Riding Resistance: Soul Shifterz MC

by Kayce Kyle

  “Honestly, it’s my business and I really don’t want it to spread around the clubhouse. I think my dad would be more pissed at that.”

  Hopefully, that struck a nerve in him somewhere and he shuts the fuck up and lets this go.

  “Fine,” he answers reluctantly before walking out and pulling the door closed behind him.

  That was the easy part. Now I’m gonna have to explain this somehow to Justice. I lean up against the headboard and pull my knees to my chest preparing for the inevitable. The questions, the answers. I know he’s about to confront me on this.

  I won’t even bother trying to lie to him at this point. He can sniff a lie on me. Same as I can on him. It would be pointless. I just bury my head into my knees and prepare myself for what’s coming.

  Chapter 7

  Justice

  Just like I’d thought, she had another nightmare. Judging by that pleading look in her eyes when Joker was pushing her and me for answers, this Dane motherfucker isn’t just a mythical creature when she sleeps.

  Slowly taking a place near Jenalyn who is now curled up on the bed, I begin my only mission in life right now. Swallowing back my own nausea at the thought of her answers, I begin prying.

  “Please, look at me,” I ask. I need to look her in the eyes.

  For the first time since she’s been back, this might be the only time I can think of that looking into her eyes will ease me.

  Slowly raising her head, I can see both the tears and hesitation as they form in her eyes.

  As usual, she starts out not wanting to make a big deal out of it.

  Wiping away those perfectly formed water puddles building, she embarrassingly smiles at me.

  That…that fucking look right there. Those two tiny motions, further crushing something deep inside my dark heart that I didn’t know was even possible, or existed.

  This is something different. This is personal, not only for her but for me-my emotions attached to hers.

  “Jus, look, I’m not gonna even try to lie to you. So just ask whatever it is you think you might know, or wanna know.” She starts off like her explanation to me is an obligatory one.

  This is not at all how I want her to feel, but the anticipation and fury building inside me is about to combust. Fuck. I don’t know what to do or how to help her.

  I just want to fix this for her, and the only way I know how to fix it is to murder the son of a bitch.

  “You’re doing it again, Justice,” she says as she looks down at my clenched fists.

  Sluggishly I free my hands from the fists they’d formed. It’s painful doing so, as if they were sewn together, as I struggle freeing them.

  “Sorry. Look I’m gonna just come out and say it and if I’m wrong, you can slap me for it. A complete freebie this time,” I offer.

  She actually smirks at my comment, offering me some inward peace, even if small.

  “You’re clearly having nightmares about someone named Dane. The other day, before…” I pause looking down because I’m unsure how she’s been dealing with the repercussions of the shootout and that could open up a whole new set of issues.

  The warmth of her hand finds mine and it’s as if in this moment, she’s filled me with the strength I need to continue. I cautiously glance up at her, because the last time I made physical contact she pulled away.

  “Justice,” she says looking down at our hands. Hers laying on top of mine, then looking back up at me. “It’s okay. You’re looking at me as if I’m gonna break.”

  Her words accompanied by her touch allow me to finish. “It’s just the day of the attack on the clubhouse you had a nightmare obviously. You said a man’s name. Dane…then you asked for me, sort of.”

  Her hand tightens on mine. “I know you want to know what happened so you can fix it…your way. Truth is, you can’t just fix this…or me. I sought counseling in California. I go as needed.”

  My heart begins racing and aching all at once. Maybe it’s as simple as she doesn’t want me to know exactly what happened, but I don’t think I can live with that. Once again, she’s doing this thing where she has complete control and I just have to accept it. Fuck that. I don’t want to come across as insensitive, but at the same time, I am being driven by a need to remedy this. Someway, somehow.

  “Look, whether you tell me or not this motherfucker is dead. You can call all the shots on everything else, but not on this. Not-fucking-this.” My body tenses as I raise my voice and anger, frustration, and helplessness consume me.

