Dirty Biker (An MC Motorcycle Romance) (The Maxwell Family)

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Dirty Biker (An MC Motorcycle Romance) (The Maxwell Family) Page 39

by Alycia Taylor


  God, I missed Emma. I never had other friends I could really talk to. My other friends were about going out and having fun. I was also a little bit worried that they would judge me over dating Emma’s brother. Emma wouldn’t have ever judged me. She might verbally kick my ass if she thought I was involved in something that would hurt me, but she would never judge. I looked back up at my Dad and realized he was the only person left in my life that I could really say that about now. He might judge my boyfriends like crazy, but not me.

  “Dad?”

  “Yeah, honey?”

  “Have you ever had really strong feelings for someone and it seemed like no matter how hard you tried to make it work with them, things just seemed to keep getting in the way?”

  He looked at me and I could see in his eyes that he was thinking about my mom. I felt bad for bringing it up. He really loved her. So much that he was still single after all this time. She had really done a number on him…on both of us. I was about to tell him I was sorry for bringing it up when he wiped his hands and came over and sat with me at the table.

  “Are we talking about Ian?” he asked. He knew we were, but he looked like he wanted me to tell him we weren’t.

  “Yeah. You know that we’ve spent time together. The truth is that we’ve spent a lot of time together. It started out with us helping each other to get past Emma’s death…but it turned into more. I have so much fun when I’m with him. I feel comfortable and safe…I really care about him but my feelings for him are so jumbled together with my feelings over Emma’s death that I’m just not sure how to handle it all.”

  “Maybe what you need is some time to sort it all out without anyone putting any kind of pressure on you.” I could see on his face that by “anyone” he meant “Ian”.

  “Ian’s not putting pressure on me. He’s been completely willing to let me take this as fast or as slow as I want to. It’s just that every little thing that happens between us seems so much more intense than it probably should in such a new relationship. I find myself questioning everything and him worrying about how I’ll react to things to the point of not telling me about them. Do you think that’s because of Emma? Are we both just hyper-sensitive because of what we went through?”

  “Yeah, I think that’s probably got a lot to do with it. I also think it could be a good excuse for hiding things, so I’m glad to hear you’re not standing for that.”

  “He’s not really hiding things.” I was compelled to defend him and the look on my dad’s face told me that worried him more than anything.

  “I’m just saying that I think it’s all a good argument for why you should take some time for yourself. Since Emma died, you’ve spent a lot of time worrying about Ian’s feelings and maybe not enough worrying about your own.”

  “So what should I do? I mean, I’ve tried the lying in bed and moping…that didn’t work.”

  He smiled sadly and said, “No, I don’t want you to go back there. I’m not sure I could take that…I was so worried about you. I was thinking about you going out and doing something fun…but something that’s just for you. Forget about all of this just for a day. Go to a spa or go shopping or for a walk in the park. Whatever sounds fun to you. Then, while you’re doing it, don’t think about anything else. Just concentrate on you. After your head is cleared, give this some more thought.”

  “I don’t think I could do that, just turn it all off,” I said.

  “You’ll never know if you don’t try. Look at it this way, the way you’re doing it is not working so why not try something different. What could it hurt?”

  He had a point. If I took a day for myself and tried not to think about everything and it didn’t work then I haven’t lost anything…I’ve just gained a day for myself.

  “Maybe you’re right, Dad,” I told him.

  “I’m always right,” he said with a smile, “That’s why I get to call myself “Dad.”

  “So true, sometimes I forget,” I told him with a grin. He could be exasperating sometimes, but there were reasons behind why he was so overprotective when it came to relationships and me. I always knew he loved me.

  “Maybe I’ll go to the mall tomorrow. I could use some new summer clothes anyway.” He got up and kissed the top of my head. When he got back over to the counter he said,

  “So do you want a sandwich or not?” He was spreading pickle relish on it now.

  “Um…not,” I said with a smile.

