She looked to Hash, who looked right through her, then she met Blaze’s gaze again and did what she had to do. She pleaded. “Please, Blaze…”
His voice tight when he said, “He saw you.”
He’d seen her? When? Her brows furrowed.
Blaze took a menacing step in her direction, his voice rising with each word. “With your ex at dinner.”
Damn. How had that happened? It didn’t matter how it happened; it happened. Now, she needed to fix the mess her parents got her into.
“Leave.”
Her gaze snapped to Hash. Bearded, tatted, wide and broad, the look on his face, scary. She swallowed. “I need to see him.”
Blaze shook his head. “Can’t let you through.”
She didn’t want to get into this with them but didn’t have another choice. “You don’t understand. I didn’t know he would be there. I—”
“Who? Your ex or Cuss?” Blaze pulled out a pack of cigarettes, looked down at her stomach then clenched his jaw and shoved the pack back into his pocket. “Don’t tell me you came all the way here to tell him you would’ve been more careful had you known he was watchin’ you.”
It stung. She took a step in Blaze’s direction. “You know who I meant. I was meeting my parents like I meet them every other week. I didn’t know Mark would be there. I didn’t know my parents invited him.”
“Should’ve left then. What you shouldn’t’ve done was sit there eatin’ filet while you’re carryin’ Cuss’s kid.”
Her lips parted. Tiffany had no idea Blaze knew though it explained why he kept looking at her stomach. She thought no one else knew. She told Tina, before she’d even told Thomas, but she also told Thomas Tina knew. He hadn’t bothered to tell her he told Blaze. She didn’t care though. All she cared about at that moment, straightening things out with Thomas.
Taking a deep breath, her eyes watered. Times like these, she hated being pregnant. It seemed she spent every other hour crying. Songs, commercials, anything did it, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise she couldn’t rein them in right then. “Blaze, you know I love him. I know you know because everyone knows because it’s written on my face every time I look at him, because I wouldn’t be keeping this baby if I didn’t, and because I wouldn’t be here convincing you to let me through.”
Looking away, Blaze sighed heavily. “Doesn’t matter what I think. Doesn’t matter what any of us think. He saw you with your ex, and he’s convinced you don’t give a shit about him. He’s been drinkin’ for a while meaning he’s shit-faced. Honest to God, he sees you, don’t know what the fuck he’d do. And you’re pregnant Tiff.” He shook his head. “Can’t let you through.”
Tears flowed like a river down her face. Her voice shaky when she said, “L-let me worry about that.”
His jaw hardened. Then his gaze shot to her stomach and met hers again. He shut his eyes and shook his head.
“P-please, Blaze.”
When he met her stare, his eyes softened. He moved, barely, but just enough to let her through.
“Brother, you shouldn’t have let her—” Hash shouted.
“Trust me, yeah?”
She walked down the long, narrow hallway, passing the living area then climbed the stairs and knocked on Thomas’s door.
“Leave me the fuck alone!” The sound of an object crashing against the door came next.
She took a deep breath and parted the door. No easy task. A lamp lay in pieces behind it. Her gaze scanned the tossed room. Clothes and random items scattered about in disarray. Thomas sat in the back corner, legs spread, a bottle of vodka clutched in his hand. His head bowed staring at the ground.
He looked up, met her stare, and glared. A light bruise under his right eye, his lip bled. Taking a long pull of his drink, he slurred, “Leavvve.”
Yes, wasted. Clear with one look. Thomas could drink with the best of them. Needless to say, it took a lot for him to even get a buzz. He’d probably drunk the near empty bottle he held tightly.
Guilt clogged her throat. Her fault. All her fault. Blaze had been right. She shouldn’t have stayed, should’ve walked away from her parents, from Mark.
Bracing herself, she entered the room, shut the door behind her, and closed the distance between them. Two feet away, she squatted in front of him then sat with her legs tucked under her. “Thomas—”
“Don’t call me that!” His gaze unfocused and yet menacing. “Don’t fuckin’ call me anything. Leavvve. Go fuckkk your college boy.”
