She took a step towards Mason, and felt the drag of Daniel’s fingers tangling again in her belt loops, pulling her back towards him. She raised her head to look up at him, seeing how much weight he’d lost, his face drawn and gaunt. He had deep furrows framing his mouth, and he was biting his lips together, almost like he was silencing himself. Unlike Slate, there were no wrinkles in his forehead, but a look of such pain on his face it tore at her composure.
“What do y’all want from me?” she whispered. “You are all looking at me, and I don’t know what you want me to do.”
Slate laughed uncertainly. “I think we’re checking to see if you are gonna freak, princess.”
She shook her head. “No freakage, Slate. It feels…I dunno…final—like it’s over, after so many years of looking over my shoulder and not sleeping. It’s over, finally. My face hurts, though.” She tried to wrinkle her nose and winced.
Looking at Daniel beside her, Slate asked, “Are you with us, man?”
Daniel had a shudder run down his frame, and his arms strained tightly as he nodded back at him, and then looked at Mason and asked, “Did you know this was coming? Is that why you called me?”
Mason shook his head. “She wanted to see you, man. There’s a lot of talking she needs to do, and it seemed like this was a good time to listen.” He walked over to Mica, reaching his hand out to her face, his fingertips tracing one cheekbone. “Babe, your nose is really swollen; we need to get that looked at.” She shook her head, and then he yelled over her shoulder, “Tug, do you need stitches?” All they heard was a grunt in response.
Looking at Slate and then at Daniel, Mason said, “Babe, I need to make a call. Stay here with Daniel, okay?” He walked away, pulling his cell out of his front pocket. Slate stepped closer to the trailer and leaned against the ramp to make sure no one opened it.
An hour later, sitting on a bucket outside the trailer, she held an ice pack to her poor, swollen nose and watched Slate and Daniel clean up the mess inside. She was in a clean shirt at least, and looked a lot less like a horror movie extra now. Tug had declined going to a hospital, so Daniel had stitched his head up and treated him with antiseptic.
About half an hour ago, a van drove up, and three men got out to talk to Mason. They were wearing biker vests, but she couldn’t read the name of the club, just caught a glimpse of the patch, which was a single wheel with feathery wings on either side. They shook hands with Mason, Slate, and Tug, giving Daniel a chin lift. The bikers flatly ignored her and the girls.
One of the men got back into the van and maneuvered it up to the trailer, lining up the side door of the van with the back of the trailer. The other two men opened up the back of the trailer, and Slate moved Essa’s horse Breezy to block the view from the side. The rig rocked for a second, and then Tug was closing it all back up. She heard the van door slam, and saw one of the men jauntily salute Mason before he climbed into the driver’s seat.
Then the van was gone, pulling away into the dust and darkness. Mica watched without emotion, feeling a clear separation between her and any reaction to the thing they put into the vehicle. She thought idly that not only did she not know what the bikers would do to Ray, she simply didn’t care. Her one concern was that the girls couldn’t know anything was going on.
Mason came over and sat down beside her; he reached out his hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She leaned her head into his hand, and then exaggerating the effects of her swollen face, said, “I wanna know when oo call Dan’l.”
He laughed at her, as was her intent, and answered, “Yesterday. I called him yesterday, but I didn’t know until he texted me from the hotel that he was coming.”
Her eyes flashed over to Daniel, standing at a distance from them. “I don’t know what to say to him.” She was on the brink of tears; he was so close, but seemed too far away to reach.
Mason stared at her. “Then don’t say anything. Or say everything. You can hold him, or you can let him walk away. I think the power is in your hands, babe.” With that, Mason stood, stretched, and then reached down to stroke her hair one more time before he walked away towards Tug and the girls.
Mica sat there for nearly an hour hoping Daniel would come talk to her, but he stayed away, talking to Slate. Every time she caught him looking her way, he looked angry and clamped his lips together. His eyes were deeply set under his brow, and she thought again how much weight he had lost, how sad he looked, and how much she wanted to hold him again.
Closing her eyes, she thought about the words of her favorite Jason Mraz song and slowed her breathing. The song made no bones about how bad things could be, but it showed a way past them; it talked about how to deal with the details. Mica stood, wavering for a second, and then took the first step towards Daniel.
Watching her, he stood and waited. Steadily, step by step, she walked towards the man she loved with all her heart. He was patiently standing without moving, neither encouraging nor discouraging her, simply looking at her as she moved closer towards him.
Finally, she was within a couple feet of him and reached her hands out to his arms, needing to touch him before she ran out of courage. Daniel took a deep breath, tucking his chin into his chest, his eyes closing in a grimace. Her fingers softly traced up his arm towards his shoulder, and he drew in a ragged breath. She flattened her other palm against his chest, running it upwards to cup the back of his neck.
“Daniel,” she breathed, lifting her face and running her lips across his. He groaned harshly and his mouth captured hers, his arms wrapping around her waist to pull her tight against his body. He kissed her deeply, furiously, like he was drowning and she was his lifeline. He was eating at her mouth, slanting and angling his lips across hers again and again. She moaned into his mouth, and he ravished her with his tongue, sliding it roughly into her mouth, teasing and tasting every corner, reacquainting himself with the flavor and texture that was all Mica.
