In Search of Solace (Rebel Wayfarers MC)

by MariaLisa deMora

  Lifting her hands to her face, she covered her hot lids with flattened palms, pressing lightly as if to verify no tears remained to be squeezed out. She dropped one hand to rest in her lap, where Bane immediately captured it. Scrubbing across her forehead, she ran her fingers through her bangs and across the top of her head, wrapping her hand around the braid and bringing it over her shoulder. Playing with the curling end, she pulled in a final shuddering breath and released it with a whimper, leaning against Bane.

  “There you go.” Distracted by the way his fingers were playing with hers, stroking and wedging between by turns, she didn’t jolt when his other hand touched her face, wrapping around her jaw in a strong grip. He lifted, and she went with the motion, her neck stretching and bending. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

  Myrt’s eyelids fluttered. Every blink brought her another facet of his visage. Strong jaw. High cheekbones. Concerned eyes. Wrinkled brow. Full lips bowed down in a grimace. She blinked a final time and then let her lids rest at half-mast. Anything else was too much effort.

  He was close. Near enough she could hear how his breathing deepened, see his pupils dilate. So close if she’d stretched up another inch, his mouth would have been pressed against hers. Bane’s fingers tightened slightly, and she thought for one insane second he’d heard her thoughts and was acting on them, but his eyes flared underneath his furrowed brow, and he stilled.

  “I will always keep you safe. I told you earlier, and you said you believed me. Do you still?” She nodded as best she could, trapped by his fingers as she was. “Gonna need more than that, sweetheart.” Every time he called her the softly affectionate name, a little more of her walls crumbled. Not that I have much left to stand against him. If Bane indicated he wanted anything from her, she would turn and bend over, presenting for him to cover her. She’d give whatever he wanted to take if he’d only keep looking at her as he was. “Come on, sweetheart.” She imagined he could feel how her heart sped at the words, his palm cradling the column of her neck. “I need to know you believe me. I’ll keep you safe and do my damnedest to get your brother to safety. Both brothers. Hell, Marian, too, like I said earlier. Do you believe?”

  “I believe.” She realized she truly did. Rough around the edges he might be, but she knew he’d never lie to her. Would never intentionally hurt her. Would bend backwards to keep his word. “I do, Bane. I believe you.” Her muscles lost their rigidity, and she sagged against him, feeling comforted and safe in a way she couldn’t remember reaching before. Maybe back before Mom got sick and passed. Back before becoming an adult meant understanding how she was expected to put her family’s needs above her own. When she found the cost of her innocence equaled the price for a used tractor. She shoved her face into the crook of Bane’s neck and breathed deeply. Sweat, and a musky fragrance she’d come to associate with him. Another breath of the scent pulled deep into her lungs triggered an extra wave of relaxation, and she clutched at his shirt underneath his leather vest. “I believe,” she repeated softly, the bristly touch of his short beard against her cheek an anchor.

  “Sharon and I have a plan.” He scooted backwards on Vanna’s bed until he had wedged them against the headboard. Two thumps told her he’d toed his boots off, letting them fall to the floor. “We can leave first thing in the morning. The club has friends up in the area, and if needed, we can lean on them for anything, up to and including dealin’ with that asshole Sallabrook after you and me are well out of Kentucky on our way back here. Sharon’s offered us the van, and it’ll work great as we’re carrying the boys here. Lots of room for anything they want to bring with.”

  “Bring them here?” Her head swam with the rush of words he’d thrown her way. “I hadn’t thought about where we’d live.” A band tightened around her chest, fear causing her stomach to roll and sour. “I don’t even have a place to live.”

  “Hey, now, that ain’t true. Vanna and Truck have basically adopted you. Remember Mister Truck? He and Vanna Mom are amazing folks, and they’d never do or say anything they didn’t want to do. Them telling you this is your house means you can bring family here if needed.” Curled in his lap as she was, when he spread his legs, hers fell between them. That, and the way his arms continued to cradle her against his chest, made her feel surrounded by his calming presence. “So of course the boys will come here. Lots of room to spread out as they get acclimated to the world beyond where you grew up.”

