by A. J. Downey
“Where to?” the driver said wide eyed. I gave him the address to the club house.
“Where you going?” Trig asked gently.
“Away,” I said softly over Hayden’s crying, smoothing a hand uselessly up and down her back, “You cool without me for a few days?” I asked.
“Do what you gotta do,” he said grimly. Good ‘ol Trig. I knew he’d have my back. Ashton’s golden eyes were shut down with concern as she gazed at her friend’s tiny form balled up in my lap. Her gaze trailed up to my face and she nodded grimly too. Shit. She knew I’d take care of her, but fucked if I didn’t feel like maybe a little too much faith was being put into me here.
The driver pulled up the steep gravel drive into the lot at the top and stopped. Trigger tipped him well and I got out of the car with Hayden still balled up in my arms. She wasn’t crying anymore but I think that was more because she just didn’t have anything left in her. Well that was too bad. We had like an eight or nine hour ride ahead of us, I damn sure couldn’t get on a plane with my knives and truth be told I liked both feet planted firmly on the ground. The thought of being that high up gave me the creeps in a big way. I set Hayden to her feet and she wiped her eyes with her sleeve.
“What are we doing here?” she asked miserably. I tipped her face up to look at me, hands to either side of her head.
“Do you trust me?” I asked her softly.
I’d asked her the same question once or twice before. The first time I’d ever taken her for a ride, the first time she’d ever been on the back of a bike. Her eyes glowed with a fierce green light.
“Depends, are you taking me away from here?” she asked. I nodded slowly.
“Then yes. Of course I trust you Reaver.” I smiled and resisted the urge to kiss her.
“Gimme a few minutes.” I let her go abruptly and shot over my shoulder at whoever was listening.
“Put her shit on the bike.” I went to my room in the clubhouse and pulled down clothes and my spare helmet off the shelf. I pulled off the stupid monkey suit and threw a tee shirt over my head and pulled on some jeans. I saved the fancy wallet out of my slacks pocket and transferred the essentials back into my scruffy old one attached to my belt by a chain. I pulled on my boots, figured since the ride was long I’d best throw on my chaps and went back out with my clothes, spare helmet, and my jacket and my cut bundled in my arms.
Back out front I knelt opposite where Ashton was packing Hayden’s things neatly in one of my empty saddlebags. I dumped my shit into the other one and stuffed my running shoes on top. I shrugged into my jacket and cut. I was feeling more human, more myself in minutes.
I held out Shelly’s jacket for Hayden and she shrugged into it. Shelly may be taller than Hayden but she was rail thin so the coat fit the smaller woman like a dream. I eyed Ashton squatting in her matron of honor gown and her strappy high heel matching sandals and I wanted her to hurry the hell up. I kept my cool though, and let her finish and checked out Hayden’s footwear.
Running shoes. Meh, they would have to do. Ashton flopped the top of the saddlebag closed and fastened it. I buckled my spare helmet on Hayden who was watching Ashton, though her green eyes were distant. She wasn’t really here. That was okay… for now. I intended to fucking exhaust her. She wasn’t used to a long ride and I had every intention of taking it in one shot. She’d sleep well tonight and she needed to.
I felt like killing the douchebag all over again but at the same time I was glad for her that she didn’t see him for what he was ten, fifteen years down the line when she’d really given him the best parts of herself. He didn’t deserve ‘em. Truth was, I didn’t either. Hayden Michaels getting tangled up with me would bring her a whole new lesson in pain. A variety of hurts she never knew existed, but fuck if I wasn’t drawn to her like a moth to the flame. I got on the bike and Trigger helped her up after me.
Ashton hugged her and I started the motorcycle up. My best friend and his girl both backed away and I pulled my sunglasses from my inside pocket and slipped them on. I tied my grinning skull bandana over my nose and mouth and felt myself grow hard when Hayden’s arms twined around my chest.
“Where are we going?” she asked suddenly, right before we pulled out.
“On your honeymoon,” I answered grimly and caught her startled expression in my side view.
