Baja (Fallen Ravens MC #3)

3. Alice

3

ALICE

My heart pumps so fast it makes me choke on my next breath. I need fresh air, and I need to get the hell out of here. I don’t dare look back as my feet carry me away from Baja’s bedroom. The ringing in my ears is palpable, and my entire body has gone numb.

I feel… alive yet terrified at the same time.

It’s all too much.

I’ve got to go somewhere to process what I’ve done.

Oh, God, Alice, what have you done?

On my way through the clubhouse, I seek out Ophelia but come up empty. I don’t bother to stop and look for her, and I don’t bother to find Sukie to tell her I’m leaving.

The second I push through the clubhouse door, the night air assaults my skin. I take a shaky breath as a shudder wracks my entire body while standing in the open doorway. Then suddenly, that tingling sensation is back, and because that man somehow has a strange hold on me, I look over my shoulder. Once again, those intense amber eyes hold me captive. Baja is standing at the mouth of the hallway I just ran from, his arms crossed over his chest, his hair mused from where my hands were in it, and his expression is one I have no trouble reading. It’s a look that says he’s not done with me. At that moment, I don’t want him to be done. And that terrifies me.

So, as much as I want to stay and drown myself in whatever silent promise Baja has made, I can’t. What happened tonight was a mistake.

As if Baja can read my thoughts, a flash of disappointment crosses his face.

Though the idea of disappointing Baja fills me with dread, my fear wins in this situation, and I walk away. My heart breaks a little more with each step I take toward my truck, yet that’s another set of emotions I refuse to acknowledge.

When I reach my truck, I open the door and slide in. As I stick the key into the ignition, I glimpse myself in the rearview mirror. What I see causes me to freeze. My hair is messy in that ‘I just had sex’ kind of way. My eyes are glossy but bright. My face is flushed with a tinge of pink staining my cheeks, and my lips look plump and like they have been thoroughly kissed. I look… beautiful. I can’t help but stare at myself for several more beats.

When did I last look at myself in the mirror and feel… beautiful?

I startle at laughter and look out the window to see the two women dancing earlier spill out of the clubhouse in their short skirts and crop tops. I can’t help but notice how stunning both women are and how both carry an air of confidence.

That’s precisely the kind of woman I imagine Baja going for. So why me?

Shaking those thoughts away, I start the truck, and the engine roars to life. The clock on the dash reads 3:37 a.m. I reach for my purse in the passenger seat, dig out my cell, and shoot off a quick text to Sukie, letting her know I’m on my way home and will text when I make it safely. I don’t wait for her to respond. All I can think about is getting out of here before I do something even more stupid, like go back inside and find Baja.

Who am I kidding, though? He’s probably already forgotten about me and is looking for someone to take care of him since I ran from his room like my ass was on fire the second he got me off. I do feel guilty for leaving him like I did. I mean, there was no denying how turned on he had been. I felt every hard inch of him against me. But then again, Baja’s actions tonight had been all about me. He made that much clear. That’s something else I’m not used to. Baja ignored his own pleasure and instead focused on mine. The concept is almost foreign to me.

My husband had only ever been about getting himself off. He had a way of making me feel like my pleasure didn’t matter like I was just a body to climb on top of and use. Sex with my husband became a chore, and I found no joy in the act.

At the start of our relationship, he’d convinced me that I was the problem. But then I started to take care of myself on my own. I knew then that was not the case. The problem was I had married a selfish prick who couldn’t find a G-spot even if I had given him a flashlight and a map. The worst, though, was when my husband would come home drunk in the middle of the night and climb into our bed, smelling of alcohol and cheap perfume, and have the audacity to think I’d want to have sex.

When it first happened, I would shove him away and tell him I wasn’t in the mood, but he’d get angry and toss around a few nasty insults. However, later in our marriage, after the verbal abuse had turned physical, I found myself giving in. The consequences then were much worse.

