Beyond Her Words (Corrupt Chaos MC)

by Bink Cummings

“Ye know what, lassie?” Derision drips from his lips like rich, golden honey, and then his grin broadens, flashing a sliver of teeth. “I liked ye much better when ye couldn’t talk.”

  He can’t mean that. Can he?

  Puffing up his chest, he goads me with his eyes and stance, wanting to see if I’ll retaliate. If I’ll fight.

  I could run and let the part of me that wants to cry myself to sleep do just that. Or, I can stick it out and battle him. However, that small part of me that I have to hold on tight to; it knows that this will end up a slaughterhouse by the time we’re finished. Me, being the stuck pig writhing on the floor in a pile of my entrails, as the butcher stands above me in victory. I’m not saying we’d kill each other. But I am saying that if things were to come to a head, it wouldn’t be pretty. I’d end up broken all over again. I don’t know if I have it in me to endure another blow. Not now, and certainly not from him.

  So that leaves me with one final option—to walk. To treat him like he’s been treating me, by distancing myself and not speaking to him. Maybe he needs to be treated like a child and taught a lesson for talking to me like I’m nothing, like I’m lesser than him—pond scum. If I’d done something to warrant his contempt then I’d apologize. But I’ve done nothing of the sort. All I’ve done is care, and that’s not a crime in my book. Is it in yours?

  Ignoring the tightness in my chest, and my sour stomach, I pretend his words have no effect on me. Holding my head up high, my back straight, I drop my hands loosely at my sides to appear as if I don’t care, even if it’s killing me inside.

  “Fine, Lachlan.” I take a step toward the door, my eyes still on his, my expression neutral. “If you don’t like me now that I can talk, then I won’t be talking to you. It will save us both a lot of grief, now that I’m aware of your problems with my speech. So please excuse me as I head to bed, and I hope you have a fantastic evening.” You beautiful, broken lughead, I tack on in silence as I leisurely stride out of the barn door and up the incline. Once I reach the porch, I feel my resistance dissolve and those tears that I prayed would stay away, don’t.

  The first tear falls when my hand grips the door handle and turns. The next when I close the door behind me. I swipe them away with the back of my hand, and inhale a deep breath to keep from dashing to my bedroom and slamming the door shut. I don’t know where Lachlan is, and I can’t let my guard down just yet. Five more steps and my legs feel like lead weights. Only five more to the bedroom door, and it feels like I’m drowning from the pressure that’s painfully squeezing my chest.

  I make my way into my bedroom and gently shut the door behind me. Pirate perks his lazy head off my pillow with his own doggy smile. Normally, that would make everything else in the world feel a little bit brighter. Unfortunately, right now, nothing can fix this. Nothing but a lot of time, patience, and perseverance. I know I can do this. I know I can prove that I’m strong and caring, and that Mags won’t be someone’s punching bag. Maybe he’ll miss me. Maybe he’ll learn the lesson I hope is the right one. Or, maybe I further damage an already damaged man. Maybe, he won’t care that I’m speaking to him or not, and actually take joy in the silence.

  Frickity-flippin’-fudge toads, I don’t freaking know. I don’t know anything. Why can’t life be simple?

  Shaking my head, I strip my clothes off and lay them in a pile on the floor. Not even bothering to don pajamas, I finish tossing my bra into the pile and slip under the covers next to Pirate, wearing my panties. Pirate crawls closer, shoving his nose in my neck, and that’s what undoes me. I wrap my arm around him, bury my face in his fur, and sob. Sob, until his fur sticks to my face. Sob, until I’m so emotionally tattered that I pass out with the light still on.

  As grams always used to say, “Tomorrow’s another day for a fresh start.”

  Goodnight.

  “How are you feeling?” Bonez offers me his hand and gently tugs me from his chiropractic table onto my feet.

  Shaking out my arms and legs, I twist my head a few times, and then release a marvelous sigh of total body relaxation. I feel lighter than air, and it couldn’t have come at a better time. “I feel. . .I feel muuucchhh better. Thank you.” I grin slightly.

  Bonez smiles, delighted at my reaction, and flashes me all of those perfect teeth; even his eyes light up. He must take real pleasure from helping his patients, and that’s a welcomed bonus. “I’m happy to hear that. When you came in, I wasn’t sure if we could work all that tension out. Damn happy we could. How’s the leg?” With the flick of his chin, he indicates to it, and I lift, bending at the knee. It feels a hundred times better already; a lot less stiffness and pain.