“But that’s in Flor-!” I pulled out and she bit out a yelp and hung on tighter. I didn’t give her a chance to really acclimate, caning it instead… er… that’s riding aggressively to keep her off balance. I wanted her to focus on the ride, on me, and yeah on holding on for dear life for as long as possible. Why? Because focusing on any of those things would keep her brain on anything but the abject hurt and humiliation she’d just endured in front of her friends, family and even some of her clientele.
Hayden tucked her head and rested it against my back and I took my hand from one of the controls just long enough to pat her hands reassuringly where they were fisted in the front of my tee shirt. It was going to be a long ride.
Somewhere around nine and a half hours later it was drawing on towards evening and I was winding my way through the streets of some small beachfront town in Florida. Twice in the last three hours I had felt Hayden’s grip on me start to slacken, her energy reserves running on empty. Both times I had placed my hand on her knee, found the right spot and squeezed the pressure point there. I knew how much that shit hurt and both times I’d had to be ready for it.
Just as predicted she jerked then held on for dear life but not before throwing the balance of the bike off a bit. I compensated but that shit even scared me! I kept us going and was better prepared for it when the cycle repeated. Now I was tired, sweaty and felt grimy from the dust of the road and was starting to get pissed that I couldn’t find the right fucking house number for this retarded bed and breakfast she’d booked for the two of them. I stopped and looked it up on my phone. Fuck, I’d passed it.
“Hang on beautiful, we’re almost there,” I told her. She held on and I got us there, pulling into the tree lined drive. I killed the bike in front of the Victorian mansion and had to admit, the place looked pretty spiffy. A woman in a salmon colored fitted tee and khaki Capri pants descended the front steps.
“Mr. and Mrs. Richardson?” she asked with a broad smile. I got off the bike.
“Naw. Reaver and Ms. Hayden Michaels who is supposed to be Mrs. Richardson. Place is paid for right?” I asked and she looked taken aback.
“Why, um, yes,” she said as I helped Hayden off the bike. I left the helmets with it and turned back to the woman.
“Cool, I’ll explain later. Which one is ours? She’s had a rough day.” Hayden swayed a little on her feet. I slung the bike’s saddle bags over my shoulder and I steered her into the house behind the hostess lady.
“I’m Miranda Pernell, I own the house. I’ll need ID and…” I listened to the woman prattle on and handed her my driver’s license.
“Say nothing,” I said and gave her a stone cold look. She blushed faintly, looked from the square of laminated cardboard and back to me.
“This is really real?” she asked skeptically.
“Yeah. It’s real. You mind? She’s fallin’ asleep on her feet.” She sped through the paperwork, I signed this, that and the other and she pulled a key down from the rack of ‘em hanging behind the old fashioned check-in desk.
“Right this way Mr. Butler,” she said and I scowled.
“Reaver,” I corrected her.
“Of course,” she pursed her lips like she wanted to say something but wisely kept her mouth shut.
“Thanks,” I told her and shut the door in her startled face. So I was being a dick, she was getting paid and from the looks of things she was getting paid really well.
The room was all antique furniture and Egyptian cotton bedding done in whites and blues. I turned Hayden by the shoulders and looked at her. I steered her into a chair and she sat. I went in the bathroom and ran the tap, wetting a washcloth and r
eturned, cleaning up her face. I loved to see her cry but the aftermath of smeared makeup and eight/nine hours on the back of a bike going across the big slab… That was a shitty look for anybody.
Next I went through the saddlebags. Ashton thought of everything. Hayden’s pajamas were right on top. I raised my eyebrows at the matching set. The fact that they were flowery and pink was the only thing that kept me from thinkin’ they were Andy’s. Nope. No and Hell no. I pulled out a clean tee shirt from my side of the bag. Next came the hard part. I got her changed for bed without copping a single feel. I was the picture of gentlemanly efficiency except for, you know, throwing her pajamas in the trashcan by the door.
She’d fallen asleep sitting up. I tucked her into the big, king sized bed and took a shower before getting in on the other side. I thought to myself that three days and four nights like this might kill me before sleep overcame me. Truth was, I was probably just as exhausted as she was.
