by Carina Adams
I was being released tomorrow, and I couldn’t wait. Not that it was awful here. I was able to wear my own clothes instead of a hospital gown and the food was more like catered room service than anything. But, I was ready to go home and see my kids.
I’d been allowed to have visitors; hell, I’d had a steady stream of them over the past seven days. My parents had been here when I woke up, my dad crying with relief. Teagan had come and read to me from her gossip magazines every day. At least two Bastards had been here around the clock, barely giving me five minutes to myself, and barged in even when it was just a nightmare making me cry out. Cris, her arm in a sling, had made the trip up twice. Even Will had been wheeled in by a nurse, making me break down when I saw him for the first time and realizing he wasn’t dead. But, the four people I wanted to see most in the world hadn’t come.
Becky, much to my mother’s displeasure, had the kids. Dean was with her. They told me he hadn’t left my kids’ sides through this entire ordeal. He had taken a break once they were back in school and brought me down the get well cards they’d made. He and Bex told them that Will and I had been in a bad car accident and while we were going to be ok, we needed time to heal. I had gotten to talk to them on the phone a few times, but I didn’t want to scare them with my ability to just start crying for no reason.
Even the police had visited me. I’d told them what I could remember. My memory got a little sketchy around the time the Bastards showed up, but I didn’t feel the need to tell them that. I simply explained I couldn’t remember anymore and they didn’t push. I’m sure the fact that Jon Greenwood and Hawk were in my room at the time encouraged the detectives to be gentler than they would normally be.
I didn’t want to discuss what happened, not even with the hospital psychologist. The problem with her was that she was trying to social work the social worker. There’s a reason shrinks don’t go to other shrinks, and it’s not because they don’t need help. It’s because hearing the words you say to clients repeated back to you doesn’t help. I knew what I had to do to heal and that wasn’t going to change because someone else told me to do it.
I moved slightly, sliding my body sideways, and caught the reflection of a man leaning in my doorway behind me. I whirled, seeing the face I’d missed dreadfully. “Matty.” He didn’t move, just raked his eyes over me. “How long have you been there?”
He shifted, standing up and stepping into the room, shutting the door behind him. His body was tense, and he seemed like he was going to come to me, but then he stopped himself. Crossing his arms over his chest and demanding, “What the fuck were you thinking, Jo?”
His tone didn’t surprise me. I’d known his first words to me were going to be something like that. He was still Matty, after all. Cris had explained that her brother stayed at my bedside until they knew I was ok, and then he’d camped out in the waiting room ever since, wanting to be close but needing space. She’d promised Matty just needed some time, that he was pissed with himself, but that he’d come to me when he was ready.
Cris hadn’t needed to justify it. Most of Matty might be a mystery to me lately, but there were still parts of him I knew better than I knew myself. First, he’d be beating himself up, focusing on the worst-case scenario, the ‘what could have happened,’ instead of on the positive. Next, he’d get angry at everyone else. Finally, he’d be sad. Usually he’d let me in, and I could help transition him through the phases. He could be as angry with me as he needed to be, because it meant that he was here and that he’d finally moved on to the second stage of healing.
He looked as bad as I did, and a hell of a lot worse than I felt. His clothes were clean but wrinkled, as if he’d been sleeping in them for days. His hair was disheveled, and he was working on a full beard. I desperately wanted him to come hold me. Knowing he wasn’t ready, I offered him a smile. “Are you ok?”
“You don’t want me to answer that right now.” He started to pace, finally stopping in front of one of the chairs and dropping into it, one leg bouncing repeatedly. “I wanna know what thoughts passed through that brain of yours that made you think going somewhere alone with a sociopath was a good idea.”
I hobbled to the other chair and eased myself down. My body was healing fine, but some of the bandages that covered my wounds pulled at my skin when I moved just right. I sighed. I knew the answer because I’d asked myself the same question a thousand times, yet no one else had asked me. Not even the detectives.
