by Deja Voss
I carry her up to the bedroom and set her down on the edge of the bed gently, like a precious vase. I wonder if she knows that when I’m fucking her, I’m really making love to her.
Hearing her moans as I pull down her top and take her nipples in my mouth, the way her back arches when I kiss down her stomach and part her thighs, the way she grabs my hair when I lick between her legs, drawing out an orgasm with just a flick of my tongue, it makes me feel like I’m home, like I’m safe, like I’m completely in control of my life and this is exactly where I need to be.
I sink my dick deep inside her, our hips mashing off each other in perfect rhythm, eyes locked, my hands tangled in her hair, her fingers digging into my back, pulling me in over and over.
I fucking love this woman more than anything in the world. To be inside her is the greatest gift anyone has ever given me.
I fill her with my cum and cover her mouth with mine as she moans and hugs me tight like she wants to stay like this forever.
In this moment, I could stay like this forever. There’s a lot of shit I have to deal with before forever gets to come, though. I just hope she knows my love for her isn’t temporary.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Brass:
* * *
“Hello?” I stammer into the phone. The bedroom is pitch black, the cool breeze blowing in through the window sending a chill over my body. Jewel’s wrapped around me like a boa constrictor, and I carefully try to untangle myself from her without waking her up.
“Micheal, I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all day.”
I grunt and roll out of bed, slipping out into the hallway as quietly as I can. “What is it?” I ask my father’s lawyer.
“I have great news for you. Your father is going to be released at the end of the week.”
Fuck. I run my fingers through my hair and try not to punch the wall. I thought I had more time to figure things out.
“He’s really looking forward to catching up with you. I bet you can’t wait to see him.”
I don’t know how much longer I can let this lie I’ve been living fester. The only reason why my father is getting out of prison is because of me.
If only they would’ve let me testify in court back when he was on trial, but I was just a kid. I was just a kid, and technically I didn’t see anything.
I was just a kid who just lost his mother, and the lawyers told me I was going to lose my dad, too, and being a tiny little dork all alone in the world was scary. I didn’t want to believe my dad killed my mom, even though that’s what everybody kept telling me.
I did what they said and kept my mouth shut. I never told anybody but them about the fight or the broken lamp or the gun my dad kept in the drawer. I never told anybody about the times he threw her down the steps or the times she had to call off work for a week because her face was so unrecognizable from all the bruises.
I thought I was doing the right thing at the time. I thought if I did what my dad wanted, we could go back to normal.
I was so fucking selfish, and he ended up serving a thirty year sentence anyway. I got tossed from foster home to foster home so many times, eventually everybody forgot I was the murderer’s son.
Not only did my mom never get the justice she deserved, but I dishonored her by standing up for my dad.
As an adult, I know how fucked up that is, but I never made it right. I just avoided it. Let it fester. Dumped all my energy into the MC, into making myself strong as fuck and big as a bull.
I didn’t visit him in prison. I didn’t answer his letters or pick up his phone calls. I knew the easiest way to hurt him was to do whatever I could to not feed his need for attention.
Now he’s getting out of jail and he thinks we’re gonna spend the rest of our lives doing father son bonding. Knowing that he was working with Floyd on the inside doesn’t lead me to believe he’s been rehabilitated in there.
“Are you there?” the lawyer asks.
“Sorry,” I mumble, clearing my throat. I should tell him right now I don’t want anything to do with my dad. It’s time for me to step up and be a man. The only problem is, no matter how I handle this situation, he’s going to come find me.
And when he does, he’s going to come find Jewel, too.
And if that happens, there’s no telling what kind of havoc he’s going to wreak on her life. I don’t know if I’ll be able to protect her every second of every day. I don’t want her to
The only way I can solve this is getting as far away from her as fast as possible. I’ll go down to New Orleans and do some work for Elrik. I’m sure he could use an extra hand. I’ll pack my bags and my drama and take it to a totally different state. Maybe in a few years things will settle down and I can come back here where I belong.
I don’t expect her to wait for me, but if she does, I’ll give her the life of her wildest dreams. Nothing will ever get in between us again.
It pains me to look at her sleeping there, knowing this will probably be our last night together for a long time.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jewel:
“I don’t want to be a nag,” I say, rolling over on my stomach. His hand caresses my ass cheek, pulling me closer. I love the way he can’t keep his hands off my body. I love that we can hang out in bed, butt ass naked, and not have to worry about somebody breezing in to check on me. I love that even though we’re not forced together by a circumstance, we still can’t be pried apart. “I was thinking about stuff today, and I was thinking maybe you could… keep your toothbrush here?”
He blows on his hand and smells it. “I don’t think my breath is that bad.”
I laugh and roll over closer to him, kissing him on his square jaw, the subtle stubble on his chin scraping my face, reminding me of the brush burn between my thighs thanks to him.
