Chapter Twenty-Two
RHYS
Three days. I haven’t seen or heard from her in three fucking days. I’d rather have Malice torture me than feel this kind of worry and pain. I’m two seconds from storming her goddamn house, not giving a shit if he’s there or not. I need to know she’s safe.
I’ve gone to the Bloomfield shelter every day from the moment they opened until they kicked me out at closing, waiting for her to walk through those doors, but she never came. But fuckhole Blake called every day, letting Kendra know she wouldn’t be in.
I sit on the back porch, the scent of marijuana all around me. My fingers itch to take the joint from Wrath’s hand, to inhale the earthy smoke and let it flood my veins with calm. But I can’t give up control. Not until I see her.
“Now who looks like someone pissed in his beer?”
“I’m not drinking, asshat, so that doesn’t work.”
“Watch it, Sin. I’m still your president.”
“Have we gotten any fucking closer to anything? Wes has never taken this long for jack shit,” I ask, restless, nervous energy thrumming through me.
“It’s a deep web. He said he’s close.”
“Sounds like he’s losing his touch.”
“Don’t say that to his face, brother. Wes isn’t someone who would take that lightly.
I’d hate for any of us to be on the receiving end of what he could do to us without lifting a finger.
” I listen to Chaos talk as I study the wildflowers far out in the field, the daisies and wild lupines that stretch in their pinks, purples, and blues, and how much I’d like to show them to Bristol.
I’ll never forget the look on her face when she saw how clear the night sky was and all the stars that came out just for her.
I stand up quickly as it hits me like a fucking freight train.
“I’ve gotta go. I’m taking my bike. I’ve got my phone.”
“We’ve got a tracker on everything. You okay?”
“I know where she might be. If I’m fucking lucky.”
“Where who might be? You better not be talking about that girl, Sin,” he demands as he grabs my arm, holding me back.
“Listen, brother, you know I’d follow you into any fight, but we have to be safe, now more than ever before, with all the shit that’s been happening.
I need you to be careful with what you’re potentially bringing to our front door. ”
I understand his reasoning; his only priority is keeping this club safe, and here I am, chasing a woman who’s taken by another man, without having any idea of what those repercussions could look like.
“I hear you. I’ve got it under control.”
Chaos nods, and then I run to my bike, starting her up and feeling the purr of the engine vibrate beneath me.
I’m peeling out of our long gravel driveway and racing down our road to the gates with one thing on my mind.
I wish I had thought of it sooner, but now that I have, every fiber in my body is telling me I’m right.
She had better be there.
The night stretches ahead of me once I pull out of our compound, the endless night shrouding everything in peace and quiet.
I push my bike to its limit, leaning into every curve of the windy, desolate road, taking the corners faster than I ever should.
But I need to see her, I need to know if I’m right.
Even if she tells me she never wants to see me again, I just have to know she’s safe.
I skid my bike to a stop at the mile marker, cutting the engine and dropping the kickstand. The opening through the woods is hard to navigate with just my flashlight, but I’ve done it so many times, I move through it on muscle memory.
Branches and twigs crunch under the heavy weight of my boots, the trees rustling in the wind around me.
When I finally break through the tree line at the top of the hill, I see her.
Bristol is standing in the middle of the empty meadow, the moonlight making her glow otherworldly.
Wind whips her hair around her face in a delicate dance, like even the earth is happy she’s here.
Her back is to me, but I can make out her flawless, curvy silhouette like I could pick out my own reflection.
She doesn’t stir or jostle, even though I know she had to have heard me coming, and that scares me more than anything.
I approach her like one would approach a scared animal, with apprehension and calmness, but inside, I’m freaking the fuck out.
A heady mix of relief and nerves wrack my nervous system.
“I hoped I’d find you here.”
Bristol whips around, her hand moving to her heart, as if she well and truly didn’t hear me coming. Her eyes are sunken, forlorn, her lips turning up slightly in a sad, heartbreaking smile. What the fuck did he do to her?
“I’ve never seen you in that vest before.” I look down at my clothes, forgetting that I raced out of the clubhouse without changing. Like every single security measure we’ve created just went out the fucking window. I guess some things are just more important and take precedence.
“My cut?”
“Is that what it’s called?”
