Enough

by Jade Chandler

  I knew I needed to let it go, but she had to understand because I never wanted that gut-wrenching dread stalking me again.

  She winced, but didn’t speak.

  “You can’t do that shit to me. Promise me, never do it again.” I tilted her chin to meet my gaze.

  She dipped her head. Minutes passed and she was so quiet I thought she’d gone to sleep in my arms, but then she snapped up her head, looking directly at me.

  “What exactly am I promising? Never worry you, never act without calling you for approval, never call without leaving a voice mail?” While exhaustion lined her features, fire shot through her expression. “What’s my crime?”

  Where did this come from? We’d been so close to ending our fight, now she gave me attitude.

  “Red, don’t start with me.” I growled the words.

  She popped off my lap and paced the apartment. “Or what? You’ll hit me like my dad? You’ll belittle me in front of our friends?” She turned and pointed at me. “But then you already did. Or will you walk away from me? Tell me, Dare. I don’t do vague threats.”

  “You’re winding me up again.” My own anger boiled up.

  “No, you’re doing it.” She turned to me. “Stop blaming me for your hang-ups. Own them, whatever they are.”

  What the hell did she mean? This wasn’t about me.

  “You screwed up,” I shouted at her. She had screwed up, not me.

  “And I apologized.” She threw her hands in the air. “But you need more blood from me. I’m bled out.” She walked over to the door and held it open. “I don’t remember your apology.”

  I opened my mouth, then shut it again before stomping out of the apartment. I rode my bike for hours again, turning the conversation over in my head, not sure where we’d gone off the path. One minute we were making up and the next she was yelling, I was yelling, and we were both as raw as we’d been yesterday afternoon.

  Shit. I didn’t do dramatic, and I didn’t argue, or ever apologize, especially when I’m not wrong.

  Tomorrow we’d both be cooled down enough to put this in the past.

  I parked at the club when the other half of the conversation hit me. Own your hang-ups, whatever they are. At the time I’d been focused on the apology she thought I owed her. Now, I considered her words another way.

  Did she know? No way, if she knew about my stupidity, she wouldn’t even want me back. Were we apart? I should walk away, but I was too weak. The idea of giving up Red—it made my chest burn. No, she’d see it my way.

  Chapter Twenty-Four: Lila

  Wednesday dawned and dread settled in me. With no word from Dare last night after our fight, cooking the club breakfast felt more like punishment instead of pleasure.

  Will he be there? Are we done?

  I’d slept eight hours of the last forty-eight and cried too much. I spent my days vacillating between outrage and despair. I loved him, but he didn’t trust me, let alone love me.

  Since my mother died, not a single person I loved had loved me back.

  I never learned. I continued to be punished for loving someone too broken to love. He didn’t read very well, or he had other issues. But didn’t we all? No one escaped life without scars.

  I dragged my sorry ass out of bed and tied my hair back. I washed my face and brushed my teeth. I’d tried to cover up the worst of my red-eyed sorrow at work, but this morning I didn’t care.

  I’d charged my phone, but I wasn’t answering it because Dare didn’t call or answer my calls. And I didn’t want to talk to anyone else.

  At the club, I dove into cooking—the first escape I’d found. I stirred batter and jammed to the tunes blaring in my ears. I jumped when a hand settled on my back. I turned off the music and stared at MJ.

  “You look like shit.” She moved in like she’d hug me.

  I held my hands up, stopping her.

  “Want me to finish?” The pity in her expression hurt the worst.

  “Am I not welcome?” It took my last reserve of strength to ask.

  “Always, even if he doesn’t get his head out of his ass.” MJ smiled at me. “Hang tough, it’ll work out.”

  I snorted and returned to mixing batter. My escape ended once it was time to set up in front. I sucked in a fortifying breath, held my head up and pushed through the door. I kept my gaze averted from Jericho’s table but Dare’s laugh reached my ears. I moved on and did the work. I’d hidden physical bruises for years, but they didn’t hurt a fraction of the emotional wound eating me from the inside out. Once I called for breakfast, I returned to the kitchen, determined to clean up and open the shop.