  Continuing my unintentional rant driven by pure emotion, I say, “Since you’re not giving in and opening up to me, I suggest you fucking find a therapist here. Something. God dammit Jen, what did he do to you?” I finish, blurting out the ultimate question.

  I stand up distancing myself from her, even though the only place I want to be is holding her in my fucking arms at this point. My need to protect her is inwardly driving me to the point of insanity. Only I’m not even sure if she would even want to be touched?

  I’ve been wanting to pull her shirt up, and back over her exposed shoulder since I’ve been in here. I don’t know up from fucking down anymore. What’s right or even wrong anymore.

  Yet if she tells me what I think she’s about to, I don’t trust my emotions. I might put a hole in the wall with my fists, or start breaking shit. This fucking pussy has hit her, beat her, or…worse. If there is such a thing. Every one of those offenses are punishable by death.

  She stays sitting. “Sit down, Justice. You wanna know? Sit the fuck down, please.”

  Eyeing her, I’m none too pleased with her request. I would rather suck it up and have answers than keep living in turmoil inside not knowing. I’m sure not feeling like the almighty enforcer anymore. This one petite brunette sure knows how to always manage to bring me to my fucking knees. It has never failed to be proven true. Time and time again, she is my only weakness.

  I comply but keep some distance, this time, taking my retreat at the end of the bed.

  “No,” she says shaking her head. “Come here,” she says placing her hand right back to where I was sitting earlier next to her.

  “You’re going to be the second person on this planet that even knows about this. Since you clearly won’t rest until you know, I’m gonna tell you, but you’re gonna sit right here next to me. This is an up close and personal experience and that’s just how it’s gonna be shared. With you…right here, up close and personal.”

  Slowly and reluctantly I inch toward her. When I’m close enough, she grabs my hand firmly and holds onto it like she’s holding on for dear life. For once it feels like she needs me as I know I’ve always needed her.

  I can tell she’s hurting inside but has won the battle of courage as she composes herself and begins. “Dane Price, that’s his name.”

  I fight my own internal war inside at just the sound of his name.

  She tightens her grip on my hand. “He didn’t rape me, Justice.”

  I blow out a deep heavy breath that felt like it’d been laying there like a cement block.

  “I dated him for almost a year. I broke it off with him when he wanted me to move in. He was getting too clingy, bordering controlling. After that, we remained friends. Awkward at first, but all of those negative qualities he’d developed while we dated disappeared when we were just friends. I even helped him at his Art Gallery when I wasn’t working with Tess. One day after work, he closed the gallery and invited me upstairs for one drink as just friends. Maybe I was naïve, or maybe just too trusting?”

  The thought of this asshole dating her alone is pissing me off and she must sense it because every time my body unintentionally reacts, she squeezes my hand again. Each squeeze feels like a silent plea from her begging me to stay strong for her.

  “Anyway, he must’ve thought it meant more than just two friends sharing a drink. He started trying to kiss me and I told him no.”

  “God dammit that’s it!” I say bolting up off the bed squeezing my head
with my hands. Eventually bringing them into a praying position. My fingertips landing just under my nose. I will fucking kill him.

  “Justice. You wanted to know. Now please…please sit back down.”

  I rub my brow and temple before conforming.

  She takes my hand this time and places it on her heart. Once again, her hand encases mine. “Feel that?”

  Confused and overwhelmed at where exactly she’s going next, I answer with a nod gesturing yes. Not sure I trust my own tone just yet.

  “It’s still beating…because of you, Justice. I fought him off because as he began attacking me, all I could think about in that moment was how I’d never get the chance to finally tell you goodbye.”

  Two tiny tears escape her perfect eyes sliding down her cheeks. “I never told you goodbye before I boarded that plane for California and if nothing else, I couldn’t die knowing the last thing we ever did was fight.”

