves of his flannel, appearing back on his neck. He was broad-shouldered, and his arms flexed with each movement he made.
Why the fuck hadn’t I made a move on him before?
Because right now, I wanted him – badly. I wanted him to claim me as his, but I knew that would be asking too much from him. I’d never seen River show any real interest in a woman.
But I would have him in any way that I could.
“River, you got an old lady?” I asked him as I grabbed a wrench from the floor, yanking my eyes from him.
“Nah. Tried that once. She divorced me six months after we got married.” He informed me, but he didn’t seem too bothered by that fact.
“That’s got to suck,” I commented as I began to continue taking the bike apart.
I saw him shrug from the corner of my eye. “It was five years ago, Darlin’. I’m over it.”
I stood up, deciding to take a chance. Fuck it. The worst that River could do was deny me. But I wanted som
eone to distract me from the shit my life had become – someone that wasn’t Tristan.
That someone being River. If I could have this with him, I would take it. He’d shown me kindness – shown me what it was liked to truly be cared about.
Not in fucked up way Joey did.
Not in the tainted way that Tristan did.
