He places his hand over his throat before his words come out raspy and dry, “W-water, please?”
Shifting my eyes to an already prepared glass on a table less than a foot away from him, I let him know without saying a word. His gaze turns to the glass. Whether he’s too weak to get it for himself or not at this point is his problem until he answers some questions for me. To my surprise, he manages on his own to retrieve the glass and begins to drink. Within milliseconds, his slow pace turns to a gulp. “Easy there,” I order him, and his eyes meet mine before he pulls the rim of the glass from his lips, placing the glass back on the table. “I know your name is Edge per your MC cut, but who are you really and what do you want from me?”
A puzzled look crosses his face. “If you don’t mind lowering the fucking shotgun, I’d be happy to have a Q&A session with you. But right now, between the pounding in my head and the likely chance of my brains being splattered on the wall behind me have me a bit fucking overwhelmed.”
Is he playing me? Is this some form of reverse psychology to get me in a more vulnerable situation? His catheter immediately comes to mind. If he were to try anything stupid, he would regret it in about five seconds. “Okay, I’ll make a small compromise. You’ve got a catheter in your dick hole. Do you know what that is?” He lifts the sheet and takes a look at his manhood before a defeated look plasters his face and his lids close, probably in embarrassment. Inside I get a giggle out of it because the reality that I’ve not only seen his cock, but have touched it are setting in. “Yup, and it’s not one you can just yank out. It’s a balloon cath, Edge. In other words, you aren’t moving from that in any hurry unless you want your dick hole ripped wide open.”
The lines on his forehead deepen as his eyes showcase extreme worry. “Lady, I’m not gonna do anything. Fuck, can you please just get that goddamn gun out of my fucking face?”
That visual always gets the men. Taking a few steps back, I feel behind me for my chair before having a seat, lowering the shotgun down and across my lap. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m all ears.”
Struggling, he pushes himself into an upright position. “Rogue.” He cups the sides of his head with both hands. “Fuck. My head is so foggy and this pounding makes it hard to concentrate.”
Inching forward in my chair, I cross my legs. “Who is Rogue?”
“My Pres. He’s injured and I needed to get to him. That’s the last thing I remember before I lost control of my bike.” His eyes widen as he looks at me. “My bike. Oh, fuck, my bike.” His eyes plead for me to give him miraculous news that his motorcycle is and will be okay, but I can’t.
Shaking my head, I begin to feel that loss for him. I’m an ex old lady and I know how these bikers are about their bikes. “I’m sorry, there wasn’t a motorcycle anywhere near where I found your near-lifeless body.”
“Impossible,” he mutters low under his breath. “I was on my bike headed to Rogue and my brothers.”
“I’m sorry. I wish I had better news. So, you weren’t on a mission to locate and kill me?” I blurt out, still unsure if I can trust this man to give me an honest answer. But, I do feel like if he were, he wouldn’t have had an accident. Frank and his brothers are methodical and if they’d found me, it stands to reason they would’ve sent others after me by now.
“Kill you? Huh? Lady, I don’t even know your fucking name. Unless you’ve done something to my brothers, my family, I have zero reason to give a single fuck about you.”
I stand, setting the shotgun next to the chair as I narrow my eyes at his response. What nerve he has after I’ve spent weeks saving his life? And, if I’m honest with myself, it kind of stings hearing him say that. I blow out a heavy sigh, pushing down this awkward attachment I’ve developed to the stranger across from me. “Well, then, I guess we should start helping you to gain the rest of your strength back so you can return to them. And no, I don’t know your brothers or anything about you except that you’re a patched member of the Twisted Iron MC and your road name is Edge. Am I correct?”
He nods. “Hey, don’t get me wrong. I appreciate everything you’ve done to help me. And yes, you can keep calling me Edge as long as you give me your name,” he pries.
My hands find the comfort of my own hips and I can feel my lips purse as I arch a brow. “How about I will do what I want seeing as though we’re in my home, and I’ve taken care of you, yeah? I’ll continue to call you Edge because it’s a helluva a lot friendlier than the other names currently popping into my mind. You, catheter boy, will just have to deal. No name is what I am to you.”