“I didn’t know he would be there. I didn’t—”
He leaned forward, suddenly. “Is he mineee? The kid growing inside you, is he really mineee?”
Her hand flew to her belly as if trying to shield her baby from hearing his father’s accusation. It hurt. Her heart, her mind, her whole body hurt. Who knew just one simple question could kill you from the inside out?
Tiffany tried to convince herself he didn’t mean it. He’d only said it because he was drunk. Deep down, she knew he knew the baby was his. It couldn’t be anyone else’s. But nothing she thought kept her eyes from watering so much she couldn’t keep the tears from spilling.
“You know I haven’t been with anyone else. You know this baby is yours.”
He put the bottle to his lips and slung back a gulp, never losing hold of her gaze. “I saw you with him.”
“I didn’t know he’d be there, Thomas—”
His face flamed. “I saw you with him!” He screamed so loud, she jumped. “Perfect couple. Rich, college girl with the rich, college, pretttty boyyyyyy.”
“You have to believe I didn’t know he’d be—”
“Did you tell your parents you’re pregnant? Did you tell them the low class, trash biker knocked you up?”
She shook her head. “Mark was there and—”
“Anddd you couldn’t stand the thought of him knowing you were carrying biker trash inside you?”
She paled. “It’s not why I didn’t tell them, Thomas. It wasn’t the right time.”
He took another long gulp then dropped the bottle next to him. “Perfect couple… College boy and the rich girl.”
“I never loved him. You know I never loved him the way I love you.”
“You’re lying. You love him. It doesn’t matter how much you love him ’cause you wanna love him more. You wished it. You prayed for that shit.”
She blinked, and tears spilled out of her eyes. Tiffany couldn’t deny it. She had wished and prayed for it, but that was before she thought she could have Thomas.
He leaned forward, grasping her arm, his fingers biting into her skin. Then he screamed in her face. “Didn’t you?”
“T-that was before you, before I thought I’d ever have you—”
Releasing her, he leaned back against the wall. “You’re fuckin’ lying. You still wish you could loveee him instead of a piece of shit like me. You wish you had his kid inside you instead of mine.”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t. I-I want you. I want our baby—”
“I don’t makeee you laugh. I saw you with him, know he makes you laugh.” His head loped to the side then down. Resting his elbows on his knees, he ran his hands through his hair.
Her brows furrowed. She waited for his next words.
Lifting his head, he met her gaze. “Saw you. Threeeee years ago ‘round Christmas. You were with him leaving the supermarket, wearing a blue dress and black fur coat. He wrapped his arm ‘round you, leaned into you, and said something to makeee you laugh.”
Oh, God. He had seen her with Mark.
“He opened the car door for you. He kissssed you. You looked happy. You were happy. Dressed to the nines in your fur coat, riding a fancy ass car with a college boy you wished you loved more who could makeee you laugh.”
He sighed heavily. His eyes darkened. “I’ve never madeee you laugh.”
Her heart clenched. If only he knew, she didn’t need him to make her laugh. She just needed him, anyway she could have him. “You do more
for me than make me laugh—”
Looking away, he grabbed the vodka, brought the near empty bottle to his lips, tilted his head back, and took another deep swallow. “I knew this would never work. It’s why I waited so long to have you ’cause I knew it’d end, and ’cause I knew when it ended, it’d kill me. Can’t be mad ‘bout it though, said I had you for at least a day, I’d take you for at least a day. Got more than a day. Gotta kid, too.”
He shook his head. “Can’t be mad. Gotta kid, half meee, half youuu.” Lifting a brow, bottle firm in his grip, he pointed his finger at her. “You take care of my kid while he’s in you, right?”
Tears trickling down her cheeks, hands shaking, she stared at him.
He leaned into her and screamed. “Right? You care ‘bout me at all, you ever cared ‘bout me at all, tell me you’ll care for my kid till he’s outta you. Then you can give him to me. I’ll take care of him.”
God, he was killing her, slowly, but surely with each word. “Thomas, we’re going to take care of our baby together. I’m not leaving you. I love you as much as I love our baby.”
