Devil's Savior

CHAPTER 14

I’m a big ball of nerves as I wait for Apostle to come home. Once he’s here, I’ll have my Crosby back. It’s strange to have a man in my life who is like two different people, but I understand the need for it. When he’s the club brother, when he’s Apostle, he’s strong and stoic with barely restrained violence running through him.

When he’s my Crosby, he can be vulnerable and sweet. He can be everything I need him to be.

I don’t know why it took me so long to differentiate between the two. But the reality is that both sides live inside of one man, a man I know I love.

When I spoke with him this afternoon, I could hear the regret in his voice, but also his resolve. I could have chosen to be petty or to try and make him feel guilty for needing to do something for the club, but then I wouldn’t be accepting part of who he is. And I love all of him.

It was obvious that he wanted to tell me that he loves me, but I didn’t want to hear it over the phone. When we exchange those words, I want to be able to look into his dark eyes. I want to be able to wrap my arms around him and hold him close.

I want to be able to kiss his lips.

So, I didn’t let him say the words, but I let him know I knew how he felt.

We’ll say them when we’re ready and not before.

As long as he comes home to me.

My gut clenches painfully. I wasn’t able to eat and now hunger and nerves are competing in the pit of my stomach. He probably won’t be happy with me when he finds out that I didn’t eat considering how he’s always trying to take care of me.

But the thought of eating something makes me nauseated.

Maybe when he gets home, I’ll be able to make sure he’s eaten something as well. I look at the time on my phone, again, and let out a soft groan.

It’s late, far too late for me to be awake and be somewhat coherent tomorrow. But I know that if I go and lay down, I won’t be able to sleep. There’s no point in even trying.

I gaze at the flowers on the coffee table in front of me. They make me feel a little bit closer to him even though I know it’s silly. Maybe I should have gone to the compound. At least then I would have been there when he got back from whatever the club is doing.

Is it just him? How much backup does he have? Is he safe?

I shake my head to dispel the thoughts of something horrible happening to him. I refuse to manifest that kind of shit. Not now, not ever.

He will come home to me. He will be in one piece.

Anything less is unacceptable.

When Wrenley called me earlier, I could hear the worry in her voice, “Do you know what they’re up to tonight?”

I shook my head even though she couldn’t see me. My voice was a little flat, “Club business.”

Wrenley sighed, “Yeah, I don’t know either.” She paused and I could feel her gathering herself. “I love Reid with everything me, but the hardest part about loving him is sometimes not knowing what he’s doing under the guise of club business.”

That had me straightening my back. “Do you think he’s doing something that would jeopardize your relationship?”

My heart sank as I said the words. I didn’t want to believe such a thing. Hell, I didn’t even want to think such a thing. For her sake.

And mine.

“No,” Wrenley barked out a laugh, “he would never do that, and Lucifer would never ask him to. I just know that sometimes what they’re doing is dangerous. I’m always afraid that when they come back that he won’t be with them.”

I swallowed hard, but it wasn’t enough to wet my dry throat and mouth. “I know,” I whispered, not wanting to admit my own fears louder than I already was.

“I know you do,” there was compassion and understanding in her voice. “I guess that is the price we have to pay to love men who are as fierce and loyal as ours. They are good men and have their own moral code,” she mused.

“They are, but that won’t protect them from a bullet,” I sighed and instantly regretted my words. “I’m sorry,” I blurted, “don’t stress out because I said that. Stress isn’t good for the baby.”

Instead of being pissed at me, which she could have been, Wrenley laughed. “You didn’t say anything I haven’t thought myself,” she assured me.

Some of the tension eased from my shoulders, but not nearly enough. Talking to my best friend helped, but the waiting felt like it stretched before me without an end in sight.

“Crosby promised that he would come home to me in one piece,” I admitted, heat creeping up my cheeks because saying it out loud sounded ridiculous.

Wrenley’s breathing hitched. “You know,” her words were slow and measured, like she didn’t want to spook me, “he might not be able to keep that promise.”

“I know,” I whispered, my voice cracking, “but I needed to hear it all the same.”

“I get it,” she soothed me, her voice gentle. “But what you don’t want is for him to be so focused on keeping his promise that he loses sight of what he’s doing, and he gets hurt because of it, or someone else does.”

Tears welled up in my eyes and shakily admitted, “I didn’t think of it like that.”