“Wait, you’re handling my dick, yet I don’t even get to know your name?” The way the sentence leaves his mouth lets me know he’s about fed up with my blatant form of disrespect. Yeah, I know all about these men and the way they demand respect, even if it hasn’t been earned yet. Been there, done that, ain’t ever doing it again. He can deal with my mouth and attitude until I feel like he deserves otherwise. As far as I’m concerned, he’s invaded my home and space, whatever and whenever I feel like sharing is in my hands, not his. Yes, I willingly took on this task, but it’s who I am and unemployed or not, it’s an oath I took years ago.
“Pretty much. My house, my rules. Don’t like them? There’s the door.” I turn my head over my shoulder and point toward the front door. “Although, I’d suggest letting me remove that um...you know?” I raise my hands up. “Your dick, your call.”
Chapter Two
Edge
It’s been a week since I woke up and have now met some grizzled asshole who goes by the name of Briggs. I’m not sure if he’s her father, old man, or lover, but whoever he is, he seems to be highly protective over her. Did I mention what a pleasant man he is? No? That’s because he’s not. Just wait until I have all of my strength, that old man will get his jaw crushed in one second flat if he keeps this shit up. Amongst meeting the uber mysterious and untrusting Briggs, I have inadvertently learned the name of my savior. Talia. It suits her really. It’s unique and exotic. Thank fuck she removed that god-forsaken cath from my cock, because getting a hard on with that fucker in it is painful. Two things I discovered as she removed it—my dick is still fully functioning. The second her soft hands barely touched it, it jumped and grew in response. I watched and took pride at the heat that plastered her cheeks as she watched. Even if it wasn’t the most pleasant experience for me. That was the first time I saw how vulnerable she was, and how beautiful she is. That hard exterior is merely a front. I’ve learned she lives in an underground house. Always thought those were a fucking myth. Nope, it’s true, and explains why she gets no cell service in this death hole. I have really appreciated her kindness and hospitality, but it’s time my brothers know I’m in fact alive. Fuck, they’ve probably already held a service in my honor. Yet, as much as I need to let them know I’m alive, I have this desire to find out why such a beautiful woman is living so hidden. She’s running from something bad. It would explain so much about how and why she’s choosing this lifestyle.
Talia left earlier to do some grocery shopping, grabbing dinner or something of that sort. I was half-way listening when she was spouting off what she needed to do. It’s been a good hour or so since she left. I hear some wrestling and cussing outside of the front door, grateful that I finally have some of my strength back, I head toward it to find out what all the fucking noise out there is about. When I open the door, the sight in front of me stops me dead in my tracks. I close the door quickly, thinking I must’ve fallen asleep, and have woken up to some hillbilly, backwoods, reality show or some shit. Shaking my head, I hesitantly open the door and can’t believe that my first observation was indeed correct. There’s a basket overflowing with fresh leaves, some sort of berries and other bullshit I can’t quite figure out. Can you even eat wild berries? Is this bitch going to attempt to poison my ass? I know I haven’t been the best patient, but even I don’t deserve that sort of punishment.
“Motherfucker! This hide is being a pain in the ass.�
�� Curious about what she means when she says hide, I walk forward and notice that she’s skinning...what the fuck is that? When I see a rabbit, I nearly lose the contents of my stomach. Fuck this shit! I ain’t eating damn Peter Cottontail for dinner, she can eat that shit all on her own. I’ll take my chances with the berries before I eat some rabies infected wild animal. Turning around, without even being noticed, I walk back inside and decide I’ve had enough of living like I’m in prehistoric times. No cell service, clearly no grocery store, no internet, I’m fucking over it. There are some things I will never take for granted again. I crawl back into the bed and firmly clench my eyes shut. Maybe she’ll think I’m asleep and won’t even bother me for what appears to be the dinner of death.
When I hear a war-cry of victory, I’m ready to run and take my chances in the wild. “I knew I’d get that skin off,” she declares with so much conviction, it makes my stomach begin to turn.
