by Bella Jewel
Wrong.
Isn’t he?
I drop my head into my hands. I’m so damned confused. It hurts. I hate it.
“Why do you always make me question everything I am?” I whisper to my hands.
“Because I love you. You know I do.”
Fuck.
God dammit.
“Danny,” I sob. “Please stop.”
“Can’t stop. I can’t watch you direct your life wrong because you’re scared.”
He’s wrong. This isn’t the life I want. It isn’t. Look what happened today—it just proves how dangerous and cruel this world is. I don’t want my kids to ever see him how I saw him earlier. I duck underneath the water, not wanting to hear any more. The cold hits my body hard and I close my eyes, staying under, letting it wash over me.
Arms wrap around my waist, hauling me out of the water.
Yellow eyes. God damn those yellow eyes.
“You know I’m right,” he says, his voice husky, so fucking beautiful.
“Danny,” I whisper, staring at his lips, watching the last few droplets of water spilling off them and running down his chin. “Please.”
“Tell me I’m wrong and mean it, and I’ll let you go. Until then, I’m not lettin’ you ruin so much fuckin’ love over fear.”
“I’m not scared,” I say, my voice breathy. “I’m not.”
“Baby, you are.”
“I’m not.”
“We belong together—you fuckin’ know it. I can give you it all, Skye. I can give you everything you want. I can take you around the world. I can give you babies. I can give you your white fuckin’ picket fence.”
I shake my head and tears run down my cheeks.
“Tell me one solid reason except the one I listed that you don’t want to be an old lady.”
I can’t.
I can’t give him a reason because he listed my exact rationale.
I’m scared. I don’t want that life because it fucking scares me.
“You can’t do it,” he says, pulling my body closer to his.
“Danny, please, stop doing this. Look what happened today. You killed someone. I can’t . . . I don’t want that.”
“That doesn’t change who I am.”
“If that was our child, coming in and seeing you like that, covered in blood . . . you think that’d just be okay?” I shout.
He flinches. “I’d never let my family get that close.”
“I got that close,” I scream. “I got that close, Danny, and it scared the hell out of me. I can’t live like that, in fear that you’ll never come home, that you’ll get hurt or that my family would get hurt.”
“I could protect you if you’d just fuckin’ let me, Skye. It isn’t always going to be like this; the club isn’t always going to be at war. Hell, this is the first one you’ve seen in your lifetime, and it’ll probably be the last.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I can promise I’ll take care of you.”
God, his voice. His words.
No.
“Danny, stop,” I plead.
“You want me to stop? Mean it,” he growls, pressing my body into his hard enough that I can feel his hard erection against my belly.
My body ignites. “I can’t,” I whimper. “I can’t say it and mean it—it doesn’t mean I don’t know that it’s right for me.”
“It isn’t right for you.”
“It is.”
“Baby, it isn’t.”
I shove at his chest. He doesn’t move.
Instead, he leans down and closes his mouth over mine. He kisses me like he always does, with a passion that lights my body on fire. My legs go around his hips and I kiss him back. With a love I refuse to admit means everything to me. With a soul that burns for him. With a desire that consumes me.
As always, we don’t bother to remove our underwear, or touch each other’s bodies, or take our time.
We want what we want.
He wants to be inside me, and I want him there.
He takes my panties and shoves them aside, then he jerks his boxers down and positions me over his cock before plunging in. It feels good, so fucking good. Better than anything I’ve ever had. Making love with Preston will never feel like this. It will never remind me why I fucking breathe. Danny makes up every single piece of my being and denying that will never change facts. He’s my everything.
“Danny,” I gasp, tilting my hips and allowing him to go deeper.
His fingers are on my hips and he’s uses them to drive my body up and down on his cock, filling me, stretching me, making it burn. I clutch his shoulders, my fingernails tearing into his skin, my body coming alive for him. He thrusts, I moan, and then we’re both coming at the same time, our bodies exploding like they have so many times before.
“Fuck,” he breathes, pressing his forehead to mine.
“We have to stop doing this,” I whisper, reaching up and running my thumb over his bottom lip.
“I don’t think I can ever stop.”
That’s what scares me.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
We sit lakeside until night falls.
Danny gets a blanket from my car and wraps it around my body, holding me close. We both know it’s over. That this is the end. It has to be. No matter how much I want to spend every single second in Danny’s arms like this, I have to face facts. I can’t do it. I can’t feel the way I felt today when I saw him covered in blood. I can’t raise a family in this life.
I just can’t be what he needs me to be.
“You’re going home, aren’t you?” he says into the darkness.
“Yeah.”
“I heard you might travel with that dick.”
“Yeah.” My heart twists with agony.
“I’m goin’ to lose you, aren’t I?”
Those words have a sob ripping from my throat and echoing in the still, quiet night. “Yeah.”
His grip tightens around me, but he doesn’t say any more for a long, long time. “I’d have done anything for you, Skye. You know that.”
“I know, Danny,” I whisper through my sobs.
“But this life really does fuckin’ scare you, doesn’t it?”
