7. Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
Bear
“ T his is ridiculous.” I’m practically pouting like a toddler as I watch Athena walk into Lucy’s coffee shop. Psycho is next to me, spread over his gas tank, chin resting on his forearms. That smirk on his face is about to get rearranged.
“You’re really fucking bad at this whole stalking thing. You know this, right?” My side-eye is side-eyeing him, that’s how badly he’s annoying the fuck outta me.
“I don’t get this game you think we gotta play. Why the fuck can’t we just walk her places? Protect her?” This whole hiding from her sight and following her every time she moves seems creepy and unnecessary. That thought dies a lonely death when I realize who I’m talking about. My best friend should have a Master Class on stalking girlfriends.
Not that Athena is my… anything. I’m just worried, is all.
“Cheesus Kripe.” Thankfully, Athena is inside and can’t hear me belly laughing at Psycho’s use of non-curse words.
“My man, that is not sexy.” I interrupt whatever else he was about to say and take great satisfaction in watching him scowl.
“What’s not sexy is the idea of my kid saying fuck as his first word. Mac’s words, not mine. Personally, I think that would be an awesome story to tell everyone.” Of course he would. “But as I was saying, you do not want to get all stuck like glue on your little Bambi over there. She will run for the hills faster than you can say ‘Will you marry me?’”
It’s my turn to scowl because what the actual fuck?
“No one’s getting married, brother. And I’m not taking advice from the likes of you.” I try to put some heat in my words but who am I kidding? We disagree more than we ever agree but at the end of the day, this dude is my ride or die.
“Got me my girl, didn’t I?” Fucking cocky son of a bitch. But he’s right, his completely fucked up idea of courting a woman actually worked.
Maybe I’m not cut out for this shit. Maybe I’ll just get a cat or ten and call it a day.
Except that thought evaporates like a puff of smoke as soon as Athena walks out of the coffee shop looking like someone ran over her puppy. My body is on instant alert and I’m ready to throttle and maim whomever it is that put that look on her face. Or maybe she doesn’t have enough money for a coffee?
“Oh, I recognize that look, brother.” I barely hear Psycho’s words since the sudden stress and anger has my ears throbbing and my vision turning this side of red. “Yep, just as sure as I’m going to get laid when I get home, that girl is going to make you do things you never thought possible.”
I ignore my best friend, and instead of reacting to his crazy, I turn the engine and follow Athena from a not so safe distance. When she stops, pauses, then turns to look behind her, a bolt of desire races down my spine and lands directly through my dick. Riding a speed bike with a hard-on was not on today’s agenda, yet here we are.
All of a sudden, her eyes find mine from across the street. The way she just stares at me, no pretenses, like she’s worried about my next move or possibly her own, is breaking my heart into a million pieces.
Throughout the years, I’ve seen that panicked look on many women, but until right now, this minute, it was never directed at me. I don’t fucking like it. In fact, I’m torn between going up to her and telling her I’m not going to hurt her, ever, and keeping my distance so I can show her that I’m not a threat.
Fuck .
I choose the latter, hoping I’m not fucking it all up, and raise my hand in a wave. It’s awkward and stiff, making me feel completely out of my depth. Just then, Psycho’s bike rolls up beside me where he parks it, turns off the engine, and slaps me on the shoulder seconds after he hops off.
“Come on, man. Let’s get those coffees.” I grin, a little too wide no doubt, and follow Psycho’s lead, although he never mentioned anything about craving coffee.
My eyes never break from Athena’s gaze as she watches us cross the sidewalk and reach the step to the coffee shop. That’s when she raises her own hand and my entire fucking world rocks on its axis because I don’t miss it. I don’t miss the slight upturn of her lips into what is the first genuine smile she gives to only me. It’s real and it’s all mine.
This time, my grin isn't too wide and it isn’t too forced. It’s just fucking right.