Chapter 2
Hayden…
I woke with a start in an unfamiliar bed, in unfamiliar surroundings. I gasped and sat up sharply, the light of false dawn casting soft, barely there light in the room through the floor to ceiling windows, the breezy white curtains hanging open. I listened, the only sounds the distant rhythmic roar of ocean waves upon the shore and the persistent hum of the old house’s modern air conditioning unit.
The rhythmic sound of deep even breathing filled the intimate space and I looked down beside me to the bare muscled back nestled in the covers. A relatively smooth expanse of skin, laced with sweeping lines of silvery scar tissue from long ago altercations. I blinked and traced a finger over the warm skin. Memories of the day before, all of them horrible, rushing to the surface. I took my hand away lest I wake Reaver and closed my eyes against a hot flood of tears. I took in long, slow, deep and even breaths and forced the floodwaters back down. My face burning with the humiliation of it all.
I got out of bed, slipping off the side carefully and went to my knees by the open saddlebags. I was in one of his tees. I didn’t know why. I had packed pajama… I spotted them in the trashcan by the door and smiled. Apparently Reaver had an opinion about them like he did so many other things. I rescued the PJ’s and set them aside for tonight. I swallowed hard and gathered shorts, a tee shirt and fresh underwear and tiptoed into the bathroom.
I stared at myself in the mirror for a long silent minute before starting the shower. I was sore from the long hours cramped in an unfamiliar position on the back of his motorcycle. I hadn’t realized his intentions of bringing me all the way here to my chosen honeymoon destination until we were pretty much already underway. I couldn’t decide if this was a good idea or a bad one and right now I didn’t want to put too much thought into it.
I thrust my face under the hot shower spray and scrubbed it with my hands. I felt tired and grimy and icky and I wasn’t sure it was all something I could wash down the drain, but I was going to try anyway. I used the little hotel soaps and shampoo and conditioner, grateful my hair was so short and that the little bottles would work. The smell of Gardenia’s hung heavy in the little bathroom and I wrinkled my nose. I wasn’t partial to the smell, too flowery for my tastes but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Maybe I could find something more to my tastes later. I sighed. I wondered why he did it. Brought me all the way here. I didn’t much want to be here, alone with my thoughts. There was really nothing good going on inside my head. Nothing at all.
I finished my shower and plucked the fluffy towel off the bar, drying myself briskly. I dressed quickly in a pair of women’s, olive green, short cargo shorts and a white fitted tee and ran a comb through my short hair, parting it on the side and sweeping it down by my opposite ear. I had seen the short hairstyle on Robin Wright in the Netflix series House of Cards. I’d instantly fallen in love with it. She and I had a similar body style despite her being so much taller, much to my envy.
Though she was blonde and my hair was dark, I’d immediately taken a picture of it to my stylist, had my hair cut just like it, and had never looked back. My hair had been this way for two years and I loved it! At most it required just a little hair gel to keep it in place and that was totally acceptable. For now I just let it dry naturally. I didn’t want to use the little hairdryer and risk waking Reaver. Partially because he looked more at peace than I’d ever seen him when he slept and partially because I wasn’t quite ready to deal with his sheer force of personality yet.
He had this undefinable way about him. If I had to put it to words I would have to say Reaver had presence. He knew just what to say and how to say it to put me on edge without ever even opening his mouth… if that made sense. I peeked into the room and he was just as I had left him. Sound asleep. I got back into the bag with my belongings and rooted around in it. I found my smartphone and my wallet. I slipped some cash out of it and stuck it in my back pocket. I slipped my phone into one of my hip pockets… It was turned off and I wondered if it even had a charge.
I looked for the charger but didn’t find it, but I did find a pair of flip flops and so I took those as well. I slipped quietly out of the room and let Reaver sleep, padding barefoot down the stairs. I could smell food in the kitchen and my stomach roiled in an unpleasant manor. I didn’t feel like eating and I didn’t feel like company so instead, I slipped out the back door and out onto the wraparound porch.