  Still unable to speak in this moment because I’m afraid my voice may tremble, and I’ll be damned if I cry, or let her or anyone else see me do it. I manage to wipe away those lone tears that have stained her beautiful face with my free hand. The other one she has a death grip on still holding it against her chest.

  That cement block that had left my chest earlier, has now found its way back. In the fight of her life, she thought about me.

  “I hit him over the head with a wine bottle. Bleeding, he still came after me as I ran away. He grabbed my arm swinging me around and I slipped and fell down. Yeah, just like the fucking movies. Trying to escape and I fall down,” she says with a small laugh.

  My brow furrows and I can feel the skin on my forehead crinkle at her laughter. Nothing about this shit is fucking funny.

  “Don’t give me that look. I have to make light of it sometimes Justice or it will consume me.”

  I just grunt at her notion.

  “I choked him, kneed him in the nuts managing to cause him enough pain so I could finally escape. I left there with only a few bruises and scrapes, most importantly my life. I’d never seen him like that. I pressed charges and he was arrested. Put on probation for assault, and I have a restraining order.”

  All of this, she says with only two tiny tears managing to ever escape. I know her and she’s desperately fighting an onslaught on the inside. Jenalyn is not just strong by surname, she’s strong inside. It’s one of the qualities I always loved most about her. There’s also a not so sturdy side to her that she likes to keep hidden from the world. That vulnerable soft, sweet side I’ve witnessed.

  I’ve held her in my arms while she sobbed after we fought. After she fought with her parents over wanting to leave Texas.

  She finally lets go of my hand over her heart. She’s gauging me for a reaction. I’m hammered with twisted thoughts of how I will handle this piece of shit Dane. I don’t want to show her those emotions, though. All I wanna do is hold onto her tighter now more than ever.

  In this moment, I have a realization that she’s always the risk, the chance I will take.

  I gently place my hand behind her head pulling her into me slowly. I don’t know why, but I’m surprised she lets me. She even wraps her arms around my waist and leans in closer. I rest my chin on top of her head that’s buried into my chest. Again, her grip on me is as if she’s holding on for dear life.

  All of my buried feelings resurface all at once. It’s like a volcanic eruption in my chest. I’m never letting her go again and I don’t care if I’m wrong. Or how I have to prove that to her, but I will.

  She gets no choice this time. She’s mine, always has been. I should’ve never left her the choice five years ago. It won’t happen again. I’m no longer that man. My whole life has been re-gifted to me and she rests in the safety of my arms. I plan on keeping it this way.

  Chapter 8

  Jenalyn

  I cannot believe Justice acted so calm. It’s exactly what I needed from him, along with that embrace. I can’t remember the last time I felt so safe and it felt normal. I could’ve stayed in his arms for the rest of time in that moment, only it was interrupted by a call from Tess.

  She’d just landed at the airport and needed me to come get her. Shit with all the bullshit going on, I’d forgotten she was coming to town.

  When I said, I was going to get my friend Tess, my dad naturally insisted someone go with me. Considering Justice was basically glued to my hip since my admission earlier, he wasted no time exclaiming to my dad that was already a given.

  Justice asked Ace to drive the SUV and he didn’t hesitate. We’re all pretty sick of being cooped up and all the noise from the repairs being made to the clubhouse. Specifically, Justice’s room. Considering it was the only major target for some reason.

  My feet are still sore, but they’ve got nothing on Justice’s wound. That was made evident in the backseat we are sitting in as Ace rounds a corner pushing Justice’s shoulder against the window.

  “Dammit, bro,” Justice calls out and the pain he’s trying to hide surfaces.

  Ace looks back at Justice from the rearview mirror. “Sorry, man. I forgot.”

  Ace and I make eye contact in that mirror and he silently chuckles and I do my best to let him know I disapprove. Turning the curve of his grin into a straight line.

  The surrounding chaos of the last few days has left my brain scrambled and in complete disarray. I got so caught up in my own nightmares and bullshit, that I completely paid no attention to Justice and his gaping wound.