“I mean, not just your toothbrush. Your stuff. I mean like move in with me,” I blurt out. “I know this house isn’t ideal, but it’s gotta be better than your room in the clubhouse. This house is just so big and lonely and you spoiled me so bad the last few months, I don’t think I like being by myself all the time anymore.”
He pulls me close to him, tucking his arm under me so my head is resting on my chest. He plays with my hair, twirling it between his fingers. “Did you think about maybe getting a dog?” he asks.
“I mean, no, but I guess I could. I don’t dislike dogs.”
Things have been going so good, and he spends pretty much every waking hour here anyway, I really thought he’d jump at the chance to move in. I know he’s all in. I know I’m all in, and I’m ready to start taking things to the next level. Living together for real just seems like the natural first step.
“Maybe we can go down to the shelter tomorrow and pick one out. I haven’t had a dog since I was a kid.”
“Okay, we’ll get a dog, but you’re going to move in here and help me take care of him, right?”
“We can all pitch in and make sure he’s fed and walked and taken care of when you’re not around.”
This conversation isn’t even kind of going like I planned. I can’t tell if he’s messing with me, or if he really just doesn’t want to move in, and I suddenly feel incredibly awkward and naked.
I get up from the bed and pull on some shorts and a t-shirt, sliding into my slippers and throwing my robe on.
“Where are you going?” he asks. “Come lay with me.” He pats the bed and gives me those eyes that usually make me melt.
“Tell me why you don’t want to live with me,” I say.
“I just can’t right now, Jewel. I have a lot of shit going on in my life, and I need to be at the clubhouse.”
“Well then I can just move in there,” I suggest. There isn’t enough money in the world to get me to move into that nasty fucking place. I love the guys, but I don’t need to walk down the hallway to use the bathroom and see Lazarus and his flavor of the week shooting bodily fluids all over the place. I definitely don’t want to accidentally walk in on Br
uiser in the bathroom. It’s bad enough working there, but if I lived there, I think my skin would constantly feel like it’s crawling. The only thing that place is good for is the convenience factor for the guys who are still hooking up with sweet butts. I just want to see what he has to say about it all.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he says.
“And why not?” I ask, my voice trembling. I haven’t been back to work yet, but I’m cleared to start tomorrow. He’s never been the kind of guy who picked up random ass, but maybe I just wasn’t paying enough attention.
Never since the day we started hooking up did I doubt this man or his loyalty to me. He never gave me a reason to. Now I feel like I’m the butt of some joke that went straight over my head.
“Babe, I’m going to give you the life of your wildest dreams. I’m gonna marry you. I’m gonna give you babies. I’m gonna be the best fucking man you ever knew. I’m gonna love you til the day I croak. I just can’t do all that right now.”
“I don’t know what that means,” I say.
He sits up and starts putting his socks on. I don’t know why, but I feel like he’s not just leaving to take a walk. I feel like if I let him go out that door, something really bad is going to happen.
“You’re going to find out, Jewel. I love you more than anything in this world, but right now, I have a lot of shit to work out.”
He jumps into his jeans and zips them up. He grabs his wallet off the nightstand and stuffs it in his pocket, and I just stand there in the corner holding my robe closed tight.
“Tell me what shit you have to work out,” I say. “Don’t shut me out. You were more than happy to move in the hideout with me. I didn’t even have to ask. You were just there for me while I got better. Let me be here for you while you get better.”
“I’m sorry, baby,” he says. He puts his arms around me but I pull away. I don’t want him touching me right now, not without telling me what’s going on in his brain.
“I don’t do secrets, Brass,” I say. “Barney’s secret life burned all of us. I’m not playing that game again. I don’t care how much I love you. I’m not just some damsel in distress who needs protected from every bad thing in your life. I’m your partner. I’m your equal. If you won’t let me have that, we don’t have anything here.”
He licks his lips and stares down at the floor. My body starts to tremble, and I don’t know if I want to scream or cry. I feel like it’s my fault for pushing him too fast too soon, but since we got together, everything has been fast and hot. I can’t just be imagining that.
“I just need to get away for a little bit,” he says.
My eyes start to sting. Those words hurt worse than getting hit, getting stabbed, getting maimed. He is maiming me with his words. He’s cutting out a piece of my heart that only ever belonged to him. He’s taking a piece away from me that’s more important than my ear.
“You’re hurting me,” I whisper.
“I’m saving you. You’ll see, Jewel.” His words make me feel a glimmer of hope, but the look on his face tells me he’s already gone.
He bends in to kiss me, but I push him away. I storm across the bedroom and grab his clothes, tossing them out in the hallway. I slam the door behind him.
If he wants distance, I’ll give him distance. I slide down to the floor and let my tears overtake me, crying so hard my chest feels like it’s going to cave in. I’d go to war for him. I’d kill for him. I’d do just about anything for him… if he’d let me.
But I can’t help him fight off his demons if he doesn’t even tell me what they are.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Brass:
I can feel my dad’s hands around my throat.
Not literally, like when I was a kid and he was trying to teach me a lesson.