  “They’ll need everything.” Just like I did. Like I do. “How can I bring them here when things feel so unsettled? Is that doin’ right by them?”

  “The only thing unsettled is your mind, Myrt.” She crinkled her nose, much preferring the sweetheart he’d been calling her. “And I don’t know how to help with that. I promise you if something happens and Truck or Vanna say you’ve got to find somewhere else to live, I’ll be right here beside you. We’ll figure it out together.”

  Maybe it was the aftermath of the emotional whirlwind she’d been through, but Myrt felt brave enough to question him. “But why, Bane? Why would you drop everything to help me?”

  His shoulders lifted, and he made a huffing sound that echoed around her ear. His arm gave her a squeeze, which had her turning her face into the crook of his neck again, and he answered her with a question. “Why not?”

  Chapter Eight

  Bane

  Last articles of clothing in his hands, he bumped the dresser drawer closed with one hip. He was unsurprised to turn and find Vanna standing in the doorway, offering her a brusque nod as he carried the shirts to the bag unzipped and spread wide on the bed.

  Clothing arranged and bag secured, he faced her once again. Vanna met his gaze with a steady stare that somehow managed to be neither judgmental nor confrontational.

  Might as well get this party started. “Ma’am.” She huffed and rolled her eyes, and he gave her a tiny thing, a melding of respect and appreciation for everything she’d done. Not only for Myrt, but for Blackie, and even Sharon and Gunny back in the day. “Vanna Mom.”

  “Bane’s a good handle for you.” She folded her arms across her chest, feet wide as she took a strong stance. “No idea how it was earned, and this isn’t me asking you a thing about the name. But I can imagine a dozen seasoned men muttering ‘of my life’ every time I hear it. Suits you well.”

  “You’re not far off from the meaning.” He grinned, letting a little honest amusement seep through. “Only the bane was everyone else. I was the perfect one. Blackie’s Riders were the bastages always fuckin’ things up. My own words stuck, if you can imagine such a thing.”

  Her laughter pealed through the house, spreading the comfort of home as it went, and Bane imagined Truck’s smile to hear it. Too soon, her smile faded.

  “I’d feel better if you waited for some backup to be confirmed.” Vanna took a step towards him, arms uncrossing so she could hold out a hand in caution. “She’s not feeling very well all the time.”

  “She’s pregnant.” Might as well get it all out in the open. From the way Vanna had danced around the topic, he knew he wasn’t telling tales on Myrtle out of turn, but he needed Vanna to know the depth of his knowledge. “The stress of not knowing would be worse than any confrontation we might have with the old man.”

  “She may not keep it.” The bland statement made his chest tighten. “Her body, her choice, and no judgment from me. I think she wants it, the baby, but she can’t find her way to grant herself permission.” Vanna offered him a wan smile that quickly fell away. “Yet.”

  “Maybe we get her into a good place with her brothers and she can see her way clear to do what’s right for her. Just this once, she’ll have whatever she needs. She’s had a shit-filled life so far. I wanna make that right.” Bane lifted a hand and covered his chest, the rapid vibrations of his heart pounding through his fingertips. “I’ll make sure she gets everything, Vanna Mom. That’s a promise.”

  “You’re giving her a wide-load promise. You gonna be able to keep up your end of this whe
n the roads narrow and get steep?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He’d had to bite back his initial reaction, which was to tell Vanna to mind her own and leave him and Myrt alone. For the respect his club held for her alone, he resisted, and tried instead to explain himself a little, even though it grated on him to be called to task like this. “She’s got somethin’ special about her. I’m not pledging love or anything like that, but she has my hands, heart, and body. Whatever she needs, I’ll get it for her.” Bane lifted the bag, shrugging the strap into place over his shoulder as he gave her just a little more respect. “For whatever it’s worth, you’ve got the same somethin’ special about you, too.”

  Vanna unsettled him by striding directly to him and placing her hands on his shoulders as she rose on her toes. Heat from the faintest brush of her lips touched his cheek. “You’re a good man, Will Crow.” Her fingers tightened as she pulled back, staring into his face and giving his shoulders a shake. “And if you hurt my girl, there is nowhere on God’s green earth you can hide.”