“I don’t care how hard she worked on catching dinner. I’m not eating that shit. What are we, in the wild west?” I utter to myself as she continuously becomes more excited. I hear what sounds like a meat cleaver making crunching noises that I have to cup my ears and hum a tune my mother used to sing to me in times of distress. Sure, I’ve done and participated in far worse involving humans, but an animal? I mean, I’m a meat eater, sure, but I prefer my meat already prepared and from the damn store. The door creaks open and I shelter my face with the blanket. Game on. Time for me to be too sleepy and avoid this catastrophic meal.
I hear her footsteps and then they stop. Squinting, I open an eye to see if I can catch a glimpse of why she’s suddenly stopped. Oh shit, she’s looking at me. “Dinner will be ready in about an hour or so, Edge. It’s full of vitamins and packed with protein. Hope you have an appetite,” she softly says in my direction before I hear her walk into the kitchen area.
Why is there no back door in this fucking death trap she calls a home? And, protein my ass. More like rabies and poison-fueled wild berries. She’s a sweet woman, sure, but maybe she’s secretly more like that crazy lady from the movie Misery. One thing's for certain, I’m not eating dinner tonight. Nope.
Several hours have passed, and I’ll admit, whatever she’s cooking smells delicious, but I refuse to partake. Fuck, the sound of her footsteps flood my ears and I know she’s approaching. No matter what, I’m out of here tomorrow.
“Edge?” she first whispers low and close to my ear and I don’t move. I hear the clinking of several dishes being set down on the table beside me. “Edge,” she calls out louder to me. “Wake up. It’s time to get some nourishment in your body.” She begins to gently nudge me, and again I don’t budge. “Edge?” the last time she says it her words come out frantic and she yanks the blanket down my body, placing her hands in areas they otherwise don’t belong while she sits next to me. She also checks me for a pulse before I give up on my game and slowly open my eyes.
Rubbing them for added emphasis, I ask her, “Talia, what is it?”
She bats my arm as she clutches her chest and exhales. “You scared me.” She stands. “You must’ve really been in a deep sleep, huh?” She giggles to herself, sounding relieved.
“Uh, yeah.” I rub my eyes once more for added emphasis. “Haven’t felt so good today, so I’m just trying to sleep it off.” I begin laying the foundation for my ultimate excuse. Purposely, I visually acknowledge the food she’s set next to me. “Looks great.” I am lying my ass off as I choke back my gag reflex. Casting my eyes to hers, I muster up the most pitiful look and bring it forth on my face. “It’s just that my stomach hasn’t felt so great today. I hate that you’ve went to all this trouble and I won’t be able to share this meal with you.”
“Oh, nonsense,” she declares, turning on her heel as she heads back toward the kitchen.
Nonsense? If I say I’m not eating, she can’t fucking make me. I mean who does she think she is?
Watching as she returns, she places two bowls that I assume are hers, and sets them at a table built for two. After doing that, she walks up to me, grabs my bowls, and takes them to the table. Turning back toward me, she waves me over to join her. “It’s homemade soup and a vitamin-packed organic salad. A few bites won’t hurt. You need all the strength you can get. Tomorrow’s your big day, remember?”
Oh, I remember. She’s supposed to help me back to the clubhouse tomorrow. Unless I’m in fact right and there’s an alternative to that idea? Like possibly by tomorrow being my ‘big day’ as in I’ll be meeting my maker. Oh no, lady, I’ve made it this far, you ain’t fooling me now at the last leg of this race. But, I’ll entertain her offer to sit at the table. Maybe when she’s not looking, I can pretend to that I’m eating. I’m still a little weak, but for the most part, I could escape here if I really want. “How could I forget? Can’t wait to see the looks on their faces when they see what they’ll probably think is a ghost on their faces as I make my grand entrance,” I say, standing before I make my way over and take a seat across from her.
“Well, go on,” she encourages me to dig in, but I notice she hasn’t touched hers yet. “I wanna see the look on your face when you taste how delicious this meal is.”
“I bet you do,” I mumble under my breath as I pick up the spoon.