This time, it’s much more painful. He’s taking everything I have away from me. Jewel is the air I survive on, and he’s cutting me off at the source.
I stuff my backpack with enough stuff to get me through a couple weeks. I haven’t told the guys my plan, but that’s for the better. The only person who knows where I’m going is my dad’s lawyer. I figure if I have to make him disappear, it’ll be much easier for me to avoid a charge if he’s in another state. Nobody has to know. I’m not dragging the whole MC into my family drama.
I lock the door of my room behind me, if only to give myself a reason to come back here. I’ve already come to terms with the fact that Jewel’s probably never going to forgive me, and I know any of my brothers would be more than happy to have her. She’s perfect. She deserves to be loved by a man who isn’t going to put her through hell. At least if my bedroom door is locked, though, I’ll eventually have to come back and get the rest of my stuff. I can’t just have the guys ship it up and mail it to me.
I walk down the long hallway one last time, and as soon as I step into the bar, I regret my decision to not go out the back door.
Jewel is standing at the edge of the long wooden bar, polishing a glass with a rag. Whatever air was left in my lungs is gone, and I feel like I’m drowning.
She wasn’t supposed to come back to work so soon.
She looks up at me like she’s about to say something, but quickly turns and pushes her way through the double doors that lead to the kitchen.
Fortunately, the only person sitting there is Gin, and she sneers at me. “I don’t know what the fuck you did, Brass, but I’ve never seen her like this before.”
“Just be a good friend to her, please,” I say. I hang my head and walk towards the front door.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” She stands up from her stool and starts towards me, but I walk out the door, slamming it in her face. I squint my eyes shut and breathe out a huge breath, not of relief, but of all the things I should’ve told Jewel.
I walk into the garage, where Lazarus and Rowdy are tearing apart a motor.
“Where are you going?” Laz asks.
“Nowhere,” I mutter.
“What’s the bag for?”
“It’s none of your fucking business,” I bark.
He shrugs and picks up his socket wrench.
Before I can get on my bike, Jewel appears in the doorway, her hands on her hips, her face all splotchy and red. I put on my helmet and pretend like I don’t notice her.
“Brass, you gotta talk to me,” she shouts. “You haven’t answered my calls. You haven’t answered my texts. You can’t even fucking look me in the eye? What the hell is going on?”
Every word she says feels like a knife going through my heart, just digging away at whatever bit of humanity I have left in me. I want to scoop her up and stare into her eyes for weeks. I want to pour my soul out to her. I want to give her everything in the world. Everything she deserves.
But the only way I can do that is by getting as far away from her as I possibly can.
She stomps through the garage, right over to me. Just the smell of her makes me sad and sentimental, and I haven’t even left yet.
“We can get outta here,” Rowdy says, grabbing Lazarus by the arm.
“No, I think you two should stay. I don’t care who hears this. Brass, I love you with all my heart, but you have to stop running away from your problems. You’re a full grown man now.”
“You’re not a problem, Jewel.”
She rolls her eyes. “I know you’re worried about your dad getting out of jail, but only because Gin told me.” Rowdy looks like he wants to crawl in a hole and die, and if I wasn’t so hellbent on leaving, I’d probably beat his face in for leaking my shit to his girlfriend as usual. “Gin shouldn’t have to be the one who tells me this stuff.”
“Gin doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” I growl. “I told you, I just need some space.”
“That doesn’t even sound like something you’d say, Brass. At least, not the Brass I thought I knew. The Brass I fell in love with faces his problems head on. He fights for what he believes in. He doesn’t just roll over and let the ba
d guys win.”
“Right, I handle my shit,” I say. “Which is why you need to get the hell away from me.”
“Fuck you,” she says, and Lazarus slaps his hand over his mouth. “You want to play tough guy with your muscles and your motorcycle and act like you’re this martyr? A real man knows when to ask for help. You’re a pussy, Brass.”
She throws her hands in the air and storms off, and I finish putting on my helmet and straddle my bike, revving the engine to block out the commentary from Lazarus and Rowdy.
Leaving is going to be a lot easier if I know she hates me. I might not ever love again. I’ll probably die alone. I’ll probably spend every day of the rest of my life seething with jealousy over whatever man she ends up with. It’s better than dragging her through hell with me.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Jewel:
I don’t know how to get through to him, but that obviously didn’t work.
I guess I just don’t know him at all.
I expected him to follow me, to chase me, to say anything when I freaked out on him. I expected him to fight back. Instead, I got nothing, and that’s more painful than any hurtful words or hands he could’ve laid on me.
“Baby, don’t let him get you all worked up,” Gin says, wrapping me in a hug as I walk back into the bar. I’m lucky it’s still early and there’s nobody around because I know I look like I got hit by a bus. My hands are covered in mascara and I just keep smearing it worse and worse, trying to rub these tears out of my eyes. “Let him go blow off some steam. You know he’ll come back around. It’s just how he copes with things.”