He slammed the bottle so hard on the hardwood floor, a miracle it didn’t break. “You are leaving ’cause I’m letting you go.”
Her gut twisted, nausea flooded her. No, Thomas wouldn’t. He would never end them, said so himself. “You said you’d never let me go. You said—”
“You were right. You love someone, you let them go. Just…” He dropped his head, pressing his knuckles against his temple.
After a long moment, he lifted his face allowing her to glimpse the tears in his eyes.
A biker, her biker in tears… It nearly did her in.
She stilled, holding her breath, waiting for his next words.
“Take care of my kid. Inside you…take care…of him…” His voice pleaded, eyes begged.
“Thomas, I love you, only you. We’ll take care of our baby together.”
His eyes darkened, sadness so much of it shining through. He shook his head. “No, we won’t ’cause you don’t love me, and I love you so much I can’t even hate you. Means I gotta let you go, so you can be happy even if it’s without me. I love you that much, Tiff. I’ve loved you that much since the first day I saw you…” His voice rough, ragged.
“That day, I made you mine. You’ve been mine all this time. You’ll always be mine. Always. Don’t matter if you’re with someone else.”
A deep throbbing pain sliced through her. It hurt so much she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Everything he said was so beautiful, so meaningful, but it hurt the same. She didn’t just hear the words that meant the world to her. She heard the grief in his voice and read the defeat in his eyes.
For him, this was the end. He could think that all he wanted.
For her, this was only the beginning. She wouldn’t let him let her go.
“Loveee you so much…can’t hate yooou.”
She slid closer until nestled between his legs, clutching his cheeks, if only so he could focus on her face and what she had to say. “I’m staying, Thomas. I’m not letting you let me go. I’m staying because I’ve only ever loved one man, and that’s you.”
He grasped her neck with one hand, circled his other arm behind her, tugging her to him until her chest pressed against his. Then he crushed his lips against hers and delved into her mouth. His tongue entwined and played with hers. Even drunk, he was an amazing kisser. She couldn’t help but moan.
Suddenly, he tore his lips away, resting his forehead against hers. “Shit.”
His lip began to bleed. She rubbed her finger across it.
His gaze met hers and narrowed, jaw hardening. “Did you kiss him?” Before she could answer, he asked, “Did you fuck him?”
Her eyes watered for seemingly the hundredth time. Why he continued to hurt her, she didn’t know, but she couldn’t take much more. “No, Thomas. I didn’t kiss him. I didn’t fuck him. I’m not with him. I’m with you because I want to be with you.”
He angled his head back until it hit the wall behind him then released her. “Go, Tiff. I’m letting you go.”
“I told you I’m not leaving.”
Cupping her cheek, he leaned forward until his breaths heated her face. “Go, ‘fore I change my mind and keep you.”
She pressed her body against him, burrowing herself deep. “Keep. Me.”
“Not playing. Leave.”
“If I wanted him, I’d be with him.”
His whole body tensed then began pulsing. His fingers at her cheek squeezed then trailed around to her neck.
Heart pounding, she held her breath.
“Maybe you wanna keep us both. Maybe you wanna keep him for appearances, marry him, and have his kids. Maybe you wanna keep your trash biker ’cause you know I can fuck you real good and make you come, hard.”
“Then why am I having your baby?”
His hand around her neck tightened but not so it hurt. “Maybe you wanna pawn it off as his.” Clenching his jaw, he dragged her to him until her lips grazed his. “I won’t let you, Tiff. The kid is mine. Gonna be trash like his dad ’cause he’s a Layne, and he’s part of this MC.”
“He’s ours.”
His eyes narrowed. “Know what? You missed your chance.” He grabbed her wrists, held both of them in front of her with one of his hands, wrapped an arm around her waist, and hefted her up in one swift movement, wobbling only a bit. He walked to the bed, planted her rear on it, and reached into his nightstand. Next thing she knew, he’d handcuffed her right wrist to the bed frame.
“Gonna keep you here until you give me my kid. Then I’ll think ‘bout letting you go.”