  I restocked the counter and ignored the gazes following me. Let them stare.

  What did it matter? Nothing mattered anymore.

  I attacked the dishes, needing something to distract me from my own sadness. Unfortunately, dishes gave me entirely too much time to think. And my mind revolved on a one-track circuit—Dare.

  The kitchen door swung open, and I kept working not wanting to chat with whoever came inside.

  “Red.”

  His voice froze me, and tears leaked from my eyes. I wiped my hands on the towel and slowly turned to him. My gaze darted from ovens to refrigerators, unable to settle on the man across from me. Pain grew with every glimpse of him. He’d wrapped himself in anger, and I couldn’t see how this ended without me driving away from Barden, my SUV packed, starting over, again.

  “You get me, yet?”

  He meant, You punished enough, yet? You suffered enough, yet? Do you know your place, yet?

  I dropped to my knees, hands behind my back, gaze lowered to the ground. I’d heard the guys talking about the submissive pose. This is what he needed to feel like a man again.

  “I guess you got it.” Satisfaction blended with his words.

  “Yes, master.” I spoke to the floor.

  “Enough, Red. Stand up.”

  I stood.

  “Look at me.”

  I did with tears streaming down my face. My father’s fists hadn’t caused me to cry, but now I couldn’t stop crying. I loved him so much, but this might be more than I had in me.

  “Stop it.”

  I stared at him.

  “Red.” His voice broke.

  “May I speak, master?”

  “Quit acting like a sub. What are you doing?”

  “Giving you what you need.” My tears choked the words.

  He stepped back. “I don’t need this.”

  “You enjoyed punishing me. Putting me in my place.” I spoke to the floor. My love couldn’t keep my soul from shriveling at this sacrifice.

  “That’s not—”

  “You tell yourself it’s teaching me a lesson, whatever. Different words for punishing me.” My words soft, the weight of what was coming pushed me low. I folded in on myself until I knelt on the floor again, head bowed.

  He turned away from me. “Stop, I don’t want you like this.”

  My world disintegrated. I’d sacrificed all I could, and I wasn’t enough. “Just say the word.”

  He shook his head, his back rigid with tension. I gave him the only thing I had left. One final gift. “Then I’ll say it.”

  For him, I’d do anything, be anything, and say anything. Burned out from the hurt, the rage and the sadness, I knew what needed to be done. I loved him so much I’d say it for him. We’d agreed on the word that ended our ride—enough. If I wasn’t enough, then he deserved his freedom.

  “Enough.” The word echoed in the silent kitchen.

  I refused to let us suffer, I’d cut parts of me off before to survive. I’d survive his loss too.

  Dare’s boots echoed on the tile floor. The door squeaked as he passed through it and out of my life. Tears streamed dow
n my face, but I held the sobs back. Grief weighed me down and I used my remaining bit of strength to push myself to standing.

  Dare walked out of my life.

  No. No thinking of him.

  I grabbed my purse and walked to my car. I’d given more and more, even my independence because I loved him, but giving him freedom chained my heart in sorrow.

  I started my car and drove away from the club. The numb detachment melted away, leaving a gaping hole where pain poured out in a gushing flow. If this were a physical wound, I’d be dead.

  About a mile down the road, tears obscured my vision so I pulled to the side letting my grief pour out as racking sobs. My phone pinged but I ignored it. Eventually my tears ran out, but they’d be back.

  I dug in my bag for tissues to blow my nose. My head throbbed and I couldn’t face the chore ahead of me—starting over sucked.

  I grabbed my phone and read the text from Zayn. Take the day off. I have it covered. Dare won’t be in this week.

  I stared at the utilitarian words. A manic laugh bubbled in me, but I didn’t let it escape. I feared another torrent of tears. Did it mean I had the week to clear out?

  I typed a single letter.