I breathed deep the salty air and let my gaze roam the small back yard. A flagstone path led from the porches bottom step, wound artfully through the grass to a little back gate which was beautifully arched to either side by swaying trees and greenery. A portal of lush flora that guests could look through to white sand beaches and the rolling surf beyond. The sight was beautiful and I looked away from it just long enough to start up my phone. It started, fully charged but turned off so it would seem. I dropped my thongs to the painted porch surface and shrugged my feet into them. I wanted sunshine, needed the warmth on my skin… I went down the steps as my phone buzzed through the startup screen in my hand.
As I let myself out through the gate, a slew of messages buzzed through. Forty-three missed calls, nineteen voicemails and so many text messages my phone crashed twice before I could get it to stay on. I sighed. Most of them were from Andy, the rest from my mother and a very few were from miscellaneous clients and guests. I know they meant well with their messages of well wishing, some messages angry on my behalf touting what a jerk Andy was but none of it was really helping. I trudged through the sand towards the water and deleted messages and just generally cleaned up my phone.
The voicemails were all from either Andy or my mother. Andy wanted to talk to me, my mother wanted to get a few more licks in on her disappointing daughter. I groaned and deleted them without listening to more than a few words of each.
My phone started buzzing in my hand. I stared at Andy’s smiling face on the screen and debated answering. I mean, what could he possibly have to say to me? My curiosity won out and I silently made up my mind that I must be some sort of emotional masochist when I slid my finger across the screen to take the call.
“Hello?” I said softly.
“Hayden?” his voice sounded like he didn’t believe I’d answer.
“What do you want Andy?” I asked, and closed my eyes, huddling in on myself.
“Where are you!?” he demanded.
“You don’t get to know that. Now what do you want?” I asked.
“Well do you know when you’ll be back?” he asked and his righteous tone irked me.
“No Andy I don’t! What do you want!?” I repeated for a third time.
“I wanted to let you know I’m going to be picking up my stuff from the townhome…” he said.
“Fine, good, you do that,” I said and I couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my tone.
“Don’t be like that Hayden,” he said softly.
“Are you kidding me!? You left me at the alter Andy, in front of everyone, in front of my family, in front of our friends! After I forgave you!
I thought we were fine! What is the deal with you!? Why? I want to know why!?” I dashed at the tears in my eyes and sniffed.
“I don’t know why. I just… froze… I looked at you and I… shit I couldn’t do it!” he sounded like a little boy who’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, not like a grown man who’d just humiliated the woman he was supposed to profess his love for, for forever and ever.
“Why did you even ask me to marry you?” I asked tiredly.
“I don’t know, because you expected it of me?” he answered and I scoffed.
“Are you seriously asking me? Jesus Andy! Take responsibility and own this and just tell me why… I really need to know! I mean did you ever love me at all?” I couldn’t keep the pleading out of my voice. The second the words were out of my mouth I knew they would lead nowhere good but it was too late. They were out into the ether and I couldn’t take them back.
“I don’t know…” he said and I felt my heart plummet in my chest.
“You don’t know what, why you asked me or if you ever loved me?” I asked, voice hollow.
“I don’t know why I asked you and I don’t know if I ever loved you. I guess you were just… convenient. You know? You were the next expected evolution, go to college, get a good job; marry the girl… I don’t think I really felt one way about you or the other I was just doing what was expected of me and it didn’t hurt that you were hot and your dad and my dad played golf together…” His voice buzzed on in my ear but I’d stopped listening… his words crushed me. If my heart were made of glass, it was nothing but finely ground powder now. Finer than the sand I stood on. Long deft fingers plucked the phone from my hand and I turned and looked up into cool sympathetic blue eyes. Reaver put the phone to his ear.
“Yeah hello?” he said...
“Never mind who this is, what did you say to her this time?” Reaver’s voice was low and controlled.
“I think that’s a good idea. You have until the weekend is up.” His eyes searched my face and narrowed at whatever Andy said on the other line.
