Her head shakes slowly. “We were doing our best for you. Keeping you safe and out of danger. I’d lost sight that we were smothering you too. Now you’ve got to learn independence without me being here to help.”
“You did what you had to,” I reply, firmly. “And there’s the phone, and FaceTime El. We’ll speak every day.”
She nods. “Just so you know, Slick’s going to give Demon the money for a car. He’ll sort it out for you. I’m sure Paladin will help you learn to drive.”
Slick’s been good to me. Treated me like a daughter in many ways. Never made me feel a burden. Part of me thinks though, with their baby on the way, he and my sister deserve to have some alone time, without worrying about me every minute. Even if I’ve got doubts, I’ve got to consider them. This is the best thing all around.
There’s an undercurrent at dinner. Slick and Ella don’t seem to pick up on it, but I do. There’s something not quite right between Hellfire and his wife, or their son. It’s not that anything’s said, the opposite in fact. It’s more what’s not said. Oh, they talk about the area, what the town’s like, about the school I’ll be enrolled in, but not until after the summer break as there’s no point just going for a couple of weeks now.
They’re polite to Slick and Ella, friendly to me. But to each other? I feel I’ve stepped into a soap opera steeped in family drama.
When my phone pings with a text from Paladin telling me he’s arrived safe, I smile to myself, determined to reply later. As I watch the show play out around me, I realise how much I miss him. When Slick and El leave in the morning, I’m going to be all alone.
Just before I go to sleep, I remember I haven’t replied to Paladin. I type a quick message to Paladin, hoping we’ll can have a conversation. But my phone stays quiet. My lifeline seems a million miles away.
There’s not been a day I haven’t been close to Paladin.
Chapter Fifteen
Moira
“Well, that seemed to go alright.”
I watch Hellfire sliding out of his cut, placing it carefully on a chair, and then his hands going to the back of his neck and begin to rip his tee over his head. “You think?” I snarl. “And just what do you think you’re fucking doing?”
He pauses, mid-action, his hand comically frozen halfway over his head with a handful of material bunched in it. “I’m coming to bed.”
“You sleep at the club.”
He releases his hold on the shirt, and comes over to where I’m already snuggled under the sheets. “I do sleep at the club. When it’s more convenient. But this is my home, and my place is here with you.” He stares at me, I stare back. Until I can no longer meet those intense eyes. The ones that used to watch me with such longing, with such hunger. “You’re saying I’m not welcome in my own bed? What the fuck, Mo?”
I don’t want him here if my suspicions are right, and he’s normally warming someone else’s sheets instead. But I also don’t have the nerve to come out and ask him. My suspicions are bad enough. Having them confirmed, I’d have no choice but to leave him. Whatever his faults, he’s still the one that makes my heart beat fast, I still love him. Whether I could turn that emotion off if I knew for sure he was unfaithful, I’ve no idea. I just wouldn’t be able to be anywhere near him.
Instead of answering, I turn over, keeping well to my side. From the sounds, I know he’s removing the rest of his clothes.
When he talks next, he returns to the first topic. “Jayden seems a sweet girl. Polite. Mature for her age.”
“Given her background that’s hardly surprising.” I’m sniping at him, but I can’t stop myself.
A pause before he replies, “No, I suppose not.”
I feel the bed dipping. A familiar sensation that makes me realise how much I missed it. “Tried to make her, and her family feel welcome.”
“You don’t think we did that?” His voice sounds confused.
“Hell, you could cut the atmosphere with a knife around that table. You’d have to be blind and deaf not to see there was something wrong.”
“Not sure I understand what you’re getting at Mo…”
I sit up fast, pulling the sheet around me. Wishing I’d put on a nightie, but I’d reckoned on sleeping alone. “So, our son has just found out you’re actually his brother and not the father he always believed you to be. He’s having difficulty coming to terms with that for some unknown reason,” I scoff. Then huff, “And as for you and I…”
His hand snakes out, grabbing onto my arm. “You and I… what, Mo?”