“I know,” she assured me. “Just talk to him about it when he gets home. And he will come home,” her voice was fierce, and I found myself believing her. “Believe in him. He’s not an enforcer just because he has muscles. It’s more than that. He’s good at what he does, they all are. Give them your faith.”

Even though her words hit their mark, I huffed out a breath. “Weren’t you the same person who was worried just moments ago?”

“Oh,” her voice was lighter than it was when we started talking and it helped to buoy me, “I’m still worried, but talking to you helped to remind me that I need to believe in my man and our family.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, but her words stuck.

Thankfully, we changed the subject, and we started brainstorming about how she was going to tell Cherise about becoming a grandmother. I made Wrenley promise that I could be there because her face is going to be priceless, and I don’t want to miss it.

Even now, hours later, I know Wrenley was right. I need to believe in Crosby and his ability. He’s smart and capable. It’s not that I doubt him, really.

But I also know how quickly things can go wrong. I don’t just want him to come home to me, I need it. I need him.

When I hear the lock of the keypad on the front door disengage, I jump up. My feet move quickly out of the living room, the thought of it not being Crosby a distant consideration. But I don’t stop.

I can’t.

When he looks up, the starry night behind him and the porch light I left on illuminating flecks of blood decorating his t-shirt and skin, I don’t hesitate. I launch myself at him, knowing he’ll catch me. He hasn’t let me down since the moment I met him, even when I pushed him away.

Crosby’s burly arms wrap around me and pull me against his chest. He holds me so tight that it’s difficult to breathe. But I’ll never complain about it. Not when I need the stark reminder that I’m in his arms and that he’s home.

“Crosby,” my voice is a whisper that barely makes it past my lips as I cling as tight as I can to him.

The sound of the door closing behind him barely registers before we start moving through the house, the lights turning off around us as he moves through the space with sure steps that don’t slow or falter.

“I’m okay, Firefly,” he assured me as he kicked the door to his—our—room closed behind us.

I pulled my head away from where I had buried it in his neck when he caught me and take him in. I can see the sincerity in his words, but there’s something in his eyes that I can’t place. More darkness? It makes me feel unsettled.

Not because I’m scared of him, but because I don’t know what to do to help him. I want to help him. I want to carry some of the burden on his soul for him.

“You have blood on you,” I whisper, holding his gaze because I want him to see that I’m not afraid.

Not of him or whatever he did tonight. Not of the specs of blood he’s adorned with.

He grimaces and tries to set me down, but I just cling to him tighter. “Sioux,” his voice is choked but I just shake my head. He sighs, “Okay then.”

When he strides into his large bathroom, I can feel hesitance in each step. I hate it.

“I’m not afraid of you,” I whisper, needing to say it just as much as I think he needs to hear it.

His dark eyes are filled with surprise as his gaze snaps down to mine. “You aren’t?” I shake my head and he narrows his eyes. “Are you sure?”

The glare I give him would level a lesser man. But that’s not who my man is.

His large hand grips my ass, holding me steady as he reaches into the shower and turns it on. When he goes to lower me down, this time I allow it reluctantly. I pout up at him and one side of his mouth tips up in an almost smile.

The shadows in his eyes are still there and I hate it.

With a tug at the hem of his shirt, I try to pull it up and off his body, but I’m a little too short to complete the task. I grunt, “Gonna need your help, big guy.”

The smile he gives me this time is a little bit bigger, but not by much. “Shower with me, Firefly.”

I nod slowly, our eyes catching and holding. I pull my pajamas off my body quickly, but the connection between us, the tie that binds us together, holds firm. My gut is telling me that we both need it.

Crosby strips off the rest of his clothes, kicking his boots into the corner in the process. Before I can step into the shower, he wraps his arms around me and lifts me up. My legs wrap around his waist and my pussy nestles against his cock which is standing hard and proud against his abdomen.

I shiver at the contact and a little bit of desperation fills me. I grind my hips against him even though I know I should wait because I want to take care of him and get him clean first. But I can’t help myself and the groan of pure fucking pleasure that comes from the back of his throat tells me he’s right there with me.

“It’s been too long,” I murmur as the warm water slides down my back.

“I was going to wait,” he groans, and I get the feeling it’s more to himself than me, until his dark eyes bore into mine, “but I need you, Sioux. I can’t wait. I need to be buried inside of you. I need you to remind me what home is like and show me where I belong.”

My heart melts with his words and this time, instead of waiting for him to make the first move, my fingers dive into his hair, and I wrench his head toward mine. When our lips meet, we both sigh into the kiss before we start to explore. And that’s exactly what it is—an exploration.

Because kissing Crosby is an adventure. The start is a little slow, but it picks up speed quickly. There are peaks and valleys, tastes that make me crave more, and little noises of pleasure that spur me to dive deeper.

It’s only when my lungs are burning from the lack of oxygen that I pull back from the kiss. When I look up to meet his gaze it’s to find that he’s already looking at me. There’s a sense of wonder in his eyes and I feel my body heat because I’m the one who put it there.

I lean forward and kiss along the large, sturdy expanse of his shoulders. When I get closer to his neck, a foreign scent has me jerking back from him. It’s not unpleasant. And it’s decidedly female.

I swallow hard as he stills and I stare at the spot on his body, unable to look away and hoping that it will provide me with some answers. I know it won’t. Only facing it and asking the question burning on my tongue will.

“Why do you smell like a woman right there?”

“Sioux,” he calls my name, but it sounds so far away, and I shake my head as I will the spot to go up in flames.

He grips my chin and gently moves my head until I’m no longer staring at his neck and am looking at him. I feel the pressure of tears fill my eyes, tears that desperately want to fall. I can’t let them. Not yet.

Not until I’m alone. Not until he can’t see me.

I try and pull away from him, but his firm grip won’t allow it. His eyes become determined lasers as they dare me to defy him, dare me to fight.

“Normally we aren’t supposed to talk about club business. And I don’t want to tell you everything, not in here. But I will say that tonight we took down a place where women were hooked on drugs and being sold for sex,” there’s a cold detachment in his voice that has me wondering why he’s disassociating so much. I get that was probably not a pretty sight, but my gut is screaming at me that there’s more. “Not just women,” he whispers, his voice cracking, “there were a few girls there too. Too young,” he closes his eyes and tips his head back, the cords of his neck straining against whatever horrors he saw tonight.

My eyes widen and hold his strong jaw in my hands. He tilts his head back down, but it takes him a moment to open his eyes. His dark orbs are haunted and my heart sinks.

“I carried one of the women out of that house after killing the man who was fucking her barely conscious body,” he admits and my eyes well up with tears.

This time it’s for an entirely different reason. This time it’s for him. For his pain. For what he had to witness.

I nod slowly, my voice shaky and unsure, “I’m sorry. I started to jump to a conclusion that wasn’t fair. Not to you because you’ve shown me who you are.”

“I get it, Sioux,” he says the words, but there’s a flatness to his voice that has ice skittering through my body.

I wiggle until he lets me down and resignation passes over his features. He thinks I’m going to walk out. He thinks I’m going to leave.

The weight of what I have forced this man to endure because of my own insecurities slams into me and regret swamps me. But now is not the time to give in to those feelings. Now is the time to stand strong. For him.

And for me too.

Instead of leaving the shower, I reach for his body wash. I could use the natural sponge he has for this purpose, but I don’t want that. I want to touch him. I need it.

With a generous amount on my hands, I make some suds and then start to slide my hands over his skin, cleaning him with reverence in my heart. As I’m working, I don’t move my gaze from his body, but I can feel him watching me intently.

“Firefly,” he rasps I finish with his torso and kneel before him so I can wash his legs.

I look up at him and shake my head, ignoring the way his dick pulses almost at eye level. He doesn’t need that right now. He needs heartfelt love that isn’t about pleasure or passion. He needs touch. He needs love.

“I told you that I need you and I meant it. I will be burying myself in you, but I’ll let you do what you need to do first,” he speaks softly, and I exhale.

I hope with every swipe of my hands that part of his night is being washed away. I know it’s probably too big of a hope, but I’m here, on my knees putting it out into existence with my weeping soul.

He doesn’t deserve to see the things he did tonight. I don’t even need to know all the details; I can see the horrors reflecting back at me in his eyes.

“Turn around,” I whisper and ignore the way his ass flexes when he does.

I continue to wash him and then stand slowly so I can get his back. Most of the flecks of blood are gone from his arms, but I go back over them. Because he deserves to be washed clean.

“Thank you for saving people who couldn’t save themselves,” my words hold weight as they fight against the sound of the water raining down from above us.

I kiss his back softly and his muscles tense.

He spins around quickly and before I can even blink, my back is pressed against the warm tile and he’s staring at me with pleading eyes.

“Need to feel what only you can make me feel, Firefly.”

The moment looms between us, so big and yet so simple. I know what he needs. And I’m going to give it to him.

“Take me. I’m yours.”