“Baby, I’ve been so worried about you. I need to know you’re okay.”
Bristol looks behind me like she’s expecting someone else to appear, but I don’t look back. I know we’re alone. No one else knows about this place. “Rhys, I can’t do this, you can’t be here.”
“Is there a reason you are? Surprised you managed to find this place. It was so dark outside that night.”
“I’ve always been good at navigating. I needed a minute to breathe, and I couldn’t get it anywhere else, so I ended up here. I’ve come here the last few nights.”
To the place where I go to find peace. The place I shared with her.
She delivers her next words on autopilot, as if she’s practiced her speech over and over, or as if she were coached.
“I can’t see you anymore. I’m getting married, Rhys.
Kissing you was so wrong, and I don’t know what I was thinking.
I’m so sorry for leading you on. We’ve been skirting the line of flirting for weeks, and it’s inappropriate.
I think it’s best if you go back to volunteering in Amberwood.
You belong there. I belong in Bloomfield. It’s easier that way.”
Easier? I don’t give a shit about easier.
I reach for her, my fingers brushing her biceps, but she winces, flinching away.
My heart fucking shatters, my knees almost buckling.
I’ve seen that look before. It’s an expression that’s seared into my fucking brain.
But I don’t want her to know that. I know firsthand that accusations are going to make her feel defensive, and that’s not what she needs right now.
“You aren’t married yet.”
I’m no knight in shining armor. I’m a fucking heathen in black leather.
And Blake Mercer just signed his fucking death warrant.
But right now, my focus is on her. I’ll deal with that piece of shit later, the way I should have the moment I felt something was off.
I just know from experience that I can’t force her to leave; she has to want to do it on her own.
I can only guide her. Bristol doesn’t need to end up with me, but she needs to be free of this asshole hurting her.
Fuck, I can’t believe he put his hands on her. Guilt eats at me the way it did when I was a young boy, listening to my mom cry out from every strike, not able to do anything to help her, not able to make it stop.
“Do you love him?”
“What?”
“Do you love him, Bristol? Tell me you love him and I’ll walk away right now, no questions asked.
” Bristol does exactly what I knew she’d do; she blinks slowly, thinking and stumbling over what to say.
I slowly step into her space, reading the turmoil written all over her face. She’s fucking terrified.
“Tell me what happened, love.”
“I can’t, Rhys,” she whimpers.
“You can. I’m not going anywhere until you tell me you’re in love with him, that you’re safe, and that you’re in control of your life.”
I step further into her space, her neck arching so she can look up at me.
I don’t reach for her, don’t touch her, but I’m close enough that we’re sharing breath.
Her chest starts to rise and fall harder, her pretty hazel eyes a storm of emotion.
She feels this between us; she’s just got other shit clouding her mind.
“I know you don’t love him; I can see it in your eyes.
If you were in love with him, there’s no damn way you’d be looking at me the way you always have.
The way you’re looking at me right now. You wouldn’t kiss me the way you did.
You don’t have to say it because I know it’s as true as the sun rising each day. ”
“Rhys . . .” she whispers, shaking her head, my name a desperate sound, a plea, a warning.
My hands move to the sides of her face, cradling her head between my palms. When she nuzzles into my touch, her eyes closing for a moment, I know I’m right about everything. Her heart is mine. She’s just being forced somehow into staying with him.
“I’m gonna kiss you now, baby.” When she doesn’t do anything to stop it, I dip my head lower, pulling her head back slightly to make it easier, and then my lips are on hers.
This kiss is different; it’s not the slow exploration of our first kiss. This is a desperate plea that makes my heart ache. It’s two souls coming together when the world is doing everything in its power to keep them apart. It’s a fusing, a promise.
Our tongues tangle with each other, her needy, desperate moans muffled but sounding so sweet to my ears. She tastes like peppermint and all that is good in the world. I suck her tongue into my mouth, loving her taste, wanting more of her, all of her. I want to consume her the way she’s consumed me.
Her soft fingers push at my leather, and I release my hold on her face just long enough for my vest to fall off my arms and onto the ground with a heavy thud.
My cut is sacred and is treated with respect.
It’s a powerful symbol of my commitment and my position within the club, and it’s never touched the ground. Until right now.