by A. M. Myers
Travis
Something has changed.
I scoff as the thought runs through my mind because it seems like our whole lives have been turned upside down in the two days since the protestors first showed up but in this instance, I’m talking about Rowan and me. As I stare out at the protestors lining the street, I lean back in my chair and think over the past two days since they first showed up, trying to find the moment that it all changed but I can’t make any sense of it. She left my room that morning and we were good, better than ever and the way she smiled and pressed her lips to mine is burned into my memory but by the time people started gathering outside of the clubhouse, she was different. Her big ass sunglasses may have hidden her eyes from me but it didn’t matter because it was evident in the way she avoided looking at me and the way her body slumped like she was in pain. But, why? Even when she hugged me after Storm went off, I could feel this distance between us that was never there before and it hasn’t gotten any better since. Every single touch, every single kiss reveals the fracture in our relationship but I don’t know what to do to fix it.
Sighing, I shake my head, unable to pull my eyes from the street where the protestors are still going strong as I take a sip of my beer and my stomach turns. Yesterday, the size of the crowd doubled from the day before and the same thing happened today. It’s gotten so bad that Rodriguez sent officers over to make sure everyone remained civil… or as civil as you can be when an entire mob thinks you are monsters and wants to run you out of town. He also informed us that Sergeant Williams wouldn’t be giving up on her investigation anytime soon and it’s a safe bet that she’s got guys watching us right now. With everything going on, it’s not fucking ideal but, despite what the city of Baton Rouge thinks now, we’re not monsters and we haven’t done anything wrong.
“Don’t you wish you could just march over there and yell at them that we’re innocent and being set up by a psycho?” Fuzz asks, leaning back in his chair with a sigh before taking a sip of his own beer. I nod.
“Every fucking minute of every fucking day.”
Storm sighs. “It probably doesn’t look great that we’re all sitting out here, drinking beer and watching them like we find this amusing or something.”
Amusing is the last word I would use to describe this shit show. Our city has turned on us in an epic way and I honestly don’t know how we can come back from this, how we ever get back to business as usual.
“What are we supposed to do?” I ask, resisting the urge to ball up my fist. The last thing we need is for any of us to look angry or aggressive out in the open, where the crowd can see us. It would only reinforce their beliefs if we showed the same rage they saw in the videos. “Are we supposed to hide inside until this is all over?”
“I’m sure that is what Warren would like us to do,” Fuzz quips, his lip pulling back into a snarl for a brief second before he collects himself. “He wants us trapped and acting irrationally.”
Blaze nods, his brows furrowed as he watches the people in the street scream at us and takes a sip of his own beer before sighing. “Makes all of us easier to slaughter.”
“You all right, boss?” I ask, glancing over at him. He’s been unusually quiet since last night when he called all of the guys into the war room to go over a game plan. We didn’t come up with much of anything, though. Turning back to the crowd, I sigh. “Besides the obvious, I mean.”
“Yeah… no… I don’t know. I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”
Storm frowns. “Like what?”
“My legacy,” he answers, a deep, haunting sadness creeping into his eyes as he turns to look at the clubhouse. “This place, the club… it was never meant to be the mess it became before we made the decision to turn things around and when I got shot eight years ago, I thought that was it. I thought my legacy was going to be a piece of shit that sold guns and drugs to selfishly make himself as much money as possible. And then, I got a second chance. I’ve worked so hard to turn things around since then…”
“And you have, Blaze,” I tell him, my brows furrowed as I glance over at my brothers. They look as bewildered as I feel. Blaze shakes his head.
“It won’t matter. After all the work we’ve done to turn things around and all the good we’ve done for the people of this community, this is what we’re going to be remembered for.”
“You can’t think like that, boss.”
Blaze sighs and shakes his head again. “We have to be realistic, boys. Even if the protestors go away, even if we manage to prove our innocence and Williams drops her case against us, the name Bayou Devils MC will always have people in this city whispering. There is no way back and, in that sense, Warren has succeeded in his mission to tear this club apart.”
“No… Blaze…”
“I don’t like it anymore than you do, Streak, but it is what it is. All we can do now is adapt, forge ahead, wade through the mud and hopefully, when we get to the other side, we’ll have enough pieces to rebuild.”
“What are you really saying?” I ask him and he stares off into the crowd for a moment before shaking his head and dropping his gaze to the pavement in front of him as he takes a long pull of his beer before tossing the empty bottle in the trash can next to us.
“I don’t know, Streak. I don’t have anymore answers than you do but I just can’t shake this feeling…”
Storm frowns. “What feeling?”
“Nothing,” he says as he stands up and sighs. “I’m just a sad old man and not good company tonight. I’ll see y’all tomorrow.”
Without another word, he walks back toward the clubhouse and I turn back to Fuzz and Storm as they both shake their heads, their eyes haunted with Blaze’s comments. Not that I can blame them. It was heavy shit and it has me so concerned for the future of my club.
“You know,” Storm whispers. “I think I’m gonna head to my room, too.”
Fuzz nods. “Yeah, I need to go find my wife.”
