by Laura Kaye
Old, long-ingrained thoughts tried to sneak in around the anger. Thoughts that made excuses and put blame on herself and tore herself down. Thoughts she’d learned the past five years, from Grant. Thoughts she’d made a very bad habit of taking to heart and making her own.
How had that happened? Why had she let it? How long had it been going on?
Who the hell had she become?
“Whatever you need, Al. Just name it,” Maverick said, his big hands giving her so much comfort.
She forced a deep breath. And another. Trying to rein herself in. She scrubbed at her face and leaned her forehead against his broad chest. She breathed him in, her heart and her body recognizing his scent, all leather and soap and Maverick. And she wondered if just a few of her tears weren’t for the relationship she’d walked away from five years before out of grief over losing Tyler to the thing Maverick loved most, fear of getting hurt even worse if she lost Mav, too, and the crushing weight of responsibility for her mother.
Right there in that moment, Maverick was her rock. Dependable, reliable, and certain—all things she’d doubted about him five years before. All things she’d believed Grant absolutely guaranteed.
The weight of all her mistakes was almost too much to bear.
She looked up into Maverick’s dark blue eyes, so filled with concern for her, and whispered a confession. “I’ve been so wrong about so much for so long.”
He cupped her cheek in his hand and swiped at her tears with his thumb. His calluses were rough against her skin, but it was the most amazing thing she’d felt in a long, long time. She couldn’t resist leaning in to his touch. “No fucking way this was your fault. Tell me what happened.”
“Grant accused me of cheating on him with you,” she said.
Rage flashed through his blue eyes, but his hands remained gentle, soothing, caring. It made her heart ache and soar at the same time. “Go on,” he whispered, his voice raw.
“One of the sheriffs saw us on your bike and told Grant. Nothing I said mattered. No, it was worse than that. He twisted everything I said. Threw my words back in my face.” Anger rose up inside her again and she shook her head as Grant’s voice echoed inside her mind. You have nothing without me. You are nothing without me.
“No doubt it was Curt Davis. He’s so far up Slater’s ass it’s a surprise you don’t hear Davis’s voice when Slater talks.” He chuffed out a humorless laugh. “All this over a fucking bike ride,” Maverick said under his breath. “Damnit, I’m sorry. That’s my fault.”
Alexa braced her hands on his chest, his warmth seeping inside her where she was so cold, so lonely, so alone. “No, Maverick,” she said, the anger coming through in her voice. “It’s neither of our faults. That’s the thing. There were so many things I couldn’t do, or shouldn’t do, or he would get mad. So much that was better left unsaid because it would cause a fight. I knew he wouldn’t like knowing I’d ridden with you, but we didn’t do anything wrong. You were just helping me. And I needed you—”
She cut herself off, the words taking her by surprise. How long had it been since she’d last let herself think that thought? That she’d needed Maverick Rylan.
He gave a tight nod, his eyes on fire with emotions she didn’t dare to guess at.
“And then he threw me out.” How humiliating was that to say out loud? Just voicing it made her stomach toss.
Maverick’s eyes narrowed. “He kicked you out of the house?”
“He literally grabbed me and threw me out the front door,” she whispered, barely able to give voice to such an ugly truth. “To punish me.”
“Sonofabitch,” he bit out, his gaze searching hers. “I’m going to kill this motherfucker. I swear to God.”
“No. Promise me. You will not go after him. You’re right. He has friends in lots of places around town, including the sheriff’s and mayor’s offices. You lay one finger on him and he’ll find a way to get you arrested. Promise me.” She held his stare, all the while realizing she never would’ve talked this way to Grant. Well, not before tonight.
Maverick looked like he wanted to murder someone. Well, obviously, he did. “He threw you out of your own house, Alexa. In a goddamned storm. He hurt you.”
“I know. But I refuse to let him hurt you. Promise me.” She grasped Maverick by the edge of his cut and shook him. “Promise.”