“What was that?” She cocks her head curiously as she casts her now glaring eyes at me.
That’s it, I can’t take it anymore. I never hit or harm women unless it involves club shit gone wrong, and I know she’s saved my life, but that mad woman chopping up a bunny earlier was some freaky shit. “I’m not fucking eating this.” Pushing my way from the table I stand. “I saw it. I saw you earlier, Talia. You were skinning a fucking bunny for fuck’s sake! And these?” I point to the foreign-looking berries in the funky-looking leafy salad she claims is so nutritious. “Probably fucking poisonous. Look, I don’t usually hurt women, but I will make it home to my brothers no later than tomorrow. So, whatever you had planned, the jig is up.”
Her face shades the color of crimson and I watch as the anger seethes from deep within her until it’s plastered on her face. Forcefully, she kicks the chair from behind her and stands. “You think I would fucking feed you something poisonous? You think something is off with me because I sometimes hunt my food? And what the fuck do you mean that you don’t usually hit women?” I open my mouth to defend every word I just spoke, but her tone elevates, and her words cut mine off. “Listen here, jackass! You have no idea what hell I’ve endured and why I live and do some of the things I do.” She picks up her salad fork, aiming it in my direction. Fuck, I knew she was crazy, but it’s gonna take more than a salad fork to end me. “I have a garden outside where I grow fruits and vegetables, asshole. And yeah, occasionally I hunt for my dinner. I’m a country girl at heart, born and raised. I don’t even know why I’m defending myself to you!” I watch as tears pool in her grey eyes. Fuck. What have I done? Is it too late to blame it on all the meds I’ve been on? “If I wanted you dead, I had plenty of opportunities to end you while you were defenseless, you asshole! But no, I saved your life! And all I wanted was one last dinner together before I take you back.” She stabs the fork into the wooden top of the table. “You’ve certainly ruined any chance of that. Oh, and it’s nice to know you don’t usually hit women! Just get out! Now!” She grabs her shotgun that was well-hidden and aims it at me. “There’s a forty-five in the drawer of the nightstand I let you use. Take it because between all the wild animals roaming around at night, you might just need it.” I watch as a tear slips and rolls down her cheek, but she doesn’t waiver.
“Talia…”
She steps a foot closer. “Go!”
Lifting my hands in the air, I display my defeat while hiding the inner turmoil now squeezing my chest knowing I was wrong and hurt her. I grab my cut and the gun before a wave of truth crashes into me. She trusts me even when I didn’t offer her mine. Fuck, even that thought crushes something unexplainable inside of me. “Talia, thank you for…”
�
�Just go, Edge! Get the fuck out! Ungrateful bastard.” She lowers her head before turning it away from me, spitting her venomous words and they quickly penetrate my flesh—ushering their way through my veins until they’re finally resting in my chest. I don’t argue or further attempt to make this right, instead I do as she wishes, I leave.
Chapter Three
Edge
I must’ve walked and hiked for what felt like miles guided only by the limited amount of stars helping to light my way before I finally reach a dimly lit road. Yes, a road I’m all too familiar with—the same one I was on when I lost control of my bike. Fucking hell. The clubhouse is at least ten miles from here. No cell phone. No bike. I take one last look over my shoulder down the hill and back into the darkness. I’m unsure what I was hoping to see, but the only thing I can think about is Talia. I scrub my face with my palms. Get it together, Edge. It’s not like I’ve never seen a woman cry before. Shit, unless it’s family it’s never bothered me before. Women are clingy, emotional creatures who are fun to play around with and fuck. That’s it. After I shake off whatever foreign feeling that was, I begin my walk. I sure as hell hope someone passes by soon that won’t mind giving me a lift. Thanks to Talia, at least I’m armed. There it is again. That strange ache in my chest, why?
After what feels like hours, oncoming headlights flood my vision, nearly rendering me blind. I’m on the shoulder, so I should be safe enough and what fucking choice do I have anyway? After I wave my arms around like a lunatic, the truck slows down and stops.
Fueling the Edge Page 2