They both stand up and tell me good night before walking back to the clubhouse and I sigh, my chest aching as I sink further into my seat and take a sip of my beer as I stare at the protestors. The sun is starting to set and soon, they’ll start getting lanterns out and continue yelling into the night before finally crawling into their tents to get some sleep only to start all over again tomorrow. Now that the officers are here, we’ve been able to leave the clubhouse to run errands like grocery shopping which Tate, Blaze, and Emma did today so we’re set to withstand the onslaught for a while but I hope it ends soon. The people in the street, they unknowingly taunt me with my inability to catch Warren or even figure out who he really is and each moment I have to listen to their chants, the more I feel like I’m going crazy.
I need Rowan.
“What the fuck did you do to my sister?!”
I turn as Kodiak charges out of the clubhouse with Tate right on his heels, desperately trying to grab him and stop him but he just brushes her off each time, his eyes blazing as he charges right for me. The ache in my chest is deeper when I think about the distance between us these past two days and the spark that has been missing from her eyes as I shake my head at him.
“Uh… nothing.”
His lip curls back. “Bullshit. You did something to her.”
“Lincoln,” Tate urges, grabbing his arm as he stops in front of me and I peek a glance over at the crowd, which has grown suspiciously quiet.
“This is not a good place to do this, brother.”
“Don’t fucking call me that right now, you little fuck,” he snaps, balling his fists at his sides. “The only reason I’m not snapping every single one of your fingers right now is because I promised Rowan I wouldn’t unless I saw her crying because of you, which I haven’t, but she hasn’t been acting normal so whatever the fuck you did, fix it. And if you break her heart or hurt her in any way, so help me God, I will fucking end you. Are we clear?”
My gaze flicks back to Tate and she chews on her bottom lip as she flashes me a wide-eyed l
ook. I consider telling him that our relationship is casual before Storm’s comment about him dropping me off of the roof pops into my mind. Instead, I nod. “I got it.”
“Good. I saw her going up to the roof ten minutes ago to read.”
“You’re ordering me around now?” I ask, arching a brow and he takes a menacing step toward me. I hold my hands up in surrender before I set my bottle of beer down and stand up. “Fine. I’m fucking going.”
“Not one goddamn tear, Streak,” he calls after me as I walk toward the clubhouse and I raise my hand to let him know I heard him. Emma and Quinn are lounging on the couch when I slip inside, watching their kids play around them and I nod to them before walking over to the stairs and taking them two at a time. I have no fucking clue what I’m going to say to Rowan or how I’m going to get her to open up and tell me what is bothering her but I know I have to. The distance between us is killing me and it has to be doing to same to her so I’ll do whatever it takes.
Opening the door to the roof, I step outside and she glances over her shoulder at me from the air mattress that has been up here since the night I surprised her with star gazing. A range of emotions flicker through her eyes before her brows knit together and pain swarms her gray depths. It only lasts a second, a fraction of one even, before she regains her composure and turns away from me. It doesn’t matter though because it was enough to confirm for me that this isn’t all in my head.
But what the fuck is going on?
“Hey,” I say, rubbing my sweating palms on the side of my jeans as I close the distance between us and sink onto the mattress next to her. “What are you doing?”
She holds her book up. “Reading.”
Fuck.
Now what the hell do I say to her?
I try to come up with something to say, something witty that will make her say more than a couple of words to me or hell, at this point, I would settle for something that will make her angry enough to start talking but my mind is completely blank. Peeking over at her, I watch her read her book and remember her doing the same thing in my bed as I worked. Each time she would feel me looking at her and glance up, offering me a smile before she turned back to the page in front of her but now, she won’t even give me even a sliver of attention.
“You want to go back to my room and watch a movie?”
She shakes her head. “Maybe later.”
“Well,” I muse, nudging her with my shoulder. “Can I get a kiss?”
Looking up, she turns to me and searches my eyes for a second before leaning forward and pressing her lips to mine but there is no feeling behind it. All of the fire and connection that was there two days ago is gone and when she turns back to her book, I rake my hands through my hair before turning to look out at the horizon.
You know what?
Fuck this.
I’m not this fucking pathetic and I’m crazy about this girl so we’re going to hash everything out right now. As I glance over at her again, I decide to go with the angry option since she always reveals more than she means to when she’s all fired up, and swipe her book out of her hand. Her head snaps up and she levels a glare at me.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Closing the book and tucking it under my arm, I shrug. “Getting your attention.”
“Congrats, you got it. Now give me the book back,” she snaps, holding her hand out expectantly and I search her gaze. She’s mad but not mad enough to spill the beans so I flash her a grin and shake my head.
“No.”
Pain flashes through her eyes again and she turns away from me as she stands up. “Fine. I think I’m going to go to bed.”
“Hell no,” I growl, shooting to my feet and grabbing her arm as she tries to walk away from me. I spin her around to face me but she stares at the floor and shifts her weight from one foot to the other before going back again. My throat constricts, feeling painfully tight, as my thoughts spin.
Why is she doing this to me?