She lay down and reached for him with her free hand. “Thomas…please lay with me.”
His gaze softened but then hardened a second later, the muscle in his jaw jumping. He then slid in bed beside her, slinging one arm around her waist, and the other under her head.
She shifted. Chest to chest, she circled her free arm around his waist. “I love you, Thomas.”
He exhaled heavily then released her, reaching into his nightstand and uncuffing her. “Thought I could, but I can’t. I can’t hurt you even knowing you deserve it.”
Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach, thinking next, he’d kick her out.
“Can’t keep you here if you wanna go. Now’s the time.”
Tiffany shook her head. “I’m not leaving. I want to stay with you.” She said every word with conviction. For reinforcement, she tucked herself closer, rewrapping her arm around his waist.
He hesitated only briefly before snaking his arm around her, pulling her into him, and burying his face in her hair.
A moment later, his breaths slowed. He fell asleep. She fought back tears and prayed when he woke, he wouldn’t remember he wanted to leave her. She prayed he’d forget.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Cuss woke with a throbbing headache. Parting his eyes, his gaze landed on the white walls of his bedroom at the compound. Slowly, flashbacks bombarded him.
He drank a lot. Though that, he didn’t need to remember. The pounding migraine and the smell of alcohol drifting out of his pores was clue enough.
Cuss remembered, remembered Tiffany in his room, remembered her crying, shaking, and pale. He remembered why, too. He said horrible things to her, and the things he accused her of, worse.
Is he mine?
Did you fuck him?
He remembered what she said when she pleaded with him. Had he been sober then, he would’ve believed her, believed every word because of the emotion in her voice, but especially because she was right. She could’ve left, could’ve refused to have his kid. Instead, she stayed. He should’ve believed her because he knew her, knew she was good, sweet, and kind. She’d never betray anyone, least of all him. Still, he doubted her, convinced himself she’d double-crossed him without even asking her.
Bile rising with the knowledge of what a complete asshole he’d been, he swallowed the urge to puke. The th
robbing in his head strengthened with the memories then compounded with a final one. He’d handcuffed her to his bed. He tried to remember past that but couldn’t. Probably blacked out.
He shifted his head. Empty bed. The handcuffs and keys lay on his nightstand. Of course, she found the key, uncuffed herself, and got the hell out of there. After the fucked shit he said and did, why wouldn’t she?
He released a heavy breath, ran his hands through his hair then fisted his palms, pulling the strands in frustration.
Would he ever win her back? Did he even deserve the chance? Why was he such an asshole? Not the first time. It happened every time he thought he was losing her because he was terrified of even the thought—his life without her, but the reason didn’t matter. It didn’t make it right. She deserved the best. He sure as hell wasn’t that, not even close. Knowing it, he had to try to win her back. She had his kid inside her. He wanted his kid to have both parents, but most importantly, he loved her more than life itself and needed to do everything in his power to show her that.
A knock sounded on his door. He cursed, sat up, and strode to it. Parting it, he met Blaze’s gaze.
“Shower, dress, you and me got somewhere to be.”
Firm shake of his head made the headache blinding. “Not today.”
Blaze’s gaze hardened. “Trust me when I say you’re gonna wanna come.”
Through gritted teeth, he reiterated, “Not today—”
“Found out where the ex is staying. You want the truth? Gotta talk to him.”
Shit. Blaze, his brother, was an amazing friend going through all that trouble for him. Heart racing, he grabbed his cut draped over the armoire intent on heading out the door.
Blaze put a hand on his chest. “Brother, we got time, not much, but enough. You need to shower. You smell like you look, and I know you don’t want the ex seeing you like that.”
Valid point. Cuss rushed into his bathroom, taking his clothes off en route, and hopped into the shower. Showered and dressed, he headed downstairs. Though he needed a shave bad, he skipped it. Ten minutes later, he knocked on the ex’s hotel suite.
The ex parted the door a minute later, expressionless. “Say what you came to say, quick. I have a flight to catch.”
Running Hot (Hell Ryders MC Book 2) Page 24