I swallowed, trying to get the lump to go down. “I was thinking I’d heard the screams of that monster torturing them for hours on end. I was thinking that I’d just seen a woman shot in the face. The face, Matty!” I closed my eyes, willing images of happier times to replace those from that night.
“I was thinking that I was tied to a chair and forced to watch as they beat Taylor, even though she was already hurt and didn’t have much fight left. I was thinking that Jessie was so terrified she was shaking.” I opened my eyes, but I couldn’t look at him, so I focused on the worn grey tiles on the floor, pushing my hands into my stomach to help ease the butterflies that had taken up permanent residence.
“I was thinking that a sadistic fuck was coming after her with a blowtorch, probably not for the first time, and that I couldn’t sit there and do nothing.” I didn’t realize I was crying until the tears fell on my hands like rain drops. I swiped at my face, and my voice broke. “I was thinking that he was just going to keep hurting us if I didn’t do something. I was thinking it was my only chance to save us. I was thinking that you would risk your life to save them, so why shouldn’t I?”
“Joes.” Matty’s voice was soft, suddenly full of unbridled emotion.
I didn’t stop. “If you’re asking if I thought about you, the answer is yes. I thought about how much the idea of never seeing you again terrified me. I thought about how if I could just give them a little while longer that you would find them, because you would move Heaven and Earth to get to me.” I swallowed painfully and tucked my hair behind my ear before I brought my eyes back to his. “I thought about you every time I closed my eyes, praying you’d come rescue me, because I wanted you to tell me you loved me one more time. I know I scared you, Matty. But, I didn’t do it to hurt you.”
He sat forward putting his elbows on his thighs, halting his restless leg, and rubbed his palms together. “I can’t begin to tell you…” He stopped, looking at the window. Silence surrounded us, but I refused to prompt him. He needed to say whatever was on his mind and he needed to do it in his own time.
After what felt like ages, his eyes turned back to me. “Before we talk about anything else,” he started slowly, “I need to know about Lily.” He wet his lips. “I immediately wanted to dismiss it, to think that you were just using what you could to get him to take you out of that warehouse. But, Taylor told me there was no way you were lying, that she could see the truth on your face. I can’t stop thinking about it. Once I knew you were going to be ok, that I wasn’t going to lose…” he trailed off and blew out a deep breath. His eyes filled with tears and I had to fight the urge to run to him. When he spoke again, his voice was a hoarse whisper. “I looked at the calendar, Jo.”
I raised my eyebrows in confusion and then vaguely remembered worrying about this exact thing before I was taken to the camp. It seemed like a lifetime ago and I hadn’t thought about it since. I did need to apologize for lying, but when I opened my mouth, he cut me off. “Lily came early—thirty eight weeks. At least, that’s what you told us. Say she didn’t come early, and you count back forty weeks, and you know what I found? You end up right around the time you came to my hotel room and stayed after Becky kicked me out.” I shook my head, but he continued anyway. “I know I was out of it, that I said and did a fuck ton of terrible shit that week. I’ve wracked my brain for days, trying to piece together the timeline, trying to remember anything that would tell me we slept together.”
I shook my head again, cutting off any further argument from him. “Yo
u won’t remember something that didn’t happen.” I adjusted slightly in my chair, trying to relieve some of the pressure from my ribs. “I would never have kept your daughter a secret from you while letting you be an adoring uncle, Matty. How could you think that?”
He raised an eyebrow and gave me a cold stare. “You had me help name her! You talked me into going to ultrasounds whenever Billy couldn’t make it! You made sure you showed me videos of every one of her firsts and invited me to every party, play, and school event. You had me involved just enough so that I would never miss anything. Why would you do that if it wasn’t true?”
“Because you’re my best friend! Because you were fucking struggling and needed something to distract you. Because you’re her Godfather and it’s your job to be involved! Do you really think I’d keep something that important from you?” He shrugged as if he had no doubt I would exactly do just that.
“I don’t know what to think, Joes.”
