Chapter 9 Bones #2
“Do I? Lee chose the club over Mom and me for years. Dad chose the club over everything, including being a real father. And now you’re choosing it over—” She stops. “Over whatever this is.”
“Emma, it’s not that simple—”
“It is that simple!” Her voice is louder now, angrier. “Either you want to see me or you don’t. Either this matters or it doesn’t. Stop hiding behind Stone’s orders and just admit that the MC matters more to you than I do.”
The accusation makes my throat tight.
“That’s not true.”
“Then pick me up and throw me onto that bed. Fuck me the way you did the last time I was here, then make love to me the way you did in that motel.”
I stare at her, guts twisting. The image of Emma on my bed—her body under mine, the sounds she made, the way she said my name—floods my mind.
My hands twitch with the need to touch her.
Every cell in my body is screaming at me to cross the room, to gather her in my arms, to show her exactly how much I’ve missed her.
But Stone’s words echo in my head: “You go near my daughter again, you lose your patch. That’s not a warning, it’s a promise.”
The thought of losing my cut makes me physically ill. Without the MC, I’m nothing. Nobody. Just another drifter with too much violence in his past and not enough future to look forward to.
“How long?”
Her jaw tightens. “What?”
“How long are you planning to stay in Stoneheart? A day? A week? Until you get bored or scared or remember you have a life in New York?” I take a step toward her.
“You want me to fuck you? Well, I need to know what I’m dealing with here, swan.
I need to know if you’re here because you want me, or if you’re just running from something and I’m a convenient escape. ”
“That’s not—” She stops, her eyes flashing. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to make me feel like I’m the bad guy for not having my entire