The nightmarish reel that plays on a loop in my brain is paused when I’m suddenly blinded by blue flashing lights in my rearview mirror. My heart beats excessively for an entirely different reason, and my face breaks out into a cold sweat. New memories come flashing back, making me panic.

With a shaky hand, I flip the blinker and prepare to pull over, but before I complete the action, the police cruiser merges over and flies past me. My shoulders sag, and some tension weighing me down leaves my body. “You’re fine, Alice. The cop wasn’t there for you. He was on his way to an emergency. Just breathe,” I say the words repeatedly to myself for several more miles until finally, my house comes into view, and I reach my driveway. As soon as I park in front of the porch, the security lights kick in and illuminate the entire yard.

The security system was something Harlem had installed when Sukie was still at home, and I have never been more grateful for it than I am right now. I’m happy for my daughter and that she’s finally spread her wings and flown the coop, but coming home alone in the middle of the night can be scary, especially since I don’t live in town.

Before exiting the truck, my eyes sweep the yard on instinct. A smile stretches across my face when I spot a fluffy ball of orange fur perched on the porch railing. A few weeks ago, I found the tabby out back by the greenhouse. He had looked a little worse for wear and was underweight. Not anymore. He’s filled out nicely since I’ve been feeding him.

The cat meows when I make my approach, so I give him a scratch under his chin. “It’s still a little early for breakfast. You’re going to have to wait a while longer.” The cat lets out another meow in protest, but I know he’ll be here at six o’clock waiting for his fix.

When I step inside the house, I reset the alarm and then go down the hall to my bedroom. I’m too wired for sleep and decide to take a long, hot shower. Before entering the bathroom, I check my phone to see if Sukie has texted back.

Sukie : Mom, is everything okay? Do you want me to come over? Call me when you get home.

I shoot off a quick reply.

Mom : I’m fine, sweetheart. I was tired, so I decided to come home. Sorry. I would have told you, but I didn’t know where you and Harlem had snuck off to, and I didn’t want to bother you. I’ll call you later. I’m about to shower and sleep. Love you.

Sukie’s reply is instant.

Sukie: Okay. Talk to you later. Love you, too.

I set the phone on the dresser and strip off my clothes before tossing them in the hamper. Padding over to the shower, I turn the water on and let it heat up while I wash my face and brush my teeth. I step into the tub and under the spray of hot water. Closing my eyes, I tip my head back and let out a deep sigh as my mind drifts back to being in that bedroom with Baja. The memory of his hands on my body causes my core to tighten. I gasp when flashes of Baja’s handsome face assault my brain.

The hungry look in his eyes was palpable.

I run my palms over the tops of my nipples and relish the heavy feel of my breasts. I imagine it’s his hands on me and not my own. Then I skim one hand further south, over my tummy, until I reach my center. A moan escapes past my parted lips, and I’m shocked at how close to the edge I am when my finger glides over the top of my clit. That’s all it takes for me to come apart.

Never in my life have I come so fast or been this turned on at the sheer thought of any man. Hell, I haven’t even touched myself in years—there has been no desire. In one night, Baja has single-handedly reignited a flame inside me that I thought was forever burned out. He has brought something back to life inside me, something that has been missing.

And that thought alone terrifies the ever-living hell out of me.

Later that morning, I’m lying in bed, attempting to get some sleep. I roll over and peer at the clock on the bedside table to see it’s almost seven. Since I know sleep will ultimately evade me, I decide to make breakfast and get an early start on my day. Climbing out of bed, I slip my feet into my slippers and snag the robe draped across the chair in front of the window. Brushing the curtain aside, I look out at the dew-covered grass. The sun peeks through the trees with the promise of a beautiful day. Days like today are perfect for working in the greenhouse.

Over the years, the greenhouse has become my sanctuary. I had difficulty finding a job when I was released from prison six years ago. The people of Salem were not forgiving, and nobody was jumping at the chance to offer one.