Reaching for my discarded robe, I pull it around me. When I’m decent, I stand, and turn, my eyes blazing. “You’re gone more than you’re here, Hell. And when you are here, you want nothing to do with me.” Tears prick at my eyes. The confrontation I wanted to avoid is steaming down on me like a freight train. It’s all my fault, I should have kept my mouth shut. Now I’ve got to face it head-on.
His head has rolled back onto the pillow. His eyes seem focused on a spot above my head. Taking in a deep breath, he sighs deeply. “It’s not what you think, Mo.”
“And what do I think, Hell?” I throw back at him. “I’ll tell you what I think. What I know. You don’t want me. You. The man with the huge sexual appetite. You haven’t wanted me for months. If you’re not getting it from me, you’re getting it somewhere else.” I reach into my pocket and pull out a tissue, blowing my nose and dabbing at my eyes.
Hell sits up fast. His naked chest taunting me. He might have aged, but I still find him as attractive as the day I married him. “I’ve not been cheating on you, Mo. I wouldn’t, couldn’t…”
I don’t believe him. “I can’t even blame you. I’ve lost any attractiveness I ever had. You married a fit young girl, you’ve ended up with an old woman. You just don’t desire me anymore.” It’s only when he shushes me, I realise how loud my voice has become. Although our visitors are down the hallway, I wouldn’t want them to hear this particular discussion. Not when it’s leading to the end of everything I ever wanted. A good marriage with my man.
“Mo, come here.” He holds out his arms. I want nothing more than to be enfolded within them. To seek the security and reassurance I need.
But I have to be strong. Now we’ve started, we’ve got to let this conversation reach its conclusion. I’ve been walking a tightrope for far too long, desperately trying to keep my balance to stop me from falling.
Seeing I’m not making a move toward him, he breathes out deeply, then says in his low, gravelly voice, “Mo. I’ve not been cheating on you. And I still find you attractive. Fuck woman, never in all the years of our marriage have I looked at anyone else.”
The one thing Hell’s always been is honest. Even when he’s telling me something he knows I won’t like. But there’s part of me, a big part, that for the first time since the day we said our wedding vows, can’t credit him with telling the truth.
He shakes his head and gives a pointed look toward the hallway. “At least come closer. I don’t want to have to shout for this conversation.”
I’m torn between leaving the bedroom and going to sleep on the sofa, or staying to listen to what I don’t want to hear. Sleep? Who am I kidding? Wherever I am, I won’t sleep a wink after this. Straightening my back a little, wondering what I can do to prepare myself to hear the words, I’m leaving you, realising fast, there’s nothing I can do to be ready for that. But I do agree. What we need to discuss isn’t for visitors’ ears.
I return to the bed, perching on my side, my back turned toward him so he won’t see the tears in my eyes.
He moves fast, his strong arms imprisoning me. His words, quietly spoken, direct into my ear. “I love you. I’m not leaving you. I’m not cheating on you. Fuck, woman. How could you think it? How could you imagine I don’t find you desirable anymore?”
I wait. In times past, he’d have proved it. Have taken my hand and placed it on his thick, hard and ready cock, before throwing me down and sinking into me. He does nothing of the
kind.
“Babe, darlin’. Oh, Mo. It’s not you, it’s me.”
“That’s what they all fucking say.” I huff out. Christ, what a cliché to come out of the mouth of my man.
He snorts. “Yeah, that came out wrong. But it’s true, Mo. I’ve been trying to deal, trying to understand, hoping it would get better. But it really is me.” He breaks off, I feel his body tense. Something tells me what he says next is going to be significant. I wait. He doesn’t disappoint. “There’s no way I can get it up anymore unless I swallow a little blue pill.”
Wait a freaking minute. What did he just say? “Hell…?”
I don’t know what expression I put into that one word, his name with the inflection that turned it into a question, but suddenly his arms leave me. He throws back the sheets, slides off his side of the bed, and stomps around to stand in front of me. Raising my eyes I see him in all his tattooed glory. He stands, one hand on his very limp dick. He’s tugging it.