I was too tired to deal with this Matty and this right issue right now. “Think I loved you enough to concoct a lie I thought I could sell, no matter how wild it was, just so I could see you again. Think Taylor is a bitch that likes to cause drama for you and me every chance she gets. I helped save her life. You’d think that’d get me a little bit of a break!” I snapped.
Matty chuckled at that and the sound surprised me. “She is a bitch that likes to cause drama. But, she was only trying to stop you because she thought you were telling the truth. She knew that if our daughter was taken, the Bastards wouldn’t stop until we got her back.”
“You weren’t going to stop until you got me back!” I bit out. “I knew that. I needed to buy you some time. That’s why I lied. So, what’s the difference?”
“Because in her mind, Bear wouldn’t risk his life to save you. But, he would do whatever it took to get Lily back.”
“Bear? What? Why in the hell does she care what he does?”
“Apparently they’re together.”
“What?” I stared at him in disbelief. I just couldn’t picture the young man I adored sleeping with Taylor. Ellie was sweet, innocent, and kind. Everything that Taylor wasn’t. How in the hell had that happened? Apparently the world really had gone crazy. I lifted my hands and scrubbed gently at my face.
The sound that came out of Matty was something a wounded animal would make. I jerked my hands away in surprise, looking to see what was wrong. He was staring at me. I’d forgotten I had on a tank top and when I’d lifted my arms without thinking, he’d seen the marks. I lowered them as fast as I could, bringing up my hands to hug myself, covering what I could. They didn’t hurt anymore, and I forgot they were there because I didn’t have to look at them.
Matty pushed out of the chair, falling to his knees in front of me, putting his hands on the arms of the chair, boxing me in. Bending over a little, he leaned down so we were eye to eye. “I would give anything to take away what you went through, anything to make it all just a bad dream.”
“I know, baby.” I lifted my hands to his cheeks and moved my thumbs over his whiskers. I don’t think he’d shaved since the day I was taken. “But, I’m ok. I’m alive. I’m right here,” I whispered, trying to soothe him, seeing the sadness in his eyes.
“What can I do to make it better? Tell me what you need and whatever it is, I’ll get it.”
“I need you, Matty. Just you. Tell me we’re ok.” He pulled back a little, surprised. He swallowed as his eyes moved over my face, taking in the stitches over my eyebrow, the split lip, the swollen cheek, and the bruised chin before drifting lower. His growl told me he was seeing the light gray and green handprints wrapping around my neck that hadn’t quite faded completely. Then the baby blues I loved moved lower, over my chest and down my arms, stopping often, as if cataloging each mark and every contusion.
I’d seen my reflection and knew how bad it was. But, I needed him to look past the image in front of him, to see me. I wasn’t a client or a job. I wasn’t someone that he needed to feel guilt over. I needed him to see me; to remember that it was me in here.
“Kiss me, Matty. Make me forget.”
His eyes snapped back to mine and he shook his head once. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Matty, so help me God, if you don’t—” His mouth fell on mine, gently. After a minute, his arms came around me.
He moved back slightly, sliding his face to my neck but not loosening the grip he had on my body. “I was so scared, Joes. I’ve never felt like that in my life. He hurt you because of me, and…” he broke off, crying soundlessly. Every so often, he would babble, apologizing for putting me in that spot, vowing to never let anyone hurt me again, or just to tell me he loved me.
I let him cry, running my hands over his head and back, whispering words when I could, assuring him it wasn’t his fault, promising him that I didn’t blame him. A nurse peeked in at one point, but I waved her away. Matty and I needed this moment, because without it, we would never heal. My funny, caring friend needed reassurance that I was ok, that I was still here with him. My scary, commanding biker needed to release the tension and fear he’d been carrying around. I was going to do what I did best, sit here and hold him, loving him until the end.
Chapter 38
Jo
I could see him watching me out of the corner of my eye, but kept reading. We’d been playing this game for a solid twenty minutes. He’d stop what he was doing and stare at me, I’d glance over at him, and he’d quickly look back at the paper in front of him. I finished the article and turned the page of the Martha Stewart Weddings magazine Jessie had picked up for me. This time, though, I just skimmed the pictures of a beautiful reception.