  I set it back on the floor. “It’s a lot better.”

  Together, we walk in silence to the front door of his business. I stop to turn around. Then, suddenly, I’m plastered to his front. I bark out a startled laugh, and his hands shoot to my waist, holding me steady. “Whoa there.” He smiles down at me as I tilt my head back to see his face. It’s such a handsome face, too. Hard and beautiful, but soft and friendly around his eyes. I’m not sure how old he is, but if I had to guess, it’d say around Lachlan’s age.

  “Maggie, are you all right?” He yanks me from my dazed stare.

  Dagnabbit! I promise I can’t help it. I’m halfway between deliciously relaxed and asleep. Spending two and a half hours here with Bonez did that. Those magical hands of his did that.

  Shaking my head to clear it, I break from his arms and take a step back, and he lets me. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m kind of tired, because your hands are sort of amazing.” It just kind of slips out before I can swallow my stupid word vomit, and he grins huge at the compliment, while I turn beet red. Why can’t I act normal? Uh!

  “Why don’t I take you down to Muzzie’s?” Bonez opens the front door, spins me around, and places his hand on my lower back as he propels me forward. “I’ll be back, Rita. Cancel my next two appointments!” he yells to his receptionist, and then we’re off. I don’t argue, because I’m not sure what we’re doing, or why he’s strolling with me down the sidewalk with his hand touching me in a place that’s making me feel weird.

  At the corner, we stop and Bonez pulls out a plastic chair in front of a quaint little shop with green and white striped awnings. “Here. We’ll drink outside.” He sweeps his hand to the seat, and I plop down, still unable to process what in the heck just happened. Did he just ask me for coffee? Is that what Muzzie’s is?

  Bonez takes the seat opposite me just as a petite waitress, with a pile of black hair tied on top of her head, exits the shop. She stops at our table, and her smile dazzles when she addresses him. “Hey, Bonez. The usual?” I swear she sways in his direction like there’s some magnetic pull. Sadly, he seems none the wiser.

  “Sure.” He nods before cutting his gaze to me, his tone softening. “What would you like, babe?”

  Whoa! He just called me babe! I’m not sure if I’m going to throw up or blush. The heating of my cheeks radiates like fire. Bonez seems pleased with my reaction, when his eyes stay glued to my face, ignoring our waitress, who doesn’t like her attention stolen. I can tell. She’s staring daggers at me right now, probably wishing for my untimely death.

  “I’ll. . .” Nervously tumbling my hands in my lap, I clear my throat and glance up to the waitress. “I’ll have a lemonade.”

  “We don’t do lemonade. If you want lemonade, go to Whisky’s, where you belong,” the waitress snaps, and Bonez comes off his seat, literally. Stepping into her space, she backs up, visibly gulping.

  “Tina, Terri, Tonya—whatever the fuck your name is,” he flicks his hand out like he doesn’t care, “I know we had a good time six months ago. I know I fucked ya real good. . .Made ya come. . .But that’s all it was. That’s all it was ever gonna be. I told you that shit then, when you came home with me. And I’m telling ya the same shit now.”

  Attentively, she nods her understanding, her bottom lip stuck between her front teeth, biting hard.

 
He’s not finished. “I get that chicks don’t like to see a man they’ve fucked sitting with an even hotter lady. But you don’t fuckin’ talk to my family like that. Do you need to write that shit down?”

  She shakes her head.

  I can’t believe this is happening. . .He called me hot, and told her I’m his family.

  My blush intensifies.

  “Good,” he clips. “Now, get me my coffee and Maggie whatever the fuck she wants. If you don’t do lemonade then make some, or you go to Whisky’s and bring it back. We’re having drinks here, and you’re gonna serve us with a little respect. Ya got me?”

  The waitress doesn’t reply before she races back inside. Bonez retakes his seat, all of that anger displaced. Poof—gone, floating in thin air. “Sorry about that,” he apologizes.

  “It’s okay. She was kinda rude. I’ve just never had someone. . .um. . . .”

  “Someone, what?” he prompts, casually leaning back in his chair.