  Chapter Three

  Alexa

  Waking up is no longer a pleasure and sometimes I wondered if it ever would be again. There is one, grand fleeting moment when I’m whole and everything is okay. Then the memories of the past month begin to seep in…always beginning with the fact that Emma is dead. My lids don’t casually flutter open any longer. They snap open and look around the room, searching for…something. My brain becomes almost immediately overwhelmed again as if it were all new, fresh and raw. I want to linger in the blissful ignorance of waking up, but since I know I won’t be able to do that, at night I’ve begun to fight sleep like a toddler…I was so tired, all the time.

  After I reminded myself, and not kindly, that my best friend was dead, I thought about Ian. I missed him already. I wanted to see him. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to touch him. I knew that was a bad idea until I had somethings figured out, so then I was really tempted to just pull the covers over my head and stay where I was. Unfortunately I’d tried that already and knew that wasn’t the solution either. My brain just wouldn’t shut down. I forced myself up and got into the shower.

  I stood underneath the water and breathed in the steam, urging my mind to fade into that nothingness where everything real becomes a foggy illusion. I stood there and felt the warmth cascade down and over, and tried to imagine all of the stress washing down the drain. I stayed underneath the spray until the room was full of steam and the hot water was beginning to turn lukewarm before finally turning it off and stepping out. It hadn’t worked. The stress was still clinging to me. I picked up the towel and wiped the steam off of the mirror. I looked at my face and thought again about Emma. I wondered, not for the first time, how a person who was so dearly loved could disappear from the earth yet life could just go on. We still ate and showered and dressed and slept…and so many other things, while Emma didn’t do any of that any longer. I wondered sometimes if the tables had been turned and I’d been the one to die instead of Emma, if she would have done a better job of figuring this all out than I seem to be doing.

  After I was dressed and had my hair and makeup done, I felt a little better. I went out of my room and found dad sitting at the dining room table, having his coffee.

  “Morning princess. How did you sleep?”

  “Good,” I lied, giving him a kiss on the cheek. I think, to be honest, I slept about an hour in total.

  “What about you?” I poured myself some coffee and sat down with him.

  “Not bad,” he said. He was probably lying too. I don’t think he’s slept through the night in years. It’s where I get my tendency to obsess over things from. “What’s on your agenda today?”

  “I’m going to take my dad’s advice and disappear with myself for a few hours. I’m all ready for a day with no company, no deep-thoughts, just me and…hopefully my father’s Visa card?” That reminded me that maybe I needed to start thinking about looking for a job while I was here. I’d been so wrapped up in Emma and Ian…I had just selfishly allowed my dad to pay for everything. I guess at almost twenty years old, I should be past that. He didn’t care, but I should. As I knew he would, he smiled and took out his wallet. He handed me his AMEX card. I looked at it and said, “Are you sure? I could go hog wild with this one.”

  He laughed, “I trust you,” he said.

  “Thanks, Dad. One of these days, I’ll pay you back.”

  “I’m not worried about it,” he said. I believed him, but since I didn’t have a job yet and I’d taken an entire semester off school, I hoped he wasn’t holding his bre
ath because it might not be anytime soon. I finished my coffee, waiting until nine before I left, knowing the mall wouldn’t be open until then. I wished Dad a good day and took off for my “day for me”.

  I didn’t want to run into anyone I knew today. I thought that might just defeat the purpose of this whole day with me exercise. Instead of going to our mall, I drove to the next town over. Their mall was a lot bigger anyways and I could get lost inside of it for hours if I wanted to. I took a deep breath as I got out of the car and willed my mind to clear itself of all the negative thoughts…all thoughts period. I walked in through the Macy’s entrance and looked around at all of the colorful displays. This just might work.