Once we’re inside, I immediately make a beeline for the window and catch her just in time as she crosses the street and heads in the direction of Maribel’s house. The street is long and if I don’t move, I can make sure she’s safe from a distance. I’m aware of the creep level this might be and my mama would whoop my ass with the closest shoe she could find, but I don’t care. My only concern is Athena’s safety, and that is worth all the repercussions I might have to face.
“Let’s go before you can’t see her anymore.” Psycho’s voice is inches away but I don’t take my eyes off Athena as she stops every once in a while to look through the windows of the shops, her head cocking one side then the other. It’s cute. Hell, she’s cute. I have no idea what she’s looking at but one quick glance at the sign at the top tells me it’s clothes.
I’ll fucking buy her all the clothes in this town if it means making her happy.
“Did you finish your coffee already?” I ask this because there’s no fucking way he bought a coffee and drank it all within the last three minutes. He’s good, but not that good.
“Fucking hell, Bear. You have a lot to learn about being covert.” Says the guy who punched Mac’s best friend just last year for simply touching her arm. Yeah, covert, my ass. Dude doesn’t know the meaning of the word.
“I’m confused by this whole fucking conversation.” I’m about to walk right out of the shop when Psycho grabs my arm before tapping his index and middle fingers to his temple and smirking. “She thought we were here for coffees, not stalking. Also, that weird thing you did out there? Not sexy. You looked like a psychopath.” Way to throw my words back at me.
“Duly noted.” By the time I turn back to watch Athena, she’s on the move again and this time, I don’t hesitate. “Let’s go.” I need to make sure she gets home safely.
We only turn our engines on when she’s nearly out of our sights. It’s like a stake out except we’re not cops trying to catch a criminal, we’re criminals trying to protect our women.
I mean, just women… in general. Not that they always need our protection. Some do. Fuck. Fine. I’m obsessed with this girl and I’m going to make sure no one fucks with her. There. I said it, I own it.
With Maribel’s place being downtown, it doesn't take Athena long to reach her destination. We park at a safe distance and I only look away for a brief second when I take my helmet off.
“You got it bad, brother.” I don’t answer, just grunt, because I don’t fucking know what to say to that. “It’s honorable, you know? That feeling you’ve got inside that tells you that what you’re doing may look wrong to other people, but for us, it’s fucking essential. Like water and the taste of our women. Not that you know it yet but I’m guessing soon.”
“That’s not what this is.” I don’t even know why I’m denying it, especially to Psycho.
“Huh.” This time I turn to look at him, my eyes running all across his features. I’m not sure how to interpret the furrowed brow and the disapproving downturn of his lips.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Just never thought you’d be lying to yourself is all. But that's cool. It’s all good, brother. In due time you’ll see I’m right.”
I grunt again because this wise wannabe side of Psycho is kinda freaking me out.
The sound of Cherry Pie by Warrant blasts from Psycho’s phone and I know it’s Mac calling him. Obviously.
“Hey, Cherry baby. You missin’ me?” Oh, God. I hope they’re not about to have some kind of phone sex. Not again. The one time I accidentally had to sit through him telling her in vivid detail the things he wanted to do to her once she was able to have sex again after her pregnancy made looking at her very fucking uncomfortable for weeks.
Psycho punches me in the arm, his eyes serious without an ounce of lust anywhere to be seen.
“Yeah, he’s right here. You wanna talk to him?” Confused, I frown then shift on my bike so I can take the phone. “Don’t hang up after, all right? Love you.” He hands me the phone with a scowl on his lips, like I’ve just run over his puppy. Dude is so intense it’s almost comical. Until, that is, you see him in action whenever anyone tries to hurt his wife or kid. Then it’s fucking terrifying.
“‘Sup, Mac?” I roll my eyes at Psycho, whose narrowed ones only make me want to fuck with him more. “You sick of your husband yet? You can always trade up.”
“I will cut you.” My brother in arms only mouths his words but the intensity of his stare makes them loud in my ears.