“Rowan,” I whisper, cupping her cheek and she grips my hand with both of hers as they tremble. I force her head up but her eyes are closed, blocking me from her thoughts. “What is going on, baby?”
“I can’t do this.” Freeing herself from my grip, she turns to go back inside and gasps, stopping in her tracks as she looks out at the street. I scowl, taking a tentative step toward her.
“What’s wrong?”
She points out to the street and I follow her hand. There, in the middle of the crowd, stands Warren in his white mask and dressed in all black. The other protestors mill around him like he doesn’t even exist and he has his head tipped back, staring straight at Rowan and me. Eliminating the distance between us, I wrap my arms around her and press a kiss to the side of her head.
“Time to go inside, Princess.”
She shakes her head and turns back to me. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
“This isn’t a negotiation,” I argue, arching a brow as I dare her to defy me with a look. Unfortunately, she does. Crossing her arms over her chest, she mimics my expression and shifts her weight to one foot as she pops her hip out. God, I love this side of her but I’m not backing down. I don’t want her out here with Warren down there, even if there is a fence, a crowd of people, a building, and the entire club between them. The thought of him even looking at her makes me want to put my fist through a wall and all his taunts about making her his come rushing back to me.
I need to get her somewhere safe.
When she still won’t back down, I shrug and grab her, tossing her over my shoulder before turning and heading for the stairs.
“Put me down!” she yells, pounding her fists against my ass but I don’t give a shit. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her and she can be mad at me all she wants. Ignoring her tantrum, I carry her down the stairs and turn toward my room before ducking inside, shutting the door and locking it. Once we’re safely inside, I let her go, sliding her body down mine and when she lands on her feet, her breath catches in her throat as our eyes meet.
There it is.
Our spark, our connection is back, and it swirls through the air around us as my heart pounds in my chest and everything that has been off for the past two days clicks into place. Our breaths tangle together in the space between us and we inch closer, neither one of us able to stop it or pull our gazes away and when she places her hand on my chest, the feeling radiates throughout my entire body.
“Rowan,” I whisper, brushing my thumb over her cheek as her eyes flutter closed like she’s savoring every second of it and I lean in, letting my lips brush over hers. She gasps, jerking back and shaking her head as she grips my shirt in her fist.
“I… can’t. I’m so sorry.”
“Why?” I ask, struggling to take a breath over the ache throbbing through me at her rejection. When she doesn’t answer me, I reach for her but she releases my shirt and pulls away, her eyes shut tight as she continues shaking her head. “What’s going on, Rowan? What is happening between us? I need to know because I fucking hate this and… I miss you, Princess.”
Her eyes snap open and the tears in her eyes steal the air from my lungs. “I can’t do this.”
“Rowan,” I repeat as she turns toward the door and unlocks it. My feet are glued to the floor and as much as I want to go after her as she pulls the door open and slips into the hallway, I can’t move, too stunned to do anything but gape at her retreating form as everything inside me crumbles.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Rowan
“This is hell,” I whisper to myself as I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. The sky is clear today and the sun beats down on me as the protestors on the street below continue their screaming for the fourth day in a row but in a weird way, I’m kind of getting used to their constant berating. My gaze travels over the crowd before landing on the real source of my unease – Warren.
He’s not chanting.
He’s not screaming.
He’s not holding up a sign that tells us all to leave town immediately.
He’s just standing there in the middle of the protestors and staring up at me.
Apparently, after Travis and I first saw him last night, he informed the others and Blaze called Rodriguez to go grab him but by the time he made it through the mass of people, our mystery stalker was gone. When he showed up again this morning, we called again and Rodriguez went after him but somehow, he managed to slip away before Diego could get to him and at this point, he has told us that he’ll keep an eye out but we need to stop calling him. I think the guys would be mad except there isn’t really anything Rodriguez could do if he did catch Warren. As far as anyone outside of this building is concerned, he’s just a man protesting in a mask and there is nothing illegal about that.
It would be nice to finally know who he really is, though.
Sighing, I turn away from the crowd but Warren’s eyes seem to burn straight through me still and it makes my skin fucking crawl. A part of me wants to go back inside but the other part doesn’t want to leave this spot when going inside means being cooped up with Travis. And I can’t do anything around him without feeling like my heart is being smashed into a thousand pieces. Avoiding him takes every ounce of willpower I possess but it hurts. Every second that I spend across the room from him, telling myself not to glance in his direction is hell but being in his arms again, kissing him when I know the end is coming for us is pure agony. My mind drifts to the moment we shared in his room last night and tears sting my eyes. I can’t be with him and it kills me to be without him so I’ll just keep hiding up here on the roof, avoiding everyone, until I get a handle on my emotions.
Or hell freezes over.
I’m not sure which one will come first.
The door to the roof opens and my heart jumps into my throat as I glance over my shoulder before releasing a breath as Tate steps outside. She flashes me a smile and I do my best to return it but I know it looks forced. There is a gleam of determination in her eyes as she marches over to me and plops down next to me on the air mattress. My belly flips.