His eyes were blue fire. And, God, even rankly pissed off, he was so freaking hot. And it wasn’t just his looks, though those were damn fine. It was his sense of honor. His protectiveness toward her. His basic decency. When had she stopped valuing that? “Fine. I promise. For now.”
“Maverick—”
“Tell me what happened the day you came to the clubhouse.” He arched a brow at her.
“He didn’t hit me,” she rushed to say.
The brow went up a little higher. “Hanging on by a very short thread here, Al.”
“We got in a fight over a mess I made. He kicked a box at me and I jerked back out of the way and tripped. I fell and hit my head on a table. He told me it was my own fault and stormed out. I . . . I freaked out.” The words spilled from her in a rush.
“Please tell me you realize that none of that is normal. None of that is the way normal people react to a mess or seeing someone with an ex or having a fight. Right? You get that?” The concern was back in his expression again. It only took a little of the edge off the anger, not that his anger bothered her. And it certainly didn’t scare her. Because Maverick Rylan would never intentionally hurt her. It wasn’t even a question.
“I know,” she said on a sigh. Her shoulders fell and she ducked her chin. Unthinkingly, she rubbed her fingers over the indent where her ring used to be. “I do know. I knew as it was happening, although he always made things feel like they were my fault. Or I always found a way to rationalize what’d happened. I was the one who tripped on the box. I was the one who made the mess in the hall. I was the one who went on a bike ride with another man and didn’t tell my fiancé.” She shook her head. “I don’t know when I started thinking that way. I was thinking about it on the ride here and I can’t pinpoint exactly how it happened. Things were good between Grant and me at first. And then . . . it was like he changed, but only in bits and pieces that I learned to live with one at a time, until he’d become someone else and I’d accepted it all.” She shook her head, so disappointed in herself. “What happened to me?”
Maverick caught her chin in his fingers and made her look up at him. “Abusers know they have to work up to the bad behavior. Suck you in. Make you feel special. Get you acclimated to the abuse a little at a time. Wear you down more and more until you not only can’t fight back, you don’t fight back,” he said, voice gritty and raw. “I saw that shit with my mother, but I didn’t recognize what it was. My father did that shit with me, too. Abuse is insidious, Alexa. That’s why it’s so effective at tearing you down and stripping you of your defenses, your support system, your independence.”
Alexa nodded, surprised to hear Maverick talk about what had happened to Bunny. He’d never said much about it even when they’d been close. She often wondered if he’d said more to Tyler. But she knew it ate at him and always had. “Well, no more. I’m done. I left my ring and walked away, and it was the first smart thing I’ve done in so damn long even though I have no idea what it means for my life. But I can’t be with someone who treats me that way. And I certainly can’t marry him. I won’t.” She clutched her stomach as a wave of anxiety washed through her, the sensation almost as if she’d nearly been in a terrible accident. She fell back against the front door. “Oh, God, I can’t believe I came so close to marrying him.”
Maverick stepped in close. “He doesn’t know that part, though, right?”
“Not unless he opened the door and saw I wasn’t there, saw the ring.” She blew out a breath. “But I don’t care. I’m done.”
“He’s not going to let you go that easily,” Maverick said, peering down at her.
Her stom
ach flipped again as she nodded. Maybe. Probably. This was likely just the beginning of some hard days. But it was also the beginning of something new—a new life. What exactly that would be, who exactly she would be, she didn’t know. “What am I going to do? My entire life is wrapped up in him. My job. Where I live. My car. Where Mom lives. Everything. Oh, God. This is going to be a nightmare, isn’t it?”
Maverick grasped her hands. “One thing at a time. You’re out. You can stay here as long as you need to. I have plenty of room. I’ll help you through it. That’ll give you time to figure out what it is you want. There’s no rush.”
“Okay,” she said. “Okay. God, thank you.” A shiver raced over her skin.
“You don’t have to thank me. I’m so relieved for you that I might fall the fuck over,” he said, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles. She almost managed a little smile. “Your hands are like ice, Al. I shouldn’t have made you stand here all this time when you’re soaking wet.”