  K

  And hit Send.

  I restarted my car and headed home. I don’t remember the drive or the walk up my stairs, but I ended up in bed with the covers pulled over my head.

  * * *

  The ring of my phone woke me slowly. I had a vague feeling it’d been ringing for a while. I stretched and grabbed it, afraid to even hope it’d be Dare. It wasn’t so I let it go to voice mail. I flipped to missed calls—seven, all from Jericho. My phone rang again. I swiped Answer. “What the fuck?”

  “Good morning, sunshine.” Jericho’s cheery voice grated on my nerves as I’m sure he’d intended. “I’m heading out with my guys for two weeks—shop’s closed. You be ready to report for work when we get back.”

  “Wha...” Questions swirled too fast in my mind to speak. “I have...”

  “I gotta jet, get your shit together, we’ll be back in two weeks—you staying.”

  “Is that a question?” I huffed.

  “Nope, a command.” He hung up. The freaking frustrating idiot hung up on me.

  Now what do I do? Work was out, and I didn’t have many friends—okay I had one friend, but I was in no way ready to deal with Rachel or anyone, really. I trudged back to bed and decided to worry about it another day.

  Lying in bed and eating chocolate lasted two days. By Saturday night, my bed had become like a prison. Tomorrow morning, I would get a life. This was new territory—breaking up without running away.

  Sunday I woke up before eight in the morning, unable to sleep longer. The shower haunted me as memories of Dare and me flashed in my mind. I forced myself not to rush through my shower. His presence marked my apartment, making me cringe with memories of what I lost and how lonely I was now. My bed was my only refuge, his scent and our memories mixed to comfort me, and I could almost pretend he was away on club business instead of gone forever.

  I dried off and wrapped the towel around me. Picking out clothes had been too hard before the shower.

  “Glad I didn’t have to drag you outta bed.” MJ sat on my couch with coffee in her hand.

  I startled but didn’t drop my towel. I needed better locks.

  I strode past her and into my bedroom for clothes because talking to her in a towel wasn’t an option. After I’d dressed in a shirt and jeans, I joined her in my living room. The pain in my chest had become a dull ache, always present, but it didn’t double me over at the moment.

  “He’s a goddam idiot.” MJ handed me coffee.

  “He’s not a topic I’m discussing with you.” The edge I teetered on would crumble if I did a replay.

  “Everyone else is talking about it.” MJ stared me down.

  I looked away. “Go talk to them.”

  “I have been, but now it’s time for you to get back on the saddle.”

  She didn’t just say that?

  “Rock and Rebel both like you. Some other guys, but not Jericho.” She sounded forlorn ruling her son out.

  “He’s Dare’s best friend. And hell no.” Saying his name caused a stabbing pain where my heart used to be.

  “He needs an old lady.” She grumped, frowning at her coffee. “And you an old man.”

  “MJ.” I waited until she met my gaze. “Back the fuck off. I’m not some piece of meat to be passed around. Don’t talk to me about who to date again.” This time she looked away from my hard stare.

  “I promised...” Her face crumpled.

  “I know you’re trying to help, but this isn’t it.” I needed to get my priorities in order. “Do you want me to stop cooking?”

  “No, do you?”

  “I’m good.”

  “I’ve been meaning to talk with you about this, and now, well it’s awkward.”

  I needed her to say it and get out of the apartment before my resolve to leave dissolved.

  “In our club, Mama is a title of honor.” A wistful smile flashed and disappeared. “And not because it’s part of my nickname. Guys use it as a way to thank someone, but until you, they didn’t use it all the time for any one old lady or girl. It’s your nickname, and that’s big. Huge. When the Old Man retires, the club will need your influence, they’ve picked you, with or without Dare.”

  I blinked away the tears that his name brought to my eyes.

  “I’ve heard those boys saying it even after Dare screwed the pooch. It’s not because you’re with him.” She sighed and for the first time MJ appeared old to me. “Speaking of the club, while Jericho and several of them are gone, some may try and poach you, whether you’re willing or not.”