  “Stand up for me like that.” It’s true, nobody has.

  Apparently, he finds this funny when he starts to laugh, his body actually vibrating with humor.

  “You live with Smoke,” he snickers, calming from the hilarity of whatever it is I said. I’m not sure how that has anything to do with this. I go to ask, but stop when he carries on. “Smoke’s an asshole to everyone.”

  He doesn’t seem bothered by this, and I agree with him one hundred percent. He was definitely a jerk to me last night. Good thing Bridget woke me up this morning as soon as he’d gone to the barn to workout, or do, you know. . .other horrific things. Anyhow, she’d told me to drive her to school so I could keep the SUV. She didn’t want her dad to find out and make her drive it instead, and I didn’t want him to do that either, because I wouldn’t have come to my physical therapy today if that meant Lachlan would have to bring me. I’d rather eat nails then do that.

  So I’d gotten dressed, went downstairs with her, and we’d snuck out of the back just in time for me to catch him staring in the review mirror as we drove away. Lachlan didn’t look pleased, which pleased me to no end. Check—one point for Magdalene.

  “Yeah, he’s one of those,” I agree, leaning back in my own chair, even though I’m too tense, thanks to the waitress’s foul attitude.

  And here I was, rather enjoying the relaxation high following an hour of workout and stretches with Bonez. Afterward, I’d gotten a one hour massage—my first one ever. I was naked, yet, covered with a sheet. Thought I might die of sheer embarrassment, although, surprisingly enough, spending two minutes with his thick fingers kneading my neck and I was putty in his hands. I didn’t care one bit. He left me to dress when he’d finished, and then I’d gotten my chiropractic adjustment in the main part of his offices.

  Bonez stops laughing, but is still smiling when he says, “Not to you, he’s not.”

  I gasp aloud that he could even believe that. Sure, he’s a butt munch to me, too. “He is too,” I debate, childishly. “He was rude to me last night. He said some very mean stuff.” I’m not going to go into details, because I can’t share Lachlan’s secrets. They’re not mine to tell.

  The waitress makes quick work of delivering my lemonade in a tall glass, and his coffee in a white ceramic mug. Once she dashes back inside without saying a word, I take a sip of my lemonade. It’s okay.

  “Is that good?” He nods to my drink.

  “It’s fine. Thank you and yours?”

  Holding the mug to his mouth, he blows on the top. Steam billows from the cup, before he takes a sip from the edge. I watch in fascination, awaiting his response. Hoping that his coffee is better than my lemonade.

  In our friendly silence, a strange sensation unexpectedly washes over me and I shake it off. Weird.

  “It’ll do.” Bonez shrugs with indifference. “As for Smoke. . .I’m sorry he was an asshole to ya yesterday. . .But I gotta tell ya, he’s sweet on you. If he was a dick, it’s because he’s a guy, and guys do that sometimes. Especially guys like him and me, who’ve been takin’ care of themselves far longer than most.”

  “What does that actually mean?” I know I might sound stupid for asking. Nevertheless, I have no clue what he’s getting at.

  I take another sip of lemonade, and Bonez fixes his white collared dress shirt by refolding the sleeves up his forearms, exposing all of those colorful tattoos. “Listen, I suppose you’ve been through the same. Lived like us.”

  I still don’t get it.

  “When you first arrived, Sniper put a call out to some contacts,” he adds, providing little clarity.

  “A call for what?”

  “We needed some Intel, and my brother’s a tech nerd,” Bonez explains, and I don’t know why that strikes me as funny, but it does. I try to throttle a giggle, only I’m not completely successful when a fraction bubbles out. “You think it’s funny?” From his grin, I can tell he’s amused with me.

  “I think it’s funny you have a tech nerd for a brother,” I clarify, although I’m not sure why I do.

  “He’s not that kind of tech nerd. He’s also a biker, part of a club up north. A bigger club that we support. His name’s Gunz.”

  “You’re Bonez, and he’s Gunz?” I can’t hide my joy from this knowledge. That’s kinda cute. Weird, but cute.

  “Yep.” He proudly jerks a nod. “And we’ve both got gray hair, ‘cept he’s bald. And his legal name’s Erik, while mine’s Eli.”

  “Lots of similarities there,” I note.

  “Oh, you don’t know the half of it,” he winks mischievously, grinning.

