Chapter 29
29
Heaven – One Week Later
A: Please tell me you’ve fully forgiven Anchor? That man adores you xx
I smile at Aurora's message, trying to ignore the guilt that fills me, and message her back.
Me: I’m working on it xx
Which isn’t a lie; I am working on it. I’m letting him in a little more every single day. I’ll tell him what I’ve been up to, share a bed with him every night, heck, I’ve even given him my body again, but I’m still questioning myself, wondering if I’m making the right choice for me, for him, and for our son.
If I trusted him again, wouldn't I have told him about seeing Aurora and speaking to her?
My phone vibrates, and I look at it.
A: Tell him everything, I promise he’ll surprise you and keep quiet. Out of all the brothers, I trust him most xx
I bite my bottom lip, not surprised that she could read me. Even when she was a ten-year-old, annoyingly cute little girl, she read me like a book.
Inside the club, because of Steal, she was the only one who knew I existed, that Micha existed, but only because Bowler used to look after her when her dad, as well as several other brothers, would be called in for active duty—her dad is a SEAL.
Me: I’ll think about it xx
I press send as the door to the reception area opens, and I hold in my laugh as Ginger struts in wearing a dress so small you can see her underwear and nipples.
Now, why am I not surprised to see her here?
“I have an appointment,” she says, and the receptionist raises a brow.
“Name?” Zoe asks, and Ginger glares, stating, “I’m Heaven Turner. I called yesterday, and the guy on the phone should have informed you that I’m meeting Dr. Larsa on my own this week.”
My brows shoot high in shock because, well, I didn’t expect that. The receptionist side-eyes me, knowing she’s talking out of her ass, especially when this is the same receptionist who couldn’t keep her eyes off my husband.
I watch as the woman presses a button under her desk, and I sit back, crossing my arms over my chest, ready to watch the show.
The idiot has just tried committing identity theft and doesn’t even realize it.
“I’m sorry, miss, but you are not Heaven Turner, in fact, I’ve met Mrs. Turner several times with her husband,” Zoe states, and Ginger's face reddens.
She sneers, “I am Heaven Turner! The woman here before me was impersonating me, trying to steal my husband, the father of my child!”
I tilt my head and state, “Let me guess, you’re hoping to get into Dr. Larsa’s office to grab mine and Travis’ file?” Ginger’s head whips my way in shock, and I smirk at her, stating, “This has to be a new low for you, Ginger, I mean, the fact you became a clubwhore, screwing every brother going just to get close to my husband was bad, but pretending to be me?” I scoff as I stand. “Did you really expect to get away with it?”
Her nostrils flare, and she sneers, “There’s nothing to get away with; I fucked him first!”
I grin. “You did, didn’t you, behind the bleachers of all places, along with several other people.”
She looks me up and down, her eyes taking in my simple jeans and tee, disgust etching her features, and she reminds me, “He also fucked me when he was supposed to be married to you!”
I wait for the reminder to stab me, for the memory of look of pleasure on his face, for his words to echo, but nothing happens; instead, I feel exasperated because I am fed up with hearing it.
I shake my head and snap, “Over ten years ago, Harley! He made a stupid, drunken mistake years ago when he was still an immature boy, knowing what he wanted but probably wasn’t ready for it, so get over it because I know I have!”
Peace washes over me with my words, with the truth that they hold, and I finally let go of the past after so long.
“You little—” Ginger curses then rushes me, and I brace myself.
There are several witnesses in here, and as much as I don’t fancy a black eye, I need this bitch to go down. I notice the nail file, and I groan internally.
This is going to hurt.
Ginger raises her fist and punches me across the face before a sharp pain goes down my arm, and I know she’s cut me with the nail file just as the door opens.
I look and see my husband stroll in, but shock, then anger takes over his features when he sees I’m bleeding, and I subtly shake my head at him as Ginger screeches, jumping on me. I grunt as I land on the floor, her body going on top of mine.
One, two, three punches she lands before her body is hauled off me. Immediately, Travis’s concerned face enters my vision.