While I was away, Sukie opened Belladonna’s. She struggled with splitting her time at the shop while also making time to work in the greenhouse and make the products she sells. It only seemed natural that I stepped in to help. The truth is, I don’t think there is anything in the world I’d rather be doing. I’m much better with plants than I am with people.

Working from home was safer. It kept me from judgmental eyes and back-handed comments people whispered about me behind my back.

My daughter, on the other hand, was not so lucky. A knot forms in the pit of my stomach as I recall the years of bullying she endured because of me. I also remember how she tried hiding it from me. She did a damn good job at it too. The only time she couldn’t hide the harassment was when people had the nerve to bring it to our doorstep.

There is no way to describe the kind of pain a parent feels when they are helpless to protect their own child.

Those days are over now, thanks to Harlem and the club. Knowing Sukie can breathe easy and is now treated with respect is why I will forever be indebted to the Fallen Ravens.

After my first cup of morning coffee and baking a small batch of muffins, I change into cut-off shorts and an old, long-sleeved flannel and slip my sock-covered feet into my rubber boots. On my way out, I grab the bag of cat food sitting by the front door. My new friend eagerly greets me, looking for his breakfast. “See, I didn’t forget about you.” I smile when the cat runs over to his food bowl and circles it. “There you go.” I pour a hefty amount into his dish.

With my second cup of coffee in hand, I make my way to the greenhouse. When I open the door, the smell of wet soil and lavender fills my senses. The first thing I do is take stock of what’s needed since I will be making my weekly run to the nursery tomorrow. Then, I immerse myself in preparing soil for some lemon balm.

“Hey, Mom.”

I stop what I’m doing and turn to Sukie walking in. I smile. “Hey, sweetheart.” I pull a rag from my back pocket and wipe my hands. “I wasn’t expecting you to come by so early.” When I am within arm’s reach, I pull her in for a hug.

“I know, but I wanted to come check on you. Make sure you are feeling all right.”

I notice Sukie giving me a funny look—one I can’t quite decipher. I ignore it and give her my brightest smile. “I’m fine, sweetheart. You know me, I’m not used to late-night partying.” I laugh. “Your momma is too old for all that,” I tease.

Sukie shakes her head and smirks. “You’re not old, Mom. You’re just not used to living.”

I can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness at her comment. It must play out on my face because Sukie immediately chastises herself. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean it like that.”

I reach out and touch her shoulder. “It’s okay, honey. I know you didn’t. But it doesn’t mean it’s not true. I’m working on it, though. I promise.”

Sukie opens her mouth again as if she wants to say something but then closes it.

“What is it?” I ask.

Sukie bites her bottom lip—it’s her tell for when she’s hiding something. “If something was happening with you, you’d tell me, right?”

Her question makes me pause, and I wonder if she saw something last night. But that’s impossible because she was nowhere to be seen when I left the clubhouse. I mentally brush that thought away. “Of course, honey, but there’s nothing to report.” I let the lie roll off my tongue because I’m embarrassed by what happened last night. God knows what my daughter would think of me if she found out I had fooled around with one of Harlem’s brothers.

These past few months, I have been working on being more social and including myself in Sukie’s new circle of friends. I want to be present for my daughter, but old habits are hard to break. I’ve spent the last six years hiding away from the world, so it will take time for me to feel comfortable in big social gatherings. I sure as hell didn’t intend to broaden my horizons by letting a twenty-something man get me off.

Desperate to not think about my predicament, I change the subject. “Hey, I made some muffins this morning if you want to take some home to Harlem.”

Sukie’s face brightens. “Blueberry with white chocolate chunks?” she asks hopefully.

I wrap my arm around her shoulder. “Yep. Your favorite.”

“Is there enough for me to take some to Luca? Last time you made some, I had to fight him for one.”

I tip my head back and laugh. “Don’t worry, I made extra.” We walk toward the house. “Come on, I’ll wrap some to-go so you’re not late for work.”

“You’re the best, Mom,” she boasts.

“Well, I do try.”