Not being able to take it anymore, I laughed but didn’t look up. “Why are you staring at me?”
“I’m not.” I lifted my eyes to his, catching him in the act. Matty only smirked. “Maybe I was.”
“Mmhhmm.” I nodded, scowling at him. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head, but winked. “Can’t a man stare at a beautiful woman?”
I wanted to roll my eyes, or point out that I was wearing a pair of his old sweats that were three sizes too big for me and stained with God knows what, or bring attention to the fact that my face still looked like I’d been used as a human piñata and I hadn’t washed my hair with anything but dry shampoo in the last three weeks, but, instead, I tipped my head and smiled. He always knew the right thing to say to diffuse my irritation. “Well, you’d better enjoy the view while you can. I’m getting married soon, and my husband is tad bit possessive.”
“No!” He grabbed his chest playfully. “You can’t marry him! I won’t let you.” He stood abruptly, moving from his chair to the loveseat where I was stretched out, picking my feet up, sliding under them, and putting them on his lap as he sat. He didn’t move his hands, though, and they massaged my calves absentmindedly. “What’s he have that I don’t?”
I raised one eyebrow, playing along. “A better taste in music. He knows Modest Mouse and Green Day are so yesterday. ”
“Now, that’s just mean.” The hands on my legs slid to my feet and started to tickle. My magazine fell to the floor as I thrashed against him, giggling uncontrollably. He was laughing and saying, “Tickle, tickle, tickle,” in a high pitched voice that made the whole thing even more amusing, and I was certain I was going to pee my pants before he let me go.
The thought immediately generated memories of Jessie, and I felt my face fall as my heart started to pound. I recovered, but not quickly enough. Matty pulled his hands away from my feet, sat up a little, and in one simple move, transferred me so that I was straddling his lap, his hands limp by his sides. This was our ‘safe zone’.
Over the last couple of weeks, we’d discovered that certain situations brought me back to the camp. When I’d been discharged, the Dr. and the psychologist had both explained the effects of PTSD to us. I’d laughed it off, telling them I was educated enough to know all about post-traumatic stress and that I wa
s fine. For the most part, I was.
However, there were times that my anxiety hit or panic set in. The hardest part for Matty was that we never knew what would prompt an attack. Once it was something as simple as him rushing through the bedroom door, late to a meeting. I’d been on the other side of the room, but it wasn’t Matty I’d seen, it was Thing two. I’d collapsed into a fit of tears, terrifying poor Matty, and embarrassing myself. Another time it had been the smell of Tank’s cigarette, which he’d immediately thrown over the edge of the balcony and then spent twenty minutes holding me while I sobbed into his neck.
Matty had been so sure that physical contact would be a trigger, but we’d avoided that bomb so far. In his arms, I was safe and felt protected. Even so, whenever I had an episode, he very quickly became submissive, making sure I knew on every level that I controlled our contact. We would go as slow and as easy as I wanted, and he would be right there, supporting me but not pushing.
Which is exactly why he pulled me onto his lap and wasn’t touching me. When I was on top of him, I could get up and leave anytime I wanted. I was not a prisoner here, no one was going to hurt me. The sweet gesture brought tears to my eyes. This man was trying so hard to make everything ok, to let me know that he was here and give me whatever I needed. And I loved him ever more for it, even though I never would have imagined that being possible.
I moved my body closer to his and leaned down to kiss the little patch of hair below his bottom lip. I heard him swallow and moved my lips up onto his. He sighed but didn’t move his hands from the cushions. I sat up, intending to smile down at him, but lost my train of thought when I felt his reaction to my closeness. He was hard as a rock beneath me.
We hadn’t been intimate yet. My body had been too sore to do much more than walk from one chair to the other at first, and then I’d been very aware of how I still looked. It wasn’t that I wasn’t physically ready, because I was, even though my Dr. hadn’t given me the green light yet. No, it was Matty that was holding us back from crossing that line. He hadn’t even attempted to do anything more than kiss me.