Alexa shook her head. “It felt good to get it out, Maverick.”
“Glad to hear it. Would a hot shower make you feel better? I can find you a T-shirt and a pair of boxers to change into while your clothes dry.”
All the TLC and understanding he was giving her reached right inside her chest. When was the last time someone had taken care of her this way?
The last time you were with Maverick. The truth of that thought made her breath catch. “Yeah. I’d like that,” she managed.
He gave a tight nod and stepped back, and she missed his heat immediately. “Uh, good. That’s good. You remember your way around?”
“Of course,” she said. How much time had she spent here over the years? Even before they dated? At one point, Maverick’s place had practically been a second home. Though, as she’d finally calmed down enough to take note of her surroundings, all the changes he’d alluded to the other day jumped out. The hardwoods were refinished, new drywall replaced the old, dark paneling, and the fireplace had been redone with gorgeous stonework. The finishes, fixtures, and décor were a fantastic mix of modern and lakeside cottage.
“You okay?” he asked, watching her.
She pushed off the door. “I don’t know yet,” she said, coming to him. “But what I do know is how grateful I am to you. For everything. For being there when I told you not to. For listening. For just . . . being you.”
“Always.” He crossed his big arms and ducked his chin, like something about the exchange made him uncomfortable.
“I mean it,” she said, and then she pressed onto tiptoes and kissed his cheek, his stubble tickling her lips. “You saved me tonight.”
“No,” he said, eyes flashing, one brow arched. “You saved yourself, Al. I was just your getaway driver.”
Staring into one another’s eyes, the tender moment stretched out, morphed, suddenly flashed hot. Being so close to him set her body on fire, and finally she could actually consider acting on it. Need roared through her, a living, breathing thing. “Maverick,” she whispered.
“Fuck, Alexa, I think you better go take that shower,” he said, his jaw ticking. “Now.”
She released a shaky breath and nodded. He was right. Of course, he was.
So, showering. She could handle that.
Afterward, God only knew what she was going to do.
CHAPTER 13
Alexa woke up in the middle of the night and immediately knew where she was—and where she wasn’t. She was in Maverick’s guest room, not in her own bed at home. Though, she supposed, she actually didn’t have a home right now, did she?
Annnd that thought pretty much ensured she wasn’t going back to sleep.
Part of her was surprised she’d fallen asleep in the first place, because her thoughts were a stressed-out, confused mess. But then she’d emerged from the shower feeling like she was carrying a lead blanket on her shoulders, and it had been all she could do to keep her eyes open. Maybe her brain had just needed to shut down. Maybe her sanity had just needed a break from this new reality. One where she had almost nothing.
The only saving grace in the whole situation was that she hadn’t yet combined her savings account with Grant’s, which meant she at least had some money to provide a cushion. Not that it was huge, but it was at least something.
She threw back the covers, got up, and made her way out to the kitchen in the dark. Lucy hopped off the end of the bed and padded after her. After a moment of fumbling for a light switch, Alexa found it, and then she was squinting against the brightness while her eyes adjusted. Standing at the sink, she filled a glass with water.
“You okay?” came a voice from behind her.
“Oh, hey,” she said, the glass nearly slipping from her hand in surprise. Maverick stood at the edge of the room, sexy as all hell with his sleep-mussed hair and wearing an unbuttoned pair of jeans and nothing else. Which reminded her that he liked to sleep naked. Or he used to. His tattoo-covered muscles were lean and hard, and her brain unhelpfully supplied her with the memories—so many molten-hot memories—of how all that hardness felt against her. “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry.”
“Wasn’t asleep.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the corner of the wall, the position emphasizing the bulge of his biceps and drawing her gaze to the maddening opening at his fly. Dark blond hair ran in a line down his abdomen and under the denim. And damn if her mind didn’t helpfully supply her brain with all kinds of images of exactly what lay beneath. She swallowed hard. “You neither?”