  I started browsing and something about the smell from the fragrance counter reminded me of Emma. Emma loved to shop. She loved the mall. She used to say that the smell of it “empowered” her. She loved the attention we would get in a store like this and she would touch every dress or blouse or pair of pants that she liked, just to feel the texture of it. She’d try on everything, whether or not she needed it, or could afford it. She would get a free makeover and we never got out without a manicure. Sometimes we’d spend the entire day and go home without a single purchase…but it was always fun. Everything with Emma was an adventure.

  “Miss, are you okay?”

  I looked up and realized I was standing near the exit door and people had to go around me. My face felt wet and I reached up and touched my cheeks. There were tears there and people were staring at me. I wiped them away quickly.

  “I’m fine, I said to the concerned-looking sales lady.

  “I’m sorry.”

  I forced a smile and moved on. So much for forgetting.

  Chapter Four

  Ian

  I woke up thinking about Alexa. That wasn’t a surprise, since I’d gone to sleep thinking about her as well. I knew before I even got out of bed that I had to talk to her today. The first thing I did was reach for my phone. Halfway through dialing her number, I realized that it would just be better to see her, face-to-face. I got showered and dressed and headed over to her house. It was just after nine, and it was Saturday, so her dad would probably be there. I kind of got the feeling he wasn’t crazy about the idea of her seeing me…but I’ve never been a favorite amongst the “Dads, so I could handle that. I’d come to terms with the fact that a former delinquent turned professional fighter was probably not who they’d dreamed their little princesses would end up with. I can’t say as I blamed them. I doubted I’d think I was good enough for my own daughter either, if I ever had one.

  When I drove up to the house, I didn’t see her car, but told myself that it was probably in the garage and I couldn’t back out now. I took a deep breath before parking along the street and getting out of the car. I wondered as I walked up to the door if she would be happy to see me…or pissed at me for not leaving her alone and waiting for her to call like she’d asked. I stood looking at the hanging plants in the entryway and knocked. After several seconds Alexa’s dad pulled open the door. He didn’t look at all happy to see me, and from the look on his face I got the feeling maybe Alexa had told him everything that has happened between us. He was giving me “the look” that fathers reserved only for men who hurt their daughters. My dad used to have one just like it that he used on Emma’s boyfriends.

  “Hi,” I said, trying to look and sound my friendliest, or at the very least praying that my voice wouldn’t crack. Never show fear. “I was wondering if Alexa was here.”

  “She’s not here,” he said. He was still giving me the glare. I tried to think of it the way I do in a fight. Don’t let it intimidate you. You should smile and just move on from there. If he throws a punch, you can take it. It’s not going to kill you.

  “Okay, I’ll just give her a call later then, thanks.” I started to step back and he opened the door all the way and said,

  “Come in.” It seemed more like a threat than an invitation, but what was I going to do…run? I went inside and almost gulped as he slammed the door behind me.

  “Sit,” he said.

  I went into the living room and did as I was told. I didn’t see any guns out that he may have been cleaning, so that was good. I smiled again, and tried to look happy about being here. I wanted Alexa…badly. I wasn’t going to screw it up further by getting on the wrong side of the only man in her life.

  Her dad sat across from me and worked the glare again for a few minutes before he finally said, “She doesn’t need your drama in her life right now, Ian. I feel so damned bad for you and your family. Emma was a great girl and I loved her too. I can’t imagine what you’re all going through. But…Alexa is my daughter and I love her more than life itself. She’s going through the same pain that you are and on top of that, you’re heaping more on her. She’s hurting, and you’re making it worse.”

  I felt like he’d just punched me in the gut. What was I supposed to say? I was here because I couldn’t stand the thought of being without her and her father was here, telling me I was hurting her and she didn’t need me. I need her.

  “I never had any intentions of hurting her. I care about Alexa and she and I have been helping each other through this thing with Emma…”

  “If you’re helping her then why is she so miserable?”

  “Like you said, this is not an easy thing to deal with for any of us…” he kept interrupting me. I was talking faster, trying to get my own point out before he did.