“Fuck, Angel,” he snaps, “you know how to fucking fight; I ensured it….”
I cough, pain hitting my cheekbone as I grip his arms, allowing him to help me up.
“I know,” I answer, “but then she wouldn’t be headed to jail and I would be.”
Travis looks at who pulled her off me, and we watch as she’s handcuffed.
“No, no, I was set up, fucking set up!” she screams, and I smirk.
“This has got to be the most satisfying feeling ever,” I admit, and Travis groans, “Fuck’s sake, now I can’t kill her.”
I grin and murmur, “Maybe not, but at least she’ll have a hell of a time behind bars.”
He chuckles, wrapping his arm around my waist as we watch Ginger being dragged out of the office while I gently rub my cheek.
“How are you feeling, Heaven?” Dr. Larsa asks forty minutes later.
After Ginger was shoved into a cop car, I gave my statement, along with the receptionist, and not only was Ginger charged with assault and the attempt to harm with a deadly weapon, but also with identity theft.
She’s looking at three years just for the identity fraud charge.
“I’m okay,” I admit as I lean into my husband’s side, his arm wrapped around me.
“For someone who was attacked by the woman your husband cheated on you with, you look peaceful,” she says with a raised brow, and I sigh, knowing I need to talk.
“I am peaceful. She brought up the past, her transgressions with Travis, but the only thing that filled me was an irritation that it was being brought up yet again.” I look at Dr. Larsa. “It was over ten years ago.” She smiles. “I no longer hear his words, I no longer see his pleasure with her, only with me. I no longer have my mother in my ear, pushing me to stay away from him. I’ve let him back in; I’ve opened my heart, my home, my body to him again.” I blink a few times and admit. “The only thing I haven’t done is give him my trust, something he tore away from me years ago.”
I look at our tangled hands, his black tattooed ring in view, and I swallow hard, noticing my name above it.
Please don’t betray me again , I whisper to myself before I move away from Travis and turn my body so I’m looking at him.
I squeeze his hand tightly and look him in the eyes. His expression shows confusion, while mine most likely indicates fear.
“I need to trust you in order to move forward with you,” I state, and he nods, suddenly sitting up straighter. My eyes race between his. “I didn’t trust you when I found out…I didn’t trust to confide in you.”
“I’m listening, Angel, you can trust me,” he swears, his eyes sincere.
“On our way to Texas, I came out of the gas station and ran straight into your arms,” I remind him, and he nods. I swallow hard. “I was told to hold you close and never let you go, that you loved me, and I needed to forgive you. I’m being told that at least twice a day.”
He furrows his brows as Dr. Larsa asks, “By who, Heaven?”
I look her way briefly before looking at my husband, and I admit, “She was held captive for a year, but with the help of an old lady, she ran and didn’t want to return to the club. She had no money and had no choice but to get a job at the gas station, so I took out $3,000 from Micha's savings account, and gave it to her. Nearly every day since, she messages me. She doesn’t tell me where she is, only that she is safe.”
Travis’s eyes widen, instantly knowing who I’m talking about, and he rasps, “Aurora….”
I nod. “I went to the bathroom, but I could feel the guy behind the counter keep looking at me, and I didn’t pay attention when I walked into the ladies’. I bumped into a figure, and it was Aurora.” My eyes tear up. “My first instinct was to get you, which says a lot really, but she begged me not to.” I squeeze his hands. “I’m telling you this now, with her permission, because I’m wanting to move forward with you….”
“Heaven,” he whispers, but I shake my head.
“This is me trusting you with something the club cannot know about because I promised a scared nineteen-year-old, who kept to her promise to let me know she’s okay. This is me putting my faith in you to prove to me that my feelings come before the club.” I sniffle. “This is me, Travis, putting my all back into this marriage, back into you…. I’m willing to forget the past, to rip up the divorce papers, sell the house, and put my trust back in you, but the question is, will you agree?”
I keep my eyes locked with my husband’s, and hold my breath.
I struggled to keep this from him, proving my trust was developing again, but I was scared to confide in him, scared his club would come first.
Now he just has to prove to me it doesn’t.