He broke the kiss and held her away from him with his hands on her upper arms. His eyes were searching her face intently, watching the emotions there. What he saw must have satisfied him, because he pulled her close again, tucking her head underneath his chin and holding her for a long time. She took a deep breath in, wanting to begin the conversation she knew they had to have, and he stopped her, saying softly, “Not yet, just let me…oh, please, baby…not yet.”
Closing her eyes, she rested quietly in his arms, willing to wait as long as he needed. After a long time, he started swaying almost imperceptibly as he held her. One of his hands slid down her back, cupping her ass and pulling her tightly against him. She gasped as he ground his erection into her stomach, letting her feel the hard length of him sheathed by his jeans.
Daniel’s other hand moved up her back, winding in the hair at the back of her head and tugging her head to one side. His lips moved along the column of her throat, his teeth nipping roughly at her skin, followed by his tongue, licking along and easing the sting. She felt under dual attack by him, and she was trying to keep her wits about her, because she knew they had to talk before they could be together again.
“Daniel,” she whispered, “that feels so good. I’ve missed you so much.” As she uttered those words, it was as if she had thrown a bucket of cold water on him. His hands dropped from her body and he took a big step backwards.
He ground out, “Mica, you missed me?” and laughed harshly. “You,” he emphasized the word with a pointed finger in her direction, “missed me?” She looked at him and nodded, frowning. He stepped backwards again. “You missed me. You.” He laughed again, running one hand across his chin, clamping his lips closed for a moment. “You left me, Mica. I missed you. I called you a dozen times a day. I texted you constantly. I sent you flowers. I begged you to come back. I came to your house, your work, your favorite restaurants…until you had Mason’s boys let me know I was no longer welcome. I reached out every way I could to find out why you left me. You did not—you do not, miss me. You left me.”
Mica took a step towards him and he moved back again. Stopping, she held her hands out. “Daniel, I have so many things I need to tell you…to explain.”
He laughed again, that bleak, off-balance noise that sounded so bitter in his throat. “Mica, I believe you. I expect after so long, you do have things you’d like to share. After what happened here tonight, I think I have an idea of what some of it is,” he dragged his hand across his chin again, “but I think the time for talking is in the past, somewhere weeks ago. I gave you my heart. I loved you,” his voice cracked, and her heart stuttered at the past tense use of the word, “so much, and I wanted you with me always.”
He clamped his lips tightly again, breathing through his nose. “Leaving me like you did simply broke me. I’m heartbroken still. I loved you, and you left me without telling me what I did. I won’t play games, and from where I’m standing, that’s what it looks like you are up to again.” Closing the distance between them quickly, he swept her into a tight embrace, bringing his hand up to stroke her face softly. “I’m glad you are safe, Mica, more glad than you know.” He whispered in her ear, “I love you…so much. Goodbye.” He pressed a hard kiss against the side of her head, and then moved away from her.
Turning on his heel, he walked away, pulling his hoodie up over his head and shutting out everything. Her hand reached out to him, but grasped only empty air as the tears began falling down her face. She stood there watching his figure until he moved out of sight, her arm slowly sinking to rest at her side.
Mica thought she had always assumed a broken heart was a turn of phrase, a way to describe an emotion. She had never known it was actual, physical pain—pain so deep and sharp, it took her breath away. She closed her eyes, realizing she had caused Daniel this kind of pain, and it redoubled her agony. Her breath came short and quick; she was panting with the pain. And crying, oh, she was crying as if her world had ended, because—she realized—it had.
51 -
Isolation
“Mason, don’t,” Mica complained, shrugging her shoulders out of his hands. “I don’t…just please, don’t.” Standing in the living room of Janet and Rob’s house, he frowned at Mica. It was nearly a week since Ray…and Daniel. She wasn’t eating or sleeping, and she wouldn’t accept any comfort from him or her family. It was tearing him up inside to see her punishing herself like this. He couldn’t think of any reasonable way to force her to begin healing. He’d sent Slate and Tug home a couple days ago, and it was time for him to go home too.
Mica kept telling him she didn’t want to go back yet. She wanted to stay for Molly…stay a few more days…stay just another day; there was always another reason to not book a flight yet. He knew Jess was holding down the fort at MishMash, but could only do that for a short time. “Babe, do you see what you’re doing to yourself?” He wondered if he could get through to her this time. He’d tried so many times, but his efforts had fallen far short of what she needed.
“Mica, do you know what you are doing to me?” he asked in a low voice. “It’s like you are wasting away in front of me, crumbling apart, and I can’t do anything about it. You’ve forgotten you’re a strong, beautiful woman.”
She gave no response, looking down at her small hands linked together at her waist. He took a deep breath and reached a shaking hand out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I can’t stay any longer. I have to go home, babe. I have businesses to run.”
“Okay, Mason, thanks for staying so long,” she said distractedly. She seemed inwardly focused, and he wasn’t sure she really heard him.
“Mica, do you hear me? I am leaving in the morning. Don’t you want to go home, too?”
She shrugged. “Not really.”