  Undoing my seat belt, I reach over to check on him.

  Only to have him snap at me. “What the fuck, Jen? Put your damn seat belt back on. Especially with this Jeff fucking Gordon wanna-be driving.”

  Normally I would protest such a demand, but there is something very different in his tone with me that I don’t yet understand. All I know is, I do as he commands without question. Maybe I need this, or maybe I just needed Justice in general. This is definitely a newer side of him I’ve never seen. Normally, he let me call most, if not all the shots.

  Before I can strap my own seat belt, he’s leaned over strapping it for me. The backside of his forearm grazes my right nipple perking it up immediately. Along with my full attention. That longing, familiar sensation is sent straight between my legs and leaves me wanting more.

  I look over at him looking him up and down. It was a secret I’d only ever told Tess. Not even Dane, before he became a psycho or the few flings I’d had, could do the things to my body that Justice could. Nobody but Justice ever seemed to be able to reach that certain place within my body or soul.

  It never mattered the type of sex we had, rough, easy, hell even the so-called hate sex we had mid-fight always sent me to an alternate universe. Leaving me with an euphoric, longing hangover. Always needing and wanting more.

  It’s not, nor has it ever been only about the sexual chemistry we have, or the fact that he is so damn physically attractive. I’m pretty sure every woman to ever grace his presence becomes instantly wet upon the mere sight of him.

  It’s like our souls escape our bodies in that moment, but stay completely connected. A burning desire inside of me is curious if that is still true. We are both so different now, but are we also still the same?

  Justice notices my much too long stare, accompanied with an emotional stroll down memory lane that has affected me physically as he points out. “Your lips dry, babe? Cause the way you’re staring at me and licking them, I’ll go ahead and assume your panties aren’t,” he leans in and whispers in my ear. His breath against my body sends a shiver shooting straight to my core.

  This is what I’m talking about. He has the uncanny ability to read my thoughts and emotions like a book. Our connection runs much deeper than just physical. There is a window to my soul and I’m certain he’s the only one who can see through it. I almost detest he knows me this well. I also know him all too well. Our thoughts and emotions are getting back to their synchronicity.

  I tease him back whispering in his ear so clo
se I make sure the warmth of my words resonates for a while. “That may have been true if I were wearing panties, babe…but since I’m not,” I warn, slowly backing away.

  Babe? He called me babe. Oh, yes, I can already see where this is going. I also see through the hazy window he tries to keep hidden. The one that leads to the depth of his emotions. We are headed toward a crash course collision. Mind, body, and soul. Consciously I warn myself, but something much deeper is in control.

  Justice is clearly in the driver’s seat this go around. At this rate, I’m being led by emotions and obvious hormones. I may have no choice. Was I really thinking this? I always made my own choices. This is starting to feel completely different, though.

  He sinks down in his seat and looks at me menacing. I’m not sure if I’ve pissed him off, or turned him on. This so-called new version of Justice may be more dominating, but I still know a deepness to him I’m pretty sure nobody else does. It’s certainly gonna take some exploring him more for me to find out.

  I want him so bad. To feel his hands on my body again. To feel him inside of me. To feel him in every way, to be one again with him.

  These past few days have been nothing like I’d expected. It took a tragedy and me spilling my dark secret to him for me to even start realizing my feelings were abruptly resurfacing.

  I realized in California, that my feelings would never be just friendly where Justice is concerned, but I knew he’d likely never forgive me. Plus, there’s always the whole club business. I slump down into my seat also. Was it even possible to find a happy medium?

  Taking me by surprise, Justice places his hand on top of the dark denim shorts covering my now very wet and aching pussy, cupping then squeezing his hand on it as he slides his fingers underneath my bottom. The lack of actual skin to skin drives me wild inside. “Mine. All mine. Always has been. Always will be,” he hisses back. His dark blue eyes now speaking a language I don’t quite understand yet, but it’s owning me.