  Shit. The hits just keep coming.

  “I’ll stay off the radar.” I had no desire to see any of the bikers.

  “Girl, you light up anywhere you are. No, you use Rock or Bear, both stayed behind.”

  I wanted to punch something. I finally had no desire to run to another man, and now I needed protection. Rock wasn’t an option. He had a thing for me, and I never would for him.

  “You got Bear’s number? He might need a heads-up.”

  MJ wrote the number down for me. She stood and started to speak, but instead shook her head and left.

  I texted Bear. Can I be your property for a couple weeks?

  He responded in seconds. As long as I don’t have to fuck you.

  I put my hand over my mouth trying to swallow the laugh. I typed my response. That’s what I plan to avoid.

  Sure, Mama. I’ll bash heads for you. He obviously understood the situation better than me. It never occurred to me my opinion might not matter.

  Thanks. I figured he stayed behind because of a lover. Biker work ethic wasn’t that strong. So I typed, Introduce me to the guy.

  The fuck? Don’t answer. He wasn’t so hard to figure out once I dug under his prickly defenses.

  I styled my hair and applied makeup for the first time in almost a week, and a bud of optimism shot through me.

  I decided to distract myself by shopping. I had extra money in the bank, so I called Rachel. When she didn’t answer I remembered she and her girl were gone this week to Vegas. So much for my plan for Rachel to divert me.

  I bit my lip as memories of Dare zipped through my mind. I stood still and focused on my white walls until the memories had been shoved behind the locked door where all my other nightmares lived.

  “No.” I shouted the word in my empty apartment. The memory dissolved, and I tasted blood from where I’d bitten my lip. Pain ricocheted through me until I longed to curl up, but I didn’t. I was done with that.

  I started on Main Street, needing to meet the shop’s neighbors before ven
turing further. After three shops, I had to lug my purchases back to my apartment. I’d bought a new lamp, a soft sofa blanket and a new set of plates. I decided to start across the street at the boutique on my second trip. I’d only been in that one time, but pretty clothes sounded perfect and I hadn’t stopped by Black Label since my lunch with Andi.

  The door jingled when I walked in. The smell of polished leather hung in the air. Around me were racks of clothes that instantly made me drool.

  “Can I help you?” A short girl with a pixie cut dyed teal smiled up at me. “Hey, great to see you again.”

  I sorted through a rack of tanks and halters on clearance, picking out five. I laid them on the counter.

  “You’re dating the sexy one, Dare?”

  And like that, the pain I ignored almost brought me to my knees.

  “What? You okay? Did I say the wrong thing?” She squeezed my arm. “I don’t filter, all my friends say so.”

  And before I knew what was happening, the story poured out of me. A condensed version, but it felt good to say it aloud.

  “Sucks a big one.” She patted my back. “You gotta come out with us tonight. Like six of us are getting together to drink and dance. Cut loose. Get fucked up.”

  It sounded fun, but crawling back into bed sounded better. “I don’t drink.”

  “Hell yeah, another sober one to celebrate with me.” She winked at me. “Two drinks and I pass out, so I gave it up.” Her easy humor and energy were contagious.

  I pushed back the pain. “Okay, but you have to help me find an outfit for dancing. I need new memories.”

  I spent two hours in the shop trying on clothes before I settled on an outfit for the night at Blue’s Tavern. I hauled my two bags of new clothes back home and decided on a nap. Functioning as a human required too much energy.

  At six I ate grilled cheese before I started getting ready to go out. I changed my mind a thousand times as I did my hair and touched up my makeup. I stared at the smiling girl in the mirror who wore a flirty flared miniskirt that hit midthigh and a tank with a shredded back. I decided a bra ruined the effect, and went without.

  I was sick of the rules.

  After a second look, I applied the nipple stickers. The stickers hid the jutting point of my nipples, so I wouldn’t poke out eyes.