He saw Essa coming up behind her over her shoulder, and asked again, “Are you sure you don’t want to come home with me, Mica?”
He saw Essa’s smile falter, waiting along with him for her answer. “Yes, I’m sure, Mason.” Mica turned away, walking over to the window that looked out over the horse barns.
“Mason, do you have to go?” Essa whispered. “Don’t leave her; she’s so lost right now.”
Mason shook his head at her. “I can’t make her want to go. I can’t make her want to be okay, Essa, and I have to go home. I’ve waited a long time for her. I have to go home.”
52 -
Keep tracking
Daniel was sitting in the stands of the empty arena, with his hockey stick laying across his knees. This had long been his game day routine: arriving at the rink early so he could take in the layout, the ice, listen to the building breathe around him. He tipped the stick back and forth absently, not thinking, just being.
They were playing tonight, up against the Rockford team. This was the last game before the final championship series, and the Rockford Talons were all that stood in their way.
In regular season this year, they had won three, lost two, and won in overtime one game against Rockford, but the playoffs were a different beast. The two teams had battled now for six long games, splitting the count at three and three, forcing them to a seventh game.
Before the playoffs began, the Talons had bolstered their roster with some good talent. Due to injuries, the Mallets had a couple of young kids in key positions now, like their rookie goalie. Daniel had been working hard with the new players, mentoring them to bring their confidence level up. They had the skills, but the AHL players at this level were intimidating, even the ones on their own team.
Sitting in his seat, he tipped his head back, blowing air at the ceiling through pursed lips. Sitting like that for a minute, he relaxed completely, closing his eyes and simply listening to his own heartbeat, to the movement of air through his lungs.
It was about an hour before the time he’d need to get his pads on, and he had prepared his team as thoroughly as possible. They had watched videos until their eyes crossed, and they had worked out and practiced until they were too exhausted to do anything except sit in the locker room. Everyone was as ready as they could be, except for him.
Daniel sighed regretfully. Even though he’d finally listened to J.J. and put up the bottle, his head still wasn’t in the game. Losing the alcohol took away those brief moments of time when he could blessedly forget Mica had left him. Now, with no numbing agent, he was left with the pain all the time; there was no respite. He could see her face in front of him, with the devastated look in her eyes as he told her that her actions had been the end of them.
He had been terrified when he saw her on the ground in front of Ray, when the only thing keeping Ray from killing Mica was her little sister’s softball arm pegging him again and again with rocks. Mason was there, but he was always there, always around, always touching her, always calling her ‘babe’. Even though he wasn’t sure why, Daniel felt he couldn’t ever measure up to what Mason had done for Mica, what he was to her. Everything felt so confused.
Back in the spring, it was clear she had chosen Mason over Daniel, because she had confided in him. Daniel scoffed at himself, because while Mason had stayed active in her life, Daniel was left far behind.
There was that group of Rebels who were always around too. Those Rebels had pet names for her—princess, babe, sweetheart—and they all had parts of her that Daniel would never be able to have. He felt like he could never catch up; he simply couldn’t complete with what they had, what they knew.
He was glad he had gone to Texas when Mason called. For a few brief moments, when he was kissing her, touching her, it was as if no time had passed. He knew her body intimately, and was exhilarated by her response to his passion and arousal. They’d been together again.
He hadn’t worried about anything except holding her, loving her, until she reminded him they had been apart. Then he remembered—he’d been alone for so long, because she had left him.
Shaking his head, he put his elbows on the stick across his knees. He had many regrets about that day, but the one thing he didn’t regret was standing back and letting Mason deal with R
ay. He didn’t know for sure what happened, but he was pretty sure Mica didn’t need to worry about him again. Bringing his head back to the current moment, he tipped his head back again, trying to recapture the relaxed state from a few minutes before…but the moment was gone.
Hearing footsteps coming up the stairs near his seat, he said without looking up, “I’m happy to sign anything; just give me a sec,” and blew air up towards the ceiling through pursed lips.
Hearing a gruff laugh, Daniel’s mouth tightened as he opened his eyes to find Mason standing there. There was no love lost between the men now; their friendship seemed gone—another casualty of Mica’s betrayal.
“Daniel, how the hell are ya?” came Mason’s familiar greeting.
“Mason,” he responded tightly, “what brings you to the arena today?”
“I need to talk to you. Now or after the game, you tell me when,” Mason shook his head, “but I won’t take no for an answer today, Daniel. You need to hear this from me, if you won’t listen to her.”
Daniel’s heart fell. “Mason, I…I don’t care. You don’t get it—I can’t care, man. I’m fucking broken. You and Mica nearly killed me. I don’t want to hear anything.”
He saw Mason’s head shaking back and forth before he’d got two words out of his mouth. “Daniel, you don’t know, and trust me, you need to know before you close that door.”
“Mason, I can’t. I just can’t, not now. I need to get ready for the game. Call me tonight, after. I’m at the Hilton; we can go to the bar there.”
Mason nodded, turning and heading back down the steps. “Tonight then. See ya.” Daniel watched him go, wondering what was so important that Mason would come to Rockford.
Mica (Rebel Wayfarers MC) Page 33