“I slept for a little while.” Sighing, she finished her drink and placed the glass in the sink. Everything inside her wanted to go to Maverick and burrow in against him. And at least a little of her wanted to go to him and push those jeans off his hips and down his thighs. Maybe reacquaint her mouth and fingers with every tattoo he had. The Live Free/Ride Free and crossed wrenches tattoos on his chest, the tribal black motorcycle on his arm that morphed into black flames, the black-and-white checkered flag that wrapped around his ribs on one side, the big piece on his shoulder that looked like he was mechanical under his skin—that one was new. Well, at least since they’d been together. But she’d lost the right to do any of those things. Worse, she’d thrown that right away.
“You gonna try to sleep some more?” he asked, dragging a hand through his hair. Hair she knew was so soft.
What was wrong with her? The last thing she needed to be doing right now was drooling over another man, but she couldn’t seem to stop noticing all the things that had always driven her crazy about Maverick Rylan.
“Al?”
“Huh?” Her gaze snapped to his, and found that dark, dark blue absolutely blazing. “Oh, uh. I’m not sure there’s much point. Maybe I’ll just watch some TV. Or something.”
He nodded toward the living room. “Maybe there’s something good on HGTV,” he said with a wink. “Probably not, but . . .”
Alexa chuckled. “Don’t say that like you don’t like a lot of those shows, too. You know you do.”
“Do not,” he said, shuffling toward the living room and yawning.
Walking out of the kitchen, she came up behind him. And the sight of his back nearly took her breath away. She’d forgotten how sexy his massive tattoo there was. The words Raven Riders arched across his shoulder blades, and below, a huge black raven clutched at the hilt of a blade stabbed through the eye of a skull. The club’s logo. Every fully patched Raven had one like it. Mav’s muscles rippled under the ink, making the big black bird seem alive.
“How much of the work around here did you do yourself?” she asked, glad when he dropped onto one end of the charcoal-gray couch, breaking her view of his impressive ink. She sat away from him, but not all the way at the other end either. She hugged her legs to her chest as Lucy perched on the rug on the other side of the coffee table and stared at them.
“I had some help, but I had a hand in all of it.” Mav flipped on the TV and changed the channel to a show about fixer-uppers.
“Uh-huh. Don’t worry, big bad
biker. Your love of HGTV is safe with me.” She gave him an innocent look, but inside this all felt so familiar that she could almost pretend that the last five years hadn’t happened. She and Maverick had always shared an interest in design. Interiors were her first love and building custom bikes was his, but they’d watched more than their fair share of shows about rehabs, renovations, flips, and more. They both liked learning new things and neither was afraid to try to do something themselves. She’d always loved refinishing and repurposing old furniture and, as the updates to his place proved, he had more than a little handyman skill. She used to enjoy watching him work on his bike projects in the chop shop at the Ravens’ clubhouse. She’d always found competence and confidence sexy as hell—and Maverick had both in spades.
“It’s a good thing I like you,” he said, yawning again. He stretched his legs out in front of him and settled his big body into the cushion behind him.
Alexa chuckled, but her smile slipped right back off her face. Because the past five years had happened. She couldn’t pretend they hadn’t, after all. More than that, she was going to have to deal with a whole host of consequences for all the things she’d let get so out of control.
They watched the show for a couple minutes, but as soon as a commercial played, her thoughts raced. Laying her head against her knees, she peered at Maverick. “I don’t know what to do about work in the morning.”
Maverick gave her a serious look. “Do you have any kind of a contract?”
She shook her head. “I’m in the middle of a huge project, though. The deadline’s next week. God, I don’t even have any clothes to wear.”
“I can run you home in the morning, Alexa. But if he’s realized you left your ring there, that you intend to leave him for good, you gotta prepare for him to be vindictive. And that maybe means violent, too. He’s already shown he’s not above that. But don’t worry. I can bring some of the guys if I need to.” Maverick shifted toward her, crooking one of his legs up on the couch. The position pulled the gap at his waist open, and her gaze couldn’t help but lock on the fascinating strip of skin it revealed.