“See? It’s dead as a fuckin’ dodo. No life in it anymore. Doesn’t matter if it’s you, or anyone. Not that I’ve tried,” he puts in the last quickly, “but the live porn in the clubhouse doesn’t make it stir. Nor our best strippers on the fuckin’ pole.” He drops his hands away. His dick, even limp, is impressive. “I don’t even get mornin’ wood anymore.”
Tentatively I reach out my hand. At first he steps back, then, with an exaggerated sigh, he moves forward again, allowing me to touch it. It doesn’t twitch. Just hangs there. The cock which used to reach proudly and point up toward his stomach. Idly I notice just how grey his pubic hair has become. He’s getting old. He’s not the only one.
I sink to my knees, kiss him, there, then move my mouth over his cock. Nothing.
Grasping my hair lightly, he moves my head away, then he’s on his knees beside me. “Have you any fuckin’ idea what a failure this makes me feel? What a sorry excuse for a man?”
“You’re still all man.” I tell him, trying to push my own feelings aside. Despite him telling me otherwise, I still feel this must be some fault of my own. “Perhaps if I was still younger…”
“Woman, stop that. Ain’t got fuck all to do with you. It’s me.” His hand moves under my chin, gripping it gently, forcing me to look him in the eyes. “Up here,” he taps his head, “I still find you as attractive as I ever have. It’s just my darn cock is broke. What kind of man can’t service his woman?” His eyes close briefly, then open again. “I’ve been scared to tell you. That’s why I’ve been hidin’ out at the club. I couldn’t face you. I can’t give you what you need. I’ve been so scared you’d leave me.”
His fears, so close to my own, make me giggle. He looks at me as though I’ve lost my mind, then shakes his head. “This,” he points at his cock laying lifeless against his thigh, “you think this is funny? Fuck, woman.”
I can’t hold back the chuckles. Staring at me as if I’m losing it, he starts to rise. I grab his hands in mine, holding them tightly. “Hell, listen to me. Do you remember the last time, Christ, how long ago was it?”
“Ten months,” he answers through gritted teeth.
“And two days,” I tell him. Well, let’s be accurate now. “It hurt me.”
He looks confused. “I thought we used enough lube.”
“Not the point, Hell. We did. I was sore anyway. So I went to the doctor. Turns out my oestrogen levels are falling, it causes thinning of the vaginal tissues, well, that’s how the doctor explained it. She gave me a cream for it.”
His face falls. “You’re okay, now? If I took a blue pill…”
“I used the cream. For a time. But it seemed to cause migraines. And when you weren’t coming near me, it didn’t seem worth it anymore.”
His head bows. His shoulders shake. Just when I’m about to ask him what’s wrong, he looks up with his eyes shining with mirth. “The reason I haven’t taken a blue pill? They give me blinding headaches after.”
Now I’m giggling uncontrollably. Moments later I’m in his arms. He leans back against the bed, and I’m sitting on the floor on his lap. We probably look ridiculous, but who cares? For the first time in months I feel I’ve got my man back with me.
“Don’t care if we can’t get physical anymore,” he tells me softly. “I’ve got all I want in my arms right here.”
“Well, it seems we could. If we arrange a time and place carefully, and stock up with Advil.”
That gets us both roaring with laughter again.
“If I could take HRT, it might have been easier…”
His arms tighten. “Don’t want you even thinking about that shit. Don’t want you putting hormones in your body. I was so fuckin’ scared.”
“It’s over now.” I say, soothingly. It had been a few years back when I’d had a tiny cancerous lump removed from my breast. They got it early, got it all out. But until I’d received the all clear, Hellfire is right. He’d been scared out of his mind. I’d been frightened as well, but him? It was a demon he couldn’t face, couldn’t fight for me. He’d ended up feeling so useless.
I pat his cheek. “I’m fine,” I reassure him. “Fine.” I’d given up smoking, started eating better. It had given us both a scare.
He frowns, “This cream…”
“Is perfectly safe. The doctor assured me. But what about you?”
The lines on his forehead deepen. “Getting old, drinking too much. Smoking. Could be stress.” His mouth quirks. “Could be I wore the darn thing out satisfying my woman.”