“Nah, I’ll keep him for a little while longer. I love you too much to have to watch him rip your heart right out of your chest.” I grin at Psycho’s smirk telling me he clearly heard her response. “But I’ll keep you in mind.” She whispers the last part so it stays a joke between us.
“Understood. How can I help?” My question makes Psycho relax even more as he lowers himself on his gas tank, his jaw resting in the palm of his hand.
“Maribel just called, worried.” In an instant, I’m on high alert.
“About?”
“Well, apparently Athena, and by the way, I ducking love her name, doesn’t have a social or any form of ID.” I guess the baby is nearby if she’s toning down her colorful language. “She tried to get a job today, and when she came back to Maribel’s she was confused about the paperwork she had to fill out.” It’s not uncommon for battered women not to have ID. Sometimes their significant others hide them or burn them in order to keep their control of them. In rare cases, they never had any to begin with. But that’s only if they were captives from a young age.
But that’s fucking rare. Like… less than one percent of the world population. I know because I studied it in college. Don’t get me wrong, it’s one percent too fucking many, but the chances of meeting someone’s who’s been a captive their whole life is next to none.
“Did she tell you her story?” I know the answer and it sounds something like…
“Nope and even if she had, I wouldn’t tell you, Bear. Again, I love you, but that’s shit Athena needs to tell you at her own pace.” Psycho growls—fucking growls like the psychopath I’m pretty sure he truly is—beside me and I just shake my head at how impossible he is on a daily basis. Good thing I love his crazy ass.
“Yeah, I know. Thought I’d try.” My mama is probably rolling around in her grave knowing I just asked someone to give me personal information about a battered woman. Fuck. I know better. Out of all of us, I know better. “How about we get her set up with your guy?” Back when shit went south, just over two years ago, Mac needed a fake identity and the guy she used did a pretty awesome job.
“That’s what I was thinking. I’ll give Graves a call and see what he can do.” We’re being vague on purpose, this whole conversation is already sounding way too sketchy.
“Sounds good. Thanks, Bear. And hand me back to Aleko before he comes home pouting.” At this, Psycho lifts his head and grabs the phone from my hand, throwing me a grin that shows off all his pearly whites contrasted with the ink on his face and neck.
“I’ll be home soon, Cherry baby. Make sure you’re ready for me.”
I don’t groan at his innuendo—and there’s nothing subtle about his meaning—because this is par for the course with these two.
That’s when a thought plants a seed inside my brain and begins growing instantly.
Psycho is my brother, my best friend, my confidant, but we are different on almost all levels and this only confirms it.
I don’t stalk. I don’t play games. I don’t need that much excitement in my life and I don’t need to know Athena’s story to feel confident that she’s probably had enough excitement to last a lifetime.
Decision made.
“Fuck this shit.” My words are muttered but Psycho hears them loud and clear as I hop off my bike, grab my keys, and point my index finger at my best friend. “Don’t move!”
With a grin that screams victory, Psycho holds up his free hand as if showing his surrender, and it’s only once I’ve stalked far enough away that coming back would be a pain in my ass that I hear his departing comment.
“Go get ‘er, big guy!” Fucking Psycho.
At Maribel’s door, I press the doorbell and take a step back, practicing in my mind all the things I want to say to Athena.
Hey, wanna grab a coffee sometime?
How about we go for a walk?
Tell me who put that fear in your eyes.
Let me take care of you.
Who am I?
The door swings open and I’m greeted with a tuft of blonde hair that comes up to the top of my stomach.
“Holy shit, you’re big.” Okay, so not who I was expecting but…
“‘Sup, son. Maribel around?” I try with everything in me to be casual and cool because this is not a place where men are welcome, even less when they’re as big as I am.
“You’re not supposed to be here. This is a safe space and I won’t let you in.”