  “She’s grieving over Emma, but this is more. This is her starting to think that what she has with you is more than you leaning on her and her leaning on you. This is setting her up to fall hard. You’re not helping her, Ian. She’s not happy. The best thing you can do for her if you truly care about her like you say…is walk away now.”

  “What if that’s not what she wants?”

  “She’s confused and hurting. She has no idea what she wants or needs right now. Leave her alone and she’ll be okay. She’s strong…but if you hang around and keep hurting her when she’s already broken…you could leave a permanent scar. I’m sick of seeing her come home from being with you looking like her heart has been broken…again. Just leave her alone, Ian. She’s a good girl. She deserves better.”

  I had no intentions of hurting Alexa. Even if things didn’t work out for us dating, I still cared about her. She was Emma’s best friend and that alone gave her a special rank. But there was more than that…so much more. I wanted so badly to continue to explore it and figure out where it was going. This was all new to me. Of course I’d had girlfriends before…but none of them had affected me the way that Alexa does. How am I supposed to just walk away from that?

  “I never wanted to hurt her.”

  “I doubt that was your intention…but she’s hurting nonetheless. So now you need to man up and do something about it.”

  “And you think that walking away from her now is not going to hurt her?” I failed to see how just walking away when she was still going through all of this crap was manning up.

  “Not as badly as it would hurt her on down the road. People get into relationships and let themselves believe that it’s going to be forever. They throw themselves into it 100% and then when it doesn’t work out…they feel like they’ve lost everything. After what she’s been through, I don’t know if she could handle that. It would be devastating.”

  I wondered what made him think it wasn’t going to work out. I had been taking this thing with Alexa as it came a day at a time. I hadn’t considered much farther into the future than that. Was I ready to commit to forever? No. I wanted her; I knew that as much as I knew I’d be taking my next breath. Did I want her forever? Was she going to want me forever? I couldn’t answer that question, and maybe that was what he was talking about.

  “So you think I should just not contact her anymore? I shouldn’t at least talk to her about this and see what it is that she wants?”

  “I think not contacting her would be best. She’s confused, Ian. She’s hurting and
she doesn’t know what she wants. If you walk away now, before she gets too attached, her feelings will be hurt, but at least her heart won’t be broken.”

  I felt numb. I wished he was wrong but what if he wasn’t? I had already hurt her quite a bit in the short time we’d been together. I was, by history, a screw up. What made me think it would be any different from here on out? Was it okay for me to risk hurting her because of what I wanted? Not if I really cared about her…and I did…I do.

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Okay? You’ll leave her alone?”

  He sounded surprised. Maybe I had given in too easily. Fuck, I have no idea.

  “Yeah, I’ll leave her alone. I don’t want to hurt her.”

  “Thank you, Ian.” He looked relieved and I realized that he knew I really had the power here to refuse. Did it make me less of a man for not refusing him, or more? I had no fucking clue, but lately, that was a permanent state of mind for me.

  I went home, feeling like a bigger piece of crap than I had before. I lost my sister and now I felt like I’d lost my best friend. I wanted to hit something. I paced around the apartment for a while like a caged animal and finally went to the gym.

  I went straight for the bag. I wanted to just wail on it, I was so frustrated. But I knew that I had to find some control somewhere, so I just ran it like a regular circuit workout. I started with my right leg, doing low kicks for five reps. When I worked out on the bag, I’d gotten good at using my imagination to picture my opponent and where my kicks and punches would be landing on a live person. Today, I pictured Kristie. I would never, ever hit her…but it was cathartic to think about it.

  I kicked the lower half of the bag, picturing her legs…those long, overly tanned legs. I did a pivot on my support foot and turned my hip as I delivered the kick. Maximum power. Then I switched legs and did another five before switching to high-kick. I kicked the top of the bag…aiming for her overly made-up face. I did five of those on each leg and by that time I was starting to sweat. I tried to visualize the stress leaving my body with the sweat.

 

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