Chapter 12 Makenna
TWELVE
MAKENNA
Zane steers me back into the house, shutting the door behind us and sliding the lock into place, as if that can keep someone like Riot out.
Every inch of his body is coiled like a spring waiting to unleash. I hover awkwardly when he interlaces his fingers at the back of his head and then he roars.
Shit.
I flinch.
Watching him unravel sits heavily in my gut. He’s not breathing right, his chest rising and falling in uneven, ragged pants, and for once, I don’t know how to stitch him back together.
“I told you to go inside.” The words sound like they’ve been dragged over broken glass. “They know who you are now. Do you understand that? They fucking know you exist.”
His fingers curl into fists, flexing at his side before he straightens them out again. He’s pissed, and he has every right to be, but so am I.
“Do you really think I was going to wait inside like a good little girl while you had a gun in your face?”
He lifts his eyes and all I see is guilt, regret, and fear mixed with that deep hopelessness I know he’s not going to be able to escape.
“Yes, Makenna! That’s exactly what you should have fucking done!
Don’t you get it? I would have killed him with my bare hands if he’d looked at you wrong.
I would’ve hunted him to the ends of the earth and carved your name on his ribs if one of your hairs was moved out of place by him.
This is what I mean when I say I’m a liability with you. ”
I don’t move. I can’t. What do you say to that kind of confession? What do you say to someone who is admitting they would commit atrocities in your name?
“I’m fine. Standing here without a mark on me.”
His long strides eat up the space between us, and my spine hits the wall behind me as his hands bracket either side of my head.
I blink rapidly, my heart fluttering wildly.
“Do you realise you put a target on your back just now?” He’s not yelling. His voice is terrifyingly calm and that scares me more than if he was screaming at me.
I peer up at him, lifting my chin and refusing to let him see how unsettled he’s making me.
I don’t fear him hurting me. I’m more afraid of how much this is destroying him.
“I’ve lived in the crosshairs of bad people my entire life, Zane.
Do you think I care that I’m standing in another one?
That man pointed a gun at you. A fucking gun, and you didn’t even flinch.
” This time I’m the one breathing hard, the fear I’d buried flooding every cell in my body.
“It’s not normal to just stand there when someone’s threatening to kill you. ”
He shoves back off the wall, giving me space. I take a shuddering breath as he drops his hands to his hips and starts pacing. It’s as if motion is the only thing keeping his head from exploding.
“You think I don’t stare into the face of danger every fucking day? Like I’ve said before, Kenna, this isn’t a weekend club. We’re not playing dress up in kuttes and boots.”
The sarcasm in his tone pisses me off. “No, but I didn’t think you were in the middle of war where your life could be on the line if you make the wrong choices.
I didn’t think the men I thought were there to protect you were trying to decide whether to end your life or not.
” I rub my temple, a headache blooming behind the bone.
“How is this better than what we had before?”
“It’s not,” he admits. “But it should have been.”
I close my eyes, trying to centre myself.
I’m so tired. Every nerve ending feels overwrought. I blow out a breath and meet his gaze. “I would rather live on the streets, without knowing where our next meal is coming from than wonder if you’re coming home at all, Zane. You’re my home. Not the apartment, not the club. You.”
He scrubs a hand over his face, his steps slowing. “It wasn’t meant to be like this.”
“Yeah, you said, but Zane… it is like this and you’re telling me you can’t just leave. So, what the hell are we meant to do?”
“You don’t do anything. I help the others fix this and hope when the dust settles that there’s enough left to rebuild the club the way it should have been.”
“You know what hurts the most is that I was sat at home, pissed off that you were treating me like an afterthought while you were walking through a war without me.” My voice catches. “I’m not fragile, Zane. I don’t need you to place soft landings around me in case I fall.”
“I know you’re not. You never have been.” He stares at a spot on the floor, like if he doesn’t move the world might not shift again beneath us.
I take his hands in mine. They’re clammy and still trembling.
“You don’t need to protect me from the dark parts of our life.
I’ve already survived drug raids, social workers, group homes, foster dads…
And… and worse.” He flinches at that. “I stood by you when they locked you in a cell and called you a monster. I’m in this with you.
Always. But only if you’re honest with me. ”
His thumb circles over the back of my hand in slow, soothing motions.