“It scares the hell out of me. I can’t risk it. I can’t take the chance that one day I’ll have kids and someone will hurt them to get back at the club. I love my family, I love the club, but it’s not the life I want. It’ll never be the life I want. Unless there is a promise of no violence, then I can just never turn back to it.”
“I wish I could promise you that, but I won’t make a promise that I can’t ensure just to keep you here.”
I press my cheek to his chest and breathe him in, knowing full well it’ll be my last time. “We were just never meant to be.”
He sighs. “Or maybe we were, but the universe decided to make fun of us.”
I laugh, but it’s weak. “Maybe.”
“I should go,” he says, and I don’t miss the slight hitch in his voice.
“Are we ever going to be able to be friends again?”
He stands, letting me loose, taking away his warmth. “I don’t think so, because I don’t think there’ll ever be a single second of my life that I don’t love you, Skye.”
Tears roll down my cheeks again, relentless, never-ending. “I wish it didn’t have to be like this. I’d do anything not to have to give you up,” I croak.
He leans down and takes my face, tilting my head back and brushing his lips across mine. “But that isn’t true, is it, baby?” he whispers, his voice low. “You wouldn’t do anything, because if you would, you’d let me prove myself to you. You’d believe in me enough to know I’d never let anything hurt you.”
“That’s unfair, Danny,” I whisper against his mouth. “You know it is.”
“Life’s unfair. That’s about all I know.” He presses his lips to my head and stands. “Goodbye, Skye.”
Tears flow so hard I can’t see him disappear into the darkness. Everything inside of me scr
eams to just stand up and follow him, to find a way to live with the life he’s chosen, but I can’t. I know it wouldn’t be fair on either of us to let him believe I can be something I just know I can’t.
“Goodbye, Danny,” I whisper into the darkness.
I don’t hear him go over my pain-induced sobs.
~*~*~*~
Being at home and knowing it’s really over between Danny and I is hell. No. It’s worse than hell. I don’t know what to do with myself; I don’t know how to feel. I just know a big part of me feels as if it’s been ripped out and tossed away. I truly don’t know if I’ll ever get it back. It’s been a week, and it isn’t getting any easier. I manage to move through work with a smile, but I know it doesn’t reach my eyes.
It’s as empty as I am.
“Hey girly!”
I’ve just finished an afternoon shift at work and see Mercedes and Diesel on the pathway, waving at me. I keep my fake smile and move closer to the girl who looks so much like Danny that it makes my heart hurt.
“Hey Merc!” I step up close and hug her. It feels nice to see family.
“How’re you doing?” she asks when I pull back, her pretty eyes scanning my face.
“I’m fine.” I look to Diesel. “Hey.”
He grins. “Hey, good to see you again.”
“You too. What’re you guys doing out here?”
“We wanted to see if you wanted to come to dinner with us?”
I raise my brows. “Any reason why?”
“Sure. I’m pregnant and we eloped.”
I blink.
Mercedes bursts out laughing and throws an arm around my shoulder. “I told you she’d fall for it. Every time, Skye, every time.”
“Don’t ever do that again.” I laugh. “That was mean!”
“I know, but it was totally worth it.” She grins at me. “So, dinner?”
“I can’t. I’m meeting Preston tonight.”
She frowns, then her eyes light up. “Surely you’ve got time for a coffee first?”
I do. And I really want to see her. “Sure.”
“I’ll leave you two to it,” Diesel says, pressing his lips to Mercedes’s temple. God, he’s hot. Lucky girl. “Call me when you’re done; we’ll grab dinner.”
“You sure?” Mercedes asks, looking up at him.
“Sure, baby. Go have fun.”
She smiles at him. He grins down at her. Swoon.
“Later, Skye,” he says, after he’s kissed her softly.
“Later Diesel.”
When he’s gone, Mercy turns to me and her face gets serious. “Right, now you can tell me what’s really going on.”
Dammit. She knows me too well.
~*~*~*~
“So you and Danny have finally ended it?” she asks, her face a little too sad for my liking.
I sip my coffee, trying to avoid having to go into greater detail.
“Skye . . .” she warns me. “I’ll call him.”
I flinch. “Yes, we’ve decided to end it. I can’t live that life, Merc. I just . . . can’t.”
“I know you want to travel, babes, I get that, but you always loved the club. You were always the one amongst it all. What changed?”
I look away.
“Skye . . .”
“Ava, you . . . everything . . .”
Her voice grows soft when she answers, “Honey, bad things happen. It sucks, but it’s life.”
“It’s not, Mercy,” I whisper, my eyes burning with unshed tears. “Those things aren’t normal and I don’t think I can live like that, worried about my children . . . worried if they’ll get hurt.”
“Did you ever get hurt?”
“No, but you did, and so did Ava.”
“I know that, but it doesn’t mean it’ll happen again.”
I meet her eyes. “It doesn’t mean it won’t, either. It’s not just that . . . I saw him the other day . . . covered in blood,” I trail off and look at my hands.
“What?”
“He killed someone, Mercy.”
Her eyes get big. “What?” she whispers again.
“The man who hurt you. He went in after him, killed him. Things got messy and out of control. I went into the clubhouse; he was covered in blood . . . it was all over him . . . I just . . . I can’t do it. I can’t imagine bringing a child into that world, letting our kid see him like that.”