  I’m not even going to ask what that’s supposed to mean. I’m sure I don’t want to know what the half of it means. If I’d wager a guess, I’d say it starts with a k and ends with an inky.

  He continues. “As I was sayin’, we asked for some Intel and he gave it. You ain’t got much of a paper trail. No dad on record, and you weren’t raised by your mama. Says you’re from Kansas. Your grandma adopted ya. But after she died, the trail went cold. Guessin’ you’ve been takin’ care of yourself just as long as Smoke and I have been takin’ care of ourselves. I joined the military, and my brother joined a club. Parents been dead since forever. And Smoke ain’t much different. Had a daddy who shipped him off, a mama who was too naive to fight it. And, like me, he joined up to make some sense of his life.”

  He pauses to take another sip of his coffee, and I follow suit. “Except Smoke got burned when he married a whore just so he could keep that little ray of sunshine in his life. And it probably doesn’t help that most people can’t understand a fuckin’ thing he says half the time. So. . .like I said. . .Smoke’s gonna be an asshole. He’s only ever had himself, and now Whisky and the club to rely on. As I’m sure ya can relate, seein’ as though you don’t have any family, or anybody else ‘cept us lookin’ out for ya,” he pauses a beat before adding, “you’ve been doin’ it all on your own, am I right?”

  How does he know so much? How could he be any more spot on? He’s not only a hand wizard; he’s smart as a whip, too. No one can get anything past this one. I’m not sure if that’s endearing or freaky—maybe a little of both.

  Playing with my nails, I bob my head in reply. “Yeah, I’ve been alone for ten years. Since, like you said, my grams passed. I know what he’s been dealing with, but it doesn’t make it right for him to treat me that way. Or any man for that matter. And, to be honest. . .if I had a place to go and I knew that it wouldn’t break Bridget’s heart, I probably would have left last night.” And if I didn’t care for the Scot as much as I do.

  “Is that why your eyes were swollen when you came in?”

  “Yes,” I blurt honestly. “I cried last night after I decided I’m not speaking to him for a while. Not that he’ll care, anyhow,” I tack on, because that’s how I feel. It’s got me worried sick that maybe he’ll just throw me away like yesterday’s trash. I hate feeling vulnerable like that; I haven’t felt this way in years.

  Bonez finishes off his coffee, while flick
ing his eyes to the road behind me, then back to my face. “Don’t look now.” He speaks behind his cup, although I can see a huge smile crinkling at the edges of his eyes as his shoulders bounce in light, understated chuckles. “But the man you think doesn’t care if you talk to him, has been sitting over at Whisky’s, staring this way since we sat down. And I’m willin’ to bet he’s been over there a helluva lot longer than that.” Setting his empty mug on the table, he raises his strong chin in the same direction his eyes move.

  “Lachlan’s over there?” I can’t withhold my disbelief. Would he be spying? Or is he just over at Whisky’s helping out? I’m not going to look to find out. Don’t want him thinking I care that much. Or do I? Geeze, I’m so confused.

  “Yes, Smoke’s over there, and he’s coming outside right now.”

  I feel his eyes on me before I hear his boots stomping their way over. The hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. Each heel scrape on the asphalt has my heart fluttering to the beat. I swallow hard.

  Lachlan steps up next to me, so close that I can feel the heat emanating off his body, and his manly scent intoxicating my senses. My mouth waters in recognition. God, it’s been less than a day and I already miss him. This is going to kill me.

  “Smoke.” Bonez is the first to speak, as he extends his arm across the table, offering his fist to Lachlan.

  “Bonez.” He bumps his fist in return, his voice husky and raw. It melts over me like a rich chocolate.

  A hand touches the back of my chair. “Mags,” he says. I’m not sure if it’s in greeting, or if he’s wanting my attention. Either way, I ignore it and keep my eyes focused on Bonez.

  “Mags,” Lachlan repeats, stronger this time. I feel it deep, so deep that my lady parts take notice as they answer his call, awakening in my panties. Damn.

  By the grace of God, Bonez comes to my rescue. “I was just talking to Maggie, here, about the club party next weekend. Asked her if she’d like to accompany me. She said she’d be delighted to. . .Didn’t ya, Maggie?” His expressive eyes are alight with mischief.