I’m not sure he realises he’s doing it, that he’s using me to anchor him.
“This isn’t a social worker refusing to move you out of an abusive home, firefly.
This isn’t a cracked rib from a drunk prick with anger issues and wandering hands.
This is brothers turning on brothers. This is blood on the floors and the walls that’s going to take a generation to clean up.
” He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to block out whatever horror scene is building in his head.
“If something happens to you… If I let them touch you—”
His voice breaks, and for the first time he drops his facade enough for me to see the real terror in his eyes. My heart squeezes like there’s a fist wrapped around it.
“And what do you think I do if something happens to you?” He blinks once.
Then again. As if he never considered this outcome.
“I have to live with that, Zane.” Now my voice is cracking.
I reach out, stroking my knuckles over his cheek, needing to touch him.
He leans into my hand, as if drawn like a magnet.
“I understand why you did it. I can even forgive you for hiding the truth, but I want to be clear. What you did wasn’t protection.
It was fear dressed up in control. You’re not doing me a favour by shutting me out.
You’re not keeping me safe. You’re keeping me ignorant.
You’re isolating me. And that’s not love. Not in the way I need it from you.”
The way he looks at me, like he’s hanging on by his fingernails, like he’s two breaths from drowning in his own head.
“We’ve survived worse shit together,” I continue. “It’s what we do. It’s you and it’s me against the world. That’s how it’s always been. You don’t get to leave me behind while you’re off battling monsters. Not this time.”
He finally leans his forehead to mine, as if he’s trying to merge with me. His hands come to cup my face, his breath steady for the first time since we walked back into the house. “I’m fucking terrified.”
It hits me like a wrecking ball to hear him say that. “I know. I am too.”
“I just wanted you to be able to breathe easy for once. I wanted to give you a life where you weren’t looking over your shoulder.”
My heart breaks at that. He’s always felt like he had to shoulder things. Not anymore. I don’t want or need that protection from him. I want to be his partner. “I would rather walk through the fire with you then sit alone in the ashes of what you leave behind.”
His lips twitch just a fraction. “Poetic.”
“The truth.”
He lets out a long breath. “You’re going to be the death of me, firefly.”
“Neither of us are dying,” I say firmly.
He shudders, full body trembles. “I’m sorry.”
“I know. I am too. I didn’t mean to hurt you with those papers. I just didn’t know what else to do to reach you.”
He buries his head in the crook of my neck, his breath warm against my skin. I want to stay like this forever, locked in him. I love him so much, but he has to learn that it’s not his job to protect me from the world.
My fingers rake through his hair in a slow rhythm until his body relaxes against me. Like we’re sixteen again and he’s just taken a punch from one of his shit head foster parents. How many times did we stand like this? Him burying his emotions while I tried to tease them free?
“I have to go back,” he mumbles into my shoulder before he straightens.
His eyes are heavy but resolved. “I have to fix this, and not just for us, Kenna, but for the club too. For my brothers who still believe in a better future. I want you to be a part of this. I want the life we were promised when I took this patch. Because walking away? That’s not an option, so if I’m stuck in this, I’m going to burn it to the ground and rebuild it the way it should have been.
” He strokes my face. “It’s not going to be easy, but it’ll be the club I wanted to become a part of. ”
I hate that this is the choice. Fight and hope to fix things. Run and spend our lives looking over our shoulders.
It’s not a choice at all.
But it’s the only path we have.
“You think you can do it?”
“I don’t know. When I joined the Sons, firefly, it was…
it was all about family. That message got murky over the last few years in our chapter but it’s not the way of the club.
London, Manchester—the other chapters all orbit around loyalty, brotherhood and family.
We got lost, but I think we can find our way back.
And then we can build our life in a world that takes care of its own. That’s what I always wanted for you.”
I kiss him. I can’t help it. I need to touch him, to feel him.
It’s soft, gentle in a way we never are with each other, but in this moment that’s what we both need.
He brushes his mouth over mine like I’m the only thing he’ll ever want, and my body reacts instantly.
How did I think I could live without this man?
Without his mouth, his touches, his desire for me.
I’ve missed him so much that my chest aches as I melt into him.
I love Zane and whatever happens next, it’ll be with me by his side, as it’s always been.
Him and me against the world.
“Then I’m coming with you,” I say when we break apart, “whether you like it or not.”