At the kid’s words, I take a good look at him. His shaggy blonde hair is this side of brown, like he’s growing into it and leaving his childhood behind, but his brown eyes are light and sharp as a tack, ready to take me on no matter the consequences to him. Judging from his height and the way he just used the word shit , I’d put him at the eleven, maybe twelve years old range. I mean, who the fuck knows? Maybe kids these days cuss up a fucking storm. I wouldn’t know.
What I do know is that this kid, who probably weighs as much as my thigh, is ready to take me on to protect the women in this house.
I instantly like him.
“No worries, little man. Not looking to come in, just wanted a word with Maribel.” Looking over his shoulder, I swing my gaze left then right, hoping to catch a glimpse of my girl.
No, not my girl. Athena .
“I ain’t little, mister. Do not underestimate me. I’m quick and my granny told me that the bigger they are, the harder they fall. I’m guessin’ you’ll cause an earthquake when you do.” I’m sure he’s right and in more ways than one.
“It’s all right, Paxton. Brock here is a friend, he’s safe.” The kid, Paxton, doesn’t move right away, and before he takes a step back, he lifts his hand to his face, his fingers in a vee, and swings them back and forth from his eyes to mine. The kid’s watching me.
As much as I love the way he’s protective of the women here, I hate that he feels the need to be. It just means that his life has been fucking hard and no kid should ever have to live a life of pain.
“Hi, Brock. Sorry about Paxton, he’s very protective of his momma and well…” She leans in and stage whispers with her hand over the side of her mouth. “And Athena, too. I think you might have some competition.” Her little giggle has my cheeks heating up and my head shaking soon after.
“Nah, it’s not like that, Maribel. I’m just checking on her, you know? Mac called so I wanted to come by to let you know that we’re taking care of it.” As I speak, my eyes roam, once more, the visible part inside the house, but still nothing. Or… no one.
“Right. Of course you are. I figured Mac would spread the word and we’d get this young woman the help she needs.” Maribel reaches out and pats me on the forearm. “She’s scared and confused, Brock, but she’s strong. If you want to speak with her, all you need to do is ask.” I grin at her words, knowing deep in my gut that Psycho’s methods were wrong from the get go. “There’s no need to stalk the poor girl.”
My grin dies just as soon as she finishes her phrase.
“She caught on, huh?”
“Like I said, she’s scared and a little lost but she’s not an idiot. You two, on the other hand, well… I’ve got questions about your maturity levels.” This time she’s staring daggers at Psycho, who just waves at her from across the street. I love that guy because even in the most tense situation, he can bring a little levity.
“My fault for taking advice from an irrational biker.” We both nod at my comment, knowing I’m right… again. “Look, I want you to take this.” Fishing out my wallet from my back pocket, I rummage around inside it and hand her a hundred dollars. “It’s not much but it’ll help her out for the time being. Whatever you need food wise or whatever, just let the club know and we’ll have it sent over.”
Maribel smiles, her eyes crinkling with the effort, and in that moment she reminds me so much of my mama that it sends a sharp pang straight to my heart.
It’s been ten years but I still miss her. Every fucking day.
“Thank you, Brock. And I will make sure she gets this money.”
“Yeah, um, just tell her it’s from you. Like, you know, something every woman here gets to… I don’t know… get back on her feet or whatever.” I’ve never, in my entire life, felt so shy and out of my depth but just the thought of Athena refusing this money has me panicking.
“Will do, son. Will do.”
“Okay, thanks. And, Maribel, anything y’all need, just holler. We’ll get it done.” With a sharp nod, I take one last longing glance at the entrance, hoping for a glimpse before I turn on my heel.
“Hey, Brock?” Maribel’s voice has me turning right back to face her.
“Yeah?”
“Just give her some time, all right? She doesn’t need someone barreling in on her. She needs support. Ain’t the same thing.”
Again, I nod but this time with a grin knowing Maribel’s got my back.
Most importantly, I know I’ve got Athena’s and with the hard beating of my heart behind my ribs, I’m pretty sure I’ve got it bad.