  He stood there struck dumb as she sashayed out the door. A moment later, her voice came up the stairs, asking Sharon what the kids would like for lunch. I bet Truck’s got his hands full with her. He settled the strap over his shoulder again and stepped into the hallway, then over a door, where he rapped gently with a knuckle. “Myrt, honey, you ready to go?” He pushed the door ajar a few inches, until she was framed in the opening with her brilliant smile curling her lips.

  He couldn’t help calling her sweet, affectionate names, and from the expression on her face every time he did, Myrtle didn’t mind it much, which gave him zero incentive to stop. This smile was one of hundreds he’d earned all week as he settled into the names she seemed to like the most. Darlin’ was better than okay, honey a real keeper, but sweetheart was the big guns when it came to reactions.

  “Almost, Bane.” She turned away to pick something up off the floor, and he stood there, puzzled, as he watched her fold a large green tarp. She attempted to stuff it into the duffel Vanna had loaned her, struggling to tuck the edges out of sight so she could zip the bag closed. “Just—” She huffed a strand of hair out of her face. “A couple more things.”

  “Sweetheart.” He dropped his bag in the hallway and walked to where she stood. “You don’t have to take everything you own. Hell, I’m leavin’ half my stuff here. Vanna won’t throw anything out, Myrt. It’s safe here.” Taking her hands in his, he tightened his grip until she stilled. “Let’s go back through what you’ve packed, and we’ll right-size things, yeah?”

  “It seems rude to expect her to store my…things.” Speaking in a tiny voice, Myrt dipped her chin until all he could see was the top of her head. Voice directed towards her feet, she uttered words so soft he had to listen closely, crowd nearer, in order to hear her. “Vanna’s already doing everything for me.”

  “And she’d do it twice over if it meant you were safe, happy, and healthy.” Bane didn’t meter his response, didn’t whisper, didn’t try to hide their conversation. He knew Myrt understood his intent when her head tilted, and she flashed an annoyed expression at him. “All of us. Vanna, Truck, Sharon, and me—we all want you to feel secure in being here, want you to know in your gut you can trust us. We get it, at least I do—trust isn’t something I can simply demand from you. I can’t tell you to trust me and have it happen. I gotta earn that. I hope you’ve seen from what you know of me so far that I’m doin’ everything in my fuckin’ power to earn it from you. I would never, ever hurt you, Myrtle.” He lifted her hands and placed them against his chest, the feeling of her palms relaxing and pressing flat like a victory. “I know I’ve got a lot of work to do, but it’s good work. Worthy work. Gettin’ you to believe in me.” He smiled down at her, pleased to see her lips quirk to one side as she fought against returning the expression. “One thing you should know about me, Myrt. I’m a hard worker when the incentive is right.”

  “What’s your incentive here?” The way her lips rolled together, pressed tightly against her teeth, he knew the question hadn’t been asked on purpose.

  Love those little slips, give me insight into what she’s really thinking. He’d found just because she didn’t have formal school learning didn’t mean Myrtle was unintelligent. From an early age she’d read every book her mother offered her, devouring college textbooks alongside mythical stories, all of that backed up by the Bible reading her father had preferred. Her accent might have been backwoods Kentucky, but her vocabulary was anything but. Everything about her pulled him in deeper, and he’d quit pretending to fight it.

  Might as well lay all my cards on the table, see what she makes of it. “My incentive—my motive, is you.” He tensed, ready to hold her hands in place if she tried to escape, but she surprised him by leaning in, pressing harder as her head tilted up and then back, exposing her beautiful face for his viewing pleasure. “All the reason I need, right here.”

  “Half the time when you’re talkin’, I don’t understand what you mean, Bane.”

  That bit of truth wasn’t a slip. He could tell from her expression she genuinely wanted to understand.