“Oh honey,” she whispers, and her voice is as strained as mine now. “I get it, I do. I just hate seeing you like this. You two are meant for each other.”
“Not anymore,” I croak. “I need to move on.”
“Is that really what you want? Because you can have all the things in the world, travel to the finest places, but it’ll mean nothing if you’re not happy.”
I reach over and take her hand. “I’ll be happy. I will.”
I’m such a liar.
An emotional, desperate liar.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ONE MONTH LATER
I’m in Paris.
I never thought I’d say that but here I am, sitting at a restaurant with Preston, waiting for some work friends of his to show up for a night out on the town. I stare at the lights of the city and watch the people mill around. I’m travelling, like I always wanted. I’m in a different country, with different people, yet something inside me still feels so incredibly empty.
I’ve tried to push it down, but it’s like a festering wound, getting worse by the second.
I never told Preston about what happened with Danny and I that night, because I knew it’d never happen again. It wasn’t a mistake and it wasn’t even something I was sorry for; it was a goodbye that left a hole in my heart that I can’t explain. I haven’t spoken to Danny since, and each day it just gets worse. I know it takes time to heal, but it would seem time simply adds to the agony.
I came with Preston to Paris, but I wasn’t going to. When I got back, I told him I wanted to slow things down. I was honest and told him that I didn’t feel I was completely over Danny, and that it wouldn’t be fair on Preston to risk getting hurt. He insisted he understood and let me take things slowly, just taking me on dates for a month, going to the movies, as we got to know each other. But he still pleaded with me to come here with him.
It was Mercedes who told me I should go after that day in the coffee shop, when I told her how I was feeling. She loves her brother, but she also reminded me that the only way I’m going to move on is to allow myself to, and if I really truly want to get over Danny, I have to let him go. I think saying that hurt her nearly as much as it hurt me to hear it, but she’s my friend and she has my back. Always.
So I came.
We slept for the first two days because of jetlag, and today I spent my time wandering the streets and buying gifts for my family in between taking in this magnificent city. Preston had business so I got to see whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. Tonight he asked me to join him to meet up with some colleges, and I agreed. It’s time to meet new people. Create new stories.
I have been suffering some sickness since we arrived. Preston told me it’s the water and should ease in a few days. I hope so, because it’s made for an uncomfortable visit. The food is very different to my usual too, so that hasn’t helped. I’m feeling okay tonight; not one hundred percent, but well enough to put on a happy face and meet some new people.
“How’re you feeling?” Preston asks, throwing an arm around my shoulder.
I smile over at him. “Good. Looking forward to meeting your friends.”
He seems pleased with my answer. “They’ll love you, I’m sure.”
My heart flutters nervously, but I keep my smile. “I’m sure.”
“Preston!”
We turn to see a tall, handsome man in a suit coming forward with a lady by his side. They’re followed by another two couples, all smiling at us. Preston lets me go and shakes hands with the men and hugs the ladies before turning to me. I stand up, smiling even though I feel so out of place. They’re
all dressed far better than me. I look out of place in my short casual halter dress when they’re wearing elegant gowns and beautiful jewelry.
“This is my lovely girlfriend, Skye,” Preston says, putting his arm back around my shoulder. “Skye, this is Regan and John, Kate and Sam, and Kerry and Bill.”
I wave to the three couples, who greet me with smiles and handshakes, before taking my seat again. My stomach twists angrily as I do so, so I take a sip of water, trying to calm it down. I really don’t want to be sick in front of all these people. I wish whatever it was that was giving me grief would pass already so I could enjoy my trip.
“So Skye,” Regan says, flipping her long, perfect blond hair over her shoulder. She’s supermodel pretty, all blue eyes and slender body. “How are you liking Paris?”
“It’s lovely so far,” I praise. “I haven’t had much chance to discover a great deal of it yet, but what I’ve seen is spectacular. We’re planning on doing some touring tomorrow.”
“Oh, you’ll love it. Such a wonderful place. Preston here knows all the good spots.” She winks at him and gives a long, sultry smile, and I bristle.
Preston laughs. That pisses me off even more, but I squash it down.
“What do you do for a living, Skye?” John asks.
He’s the least terrifying in the group, with his kind brown eyes and easygoing smile. “I waitress at the moment, but I’m deciding what career path I want. I may do some study.”
I swear the ladies screw their noses in disgust.
“What about your family?” John smiles. “What do they do?”
“Her family own a chain of garages. Very lovely people,” Preston lies, and I shoot him a look.
He doesn’t want his precious friends to know I’m a biker brat. Something inside my chest explodes, and I have to take another sip of water to stop myself from screaming at him. How dare he try and avoid who I really am for the sake of looking good in front of his friends? He outright lied; he couldn’t have gotten further from the truth if he tried. He tries to take my hand but I pull it away, smiling to the group and refusing to make eye contact with him.
“That’s interesting,” Kate adds, and I move my eyes to her. Pretty, red hair, perfect . . . of course.
“We might not have a good deal of money, but I have a loving family and a great life. I have nothing to complain about,” I say through gritted teeth.