Now that deserves, and gets, a bat on his arm.
He stands, managing to lift me onto my feet. “Now, come to bed, Mo. Let’s hold each other like we used to.”
That sounds nice. Even that’s been a very long time.
Chapter Sixteen
Hellfire
I’m fifty-seven years old for fuck’s sake. That’s not old, just middle-aged. Yet as I hold my wife who I hadn’t lied to when I said I still find her attractive, unable to give her the loving she deserves, I feel past it. As if my life is as dead as my fucking cock.
Moira’s pretending to sleep, I can tell the difference. To be honest, I’m all talked out. It had been so tough admitting my problem to her. What man likes to feel he’s a failure? Yeah, I’d been to a doctor, knew that I was far from alone in suffering this problem. Truth is, Mo’s getting older, just like myself. Her skin, once smooth, now has wrinkles, she carries extra weight than she used to, and her stretch marks will never fade now. But she’s my wife, I love her, love the signs she’s given birth to my children, admire the way she’s aged with grace. She’s still the one my eyes first notice when I walk into a room, the younger women who’ve not lived a life like she has, somehow not having a fraction of the character that shows in her face. It’s her that I want. It always has been.
When I was twenty I would have viewed a woman of her age with disinterest, as I’ve grown older, my tastes have changed. It’s been hard to convince her that she’s the only woman for me, especially now I’m not able to physically demonstrate it.
The doctor had suggested things I can try. More exercise than just riding my bike, giving up smoking, cutting down on the drink. But fuck, I’m the president of an MC, responsible for keeping my crew in line and bringing in enough money from our businesses to keep everyone’s bellies filled. It used to not be so difficult, drug and gun running being easy money. But we’d lost enough brothers either at the end of a gun or to languish in a jail cell to go back to that.
Stress. Pressure. Yeah, the old days were hard enough, but earning money legit hasn’t brought any less of a burden. That’s my biggest problem. One that goes with being president of the club. Knowing how hard it is, how could I put that onto anyone else? I wonder if Demon’s considering my offer. He’d be a fool to take it on if I’m honest. As for myself? I’d made the offer rashly, despite everything, I know deep down I’m not ready to step down from my place at the head of the table.
These last couple of days have been fucked up. Christ knows
where Demon’s head’s at, and as for myself and Mo, we’re forced to face up to issues we’d thought were lost in time. Pressure? Stress? Can’t see life getting much easier. Not in the short-term at least. My cock doesn’t look like it will have any life in it anytime soon, or not without artificial help. Maybe never. I can only hope I can hang onto my wife.
Eventually I can feel Mo’s actually sleeping. I ease my arm out from under her head and try to get comfortable. It’s a long time before I drop off myself.
I wake early. Slipping out of the bed I leave without waking her. There’s no need for her to get up, not yet. I’ll get coffee going, at this hour, no one else will be stirring. Or that’s what I believe until I encounter Slick in the kitchen. He’s already got a mug of coffee in his hand.
“Morning.” I push my bed-head hair back out of my eyes. My nostrils twitch at the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. “Enough there for me?”
“Yeah. Help yourself.” Slick grins sheepishly. “It’s your kitchen after all.”
I pour a coffee, and inhale its life-giving perfume. “Bed comfortable?” I’m wondering if it’s not. I didn’t expect him to be up this early.
“Bed’s great. Thanks for putting us up. Just worried, that’s all.”
Immediately I guess at the heart of his problem, his concerns forcing me to put mine aside. “Kid will be fine with us, Slick. Honestly, Mo will be glad of the company around here. She’s been at a bit of a loss since the kids left home.”
He nods slowly. “I’m sure you’ll look after her well. It’s just, ever since I’ve known her, we’ve had to watch out for her, you know? Her safety is so important. Kind of feels like I’m abdicating my duties leaving her with somebody else.”
“You’re still watching out for her. From what you’ve said, getting her out of the reach of the Herreras is the key to keeping her safe. You’re not abandoning her.”
Satan's Devils MC Colorado Boxset 1 Books 1 - 3 Page 14