  Seems a little truth-tellin’ didn’t scare her off at all. Time to go for broke, man. “I mean what I say, always, Myrt. I like you. You’re funny when you let yourself react without overthinking, and your smiles are enough to light up a room. You’re sweet, appreciative of other people’s efforts on your behalf, don’t take anything for granted, and you’re kind.” He released his grip on one of her hands, grazing a bent knuckle across the apple of her cheek. Spreading his fingers, he covered the edge of her jaw, cradling her face in his hand, and she leaned into the touch. “Kids and dogs love you, which tells me deep in your heart you’re good as gold. You’re fiercely protective of those you love and don’t shy away from hard conversations. Sure, I’m holdin’ out for a miracle you might one day return some of this back to me, but regardless of if you ever come around on that front, in my soul I know you’re a good person, and that’s all the reason I need to help you.” Bending down, he brushed his lips across her forehead and pulled back. Her eyes were closed, and her face had relaxed into the most beatific expression he’d ever seen. “So if I say something that’s hard to understand, ask me, and I’ll tell you. I stand by my words.”

  “I…I believe you.”

  With even a tiny hesitation in there, he wasn’t buying it. “Not sure I can take your words at face value when you stumble over the statement, Myrt.” Bane released her hand, dropping his hold from her face as he backed away a step. Fuckin’ stings.

  “No.” She crowded closer to him, fingers tangling in his shirt, gripping tightly. “I believe you. What I was going to say, and didn’t, was I didn’t know if I was worth all that.” She shook her head. “My thoughts are all over the place, Bane.” His name was accompanied by a solid thud against his chest with her fists. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  Bane slipped his arms around her, one low at her waist, the other high across her shoulders, and he pulled her into his hold as naturally as breathing. She just fuckin’ fits me. “Oh, sweetheart. You didn’t hurt…” I don’t want to lie to her, ever. “Okay, it hurt a little, but I’ll get over it. I’m already over it, hearing the why behind the what you said. I get it, honey. My brain goes a thousand miles an hour all the time, too. It’s hard for my mouth to keep up, and then there’re the times when my brain-mouth filter doesn’t engage and should have, so I don’t doubt there will be many times in the future I’ll have to ask your forgiveness for something I said.” She angled her head back to better look into his face, which had the added benefit of arching her pelvis towards his body. His dick woke and took notice of the soft flesh pressed against him, fattening with a delicious tingle low in his groin. “Let’s get this finished so you and me can get on the road.” Her face held an expression of confusion as he backed away, fingers trailing down his arm in an effort to stay connected. “Unpack everything you won’t need, and I’ll get it put away.” He pul
led the tarp out first, went to the closet, and dropped the folded plastic on the top shelf. “Just like that.”

  Turning back, he found her staring at him, not having moved an inch away from where he’d left her. Instead of asking, he tilted his head to the side and arched an eyebrow, waiting.

  “I don’t understand you.” Myrt moved towards her bag, thighs pressed against the edge of the mattress as she sorted through the contents. “But I know you’re being patient with me, Bane. Thank you.”

  “Don’t have to thank me for common courtesies.” He picked up the small pile of things she’d laid on the bed beside the bag, assuming they were the discard pile for their trip. She made an aborted grab for them, but he’d already turned towards the dresser. Smiling at her dismayed expression, he told her, “I got this, Myrt.” Once at the dresser, he found out what had her cheeks staining such a pretty shade of pink. Working carefully, he placed the folded underwear into a top drawer, shirts in the next one down, and the shorts and pants from the pile in the one under that. He idly noted there was plenty of room for another whole person’s clothes in the unused drawers. “That it, honey?” Glancing over his shoulder, he took in her still-puzzled expression. “Anything else in the bag you won’t need?”

  She shook her head, and he slid the bag over in front of himself, zipped it closed, and carried it to the doorway so he could scoop up his own bag. With both straps over his shoulder, he pressed one hand against his stomach, bowing slightly as he swept his other hand wide. “Milady, your humble servant.”

  Fingers twisting in the hem of her shirt, she stared at him. A brisk nod seemed to end her internal conflict, and she sidestepped into the hallway, not touching or brushing up against him. The movement was so calculated, it couldn’t be on accident, and he chided himself for his overt display of affection a moment ago.