5. Diesel
5
DIESEL
I shouldn't be jealous whenever she mentions Scout's name. Scout is a 60-year-old man that runs the bar at The Clubhouse. He's a good guy. And I appreciate the fact that Brandy doesn't want to leave him shorthanded.
"Fine, I understand that you want to work." I put my hand on her. I cup her cheek and use my thumb to press against the side of her mouth. "But let's get you cleaned up first."
As if just realizing, she takes her hand and wipes it across her chin and sees the blood there. It's then that she realizes that she's bleeding. I help her up and then lead her to the bed so she can sit on the edge. "Stay right here. I'll be right back."
I walk out of the room, down the hall, and grab the first aid kit before walking back to her. Everything that's happened within the last few minutes replays through my head, and I get tense all over again thinking about walking in and seeing what Axel was doing to her.
She's a strong woman. There's no doubt about it, but I know that this could have a lasting effect on her. I sit next to her on the side of the bed, open the case, and start pulling things out. The sexual attraction between the two of us is mounting, but I tamp it down. She definitely doesn't need me making passes at her right now.
I find the alcohol swabs and start wiping the dried blood off her chin. I look at her with a pained expression on my face. "I'm going to have to clean your cut lip, and it's probably going to burn." She pulls her shoulders back and nods her head. She gives me a nod and looks at me with determination. "I can handle it."
The way she's so strong, it makes me wonder about everything that she's gone through. I know about her dad, and I'm sure she's had to deal with a lot of shit about it. But I know there’s more. The way she carries herself, it’s like she has no choice but to be strong. I clean her up, and she doesn’t even flinch. I then point at her shirt. "What about your shirt? I don't think mine is going to fit you, but I'm sure I can find one for you."
The truth is that one of mine would probably hang off of her and show more skin than she is comfortable with right now. And I hate the thought of her wearing another man's shirt, but she can't go out there with a big rip like the one she has on now.
She shrugs her shoulders as if it's no big deal. She grabs each side of the shirt and knots it together. It shows a little of her skin of her waist between her shirt and pants. "There. It's all fixed," she says.
My mouth runs dry, and I nod my head. "Are you sure that you're okay?”
She nods her head. She opens her mouth to say something but then closes it quickly before turning on her heel and walking out the door. I don't let her get far. I'm right behind her. I have no doubt that the Pres has taken care of Axel, and he's no longer on the premises, but there's still a protective need inside of me that doesn't want to let her out of sight.
As soon as we get to the bar area, it seems that all eyes are on her. Most of the men look at her with either pity or a protective glare in their eyes. A few of them ask how she is, and she thanks them and waves them off. It's good to know that these men have her back.
As soon as Scout sees her, he comes up and pulls her into his arms, holding on to her. "You okay, little bit?"
She nods. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm ready to get back to work."
Scout shakes his head side to side. "Oh, no way, missy. You have the rest of the night off. You don't worry about a thing. We got this."
I sit down at the bar, not wanting to put a lot of distance between us. I gaze back and forth between her and Scout, wondering what she's going to do. She looks at Scout with a little bit of admiration and then shrugs her shoulders, not arguing with his denial of letting her work.
She walks over to the refrigerator and grabs a bottle of beer and twists off the top. She then walks toward me and puts the beer down in front of me. "Thank you. I didn't say it earlier, but thank you for what you did for me."
I grab her hand and hold on to her. She wants to escape. It’s clear that’s her intention by the worried look on her face. "You don't have to thank me. Why don't you stay for a while?"
She’s holding her back and shoulders ramrod straight. She looks over at the cherries, half naked, dancing across the room. She taps her hand on the table. "No, I should probably go."
I cover her hand with my own. "Sit down with me. I don't like to drink alone."
She looks around the full room with a small smile. "I really wouldn't call this alone."
I give her a pleading look, and she finally sits down, turning in her seat toward me. "What can I get you to drink?" I ask.
She shakes her head. "Nothing."
I tap her hand softly. "Let me get you something to drink."
"No, you just saved me. You're not supposed to be the one buying me a drink."
My thoughts go to earlier, and I frown. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get that image of Axle holding on to her out of my head.
She tries to laugh it off. "I'll take a water. I don't want to drink. I'm driving."
I stand up and go behind the bar to grab a bottle of water before bringing it back to her. She's quiet. And we both sit there, sipping on our drinks, listening to the music and the people talking around us. "Talk to me," I tell her. "I want to hear your voice."
I know it's a weird request, and she looks at me strangely. "Well, let's see. What do you want to talk about?"
I shrug because I really don't care what she says as long as she says something. "Anything that you want to tell me, your family, why you got a job here, anything."
She's staring down at her hands as she starts to talk. "I'm pretty sure you've probably heard about my dad. My mom left when I was 10. I haven't seen her since. I live with my uncle over on State Route 39. And the reason I got a job here at The Clubhouse is because I was tired of everyone talking about me at the diner."
Her voice is soft, and I have to lean in to hear her. "Why were they talking about you?"
She rolls her eyes. "Everyone is still is talking about my dad. It’s been ten years, and I’m still known as the murderer’s daughter."
I push my half drink bottle of beer away from me. She looks so tired and so sad. I hate to think that I'm pushing her to stay here when she probably needs a shower and to get some sleep. Even though I could literally sit here all night and just look at her, I know I’m being selfish. I stand up. "Are you ready to go?"
She nods and waves at Scout. I walk her out to the parking lot, holding the door for her, and we don't stop until she's next to her car.
"Thank you again," she starts, but I don't let her finish. "I'm going to follow you home."
She shakes her head, but I swear I see relief on her face. "You really don't have to," she starts, but I interrupt her again. "I insist."
She seems to think about it, and then her eyes widen. "Why? Do you think Axel will..."
I shake my head. "No, you don't have to worry about him. I'm doing it because I want to make sure you're okay. It was a lot that you went through tonight. Come on, let me do this."
She closes her eyes, inhales deeply, and lets it go before opening them and looking at me again. She nods her head, opens her car door, and gets in. Without another word, I walk away. Going over to my bike, I follow her across town. She pulls over to the side of the road in front of a duplex with bars on the windows. I pull my bike right up behind her car, and she's out before I can get off. She walks toward me, and I put my hand on her shoulder, leading her up the walkway. When we get to the porch, she nods at the house. "I know it's not much."
I tip her chin up. "Don't be ashamed. I know how hard you work."
I groan in frustration. I'm pissed off about everything that's happened tonight. I'm pissed off about the past that Brandy's obviously been through. And I'm pissed off that I want to hold and comfort her all night long, and I don't have the right to do that. Not yet. She hears me groan and asks me what's wrong. I shake my head but don't tell her. I want to kiss her, but I know I shouldn't, not tonight. Instead, I answer her, "Nothing, sweet girl. Give me your phone."
She hands it over without hesitating. I put my phone number in. "Call me if you need anything," I tell her. I text my number from her phone so that I'll have hers.
I stare at her for a second. Her head is tilted back, and she's looking at me. The only thing stopping me from reaching for her is seeing her lip busted. "I'll see you tomorrow, Brandy. Remember, you're safe. You have the whole club at your back, but you call me if you need anything."
I wait until she nods her head before I take a step back, needing to put physical space between us before I do something that I know I shouldn't. With one last, long look at her, I step down off the porch and go back to my bike. I sit there and wait for her to go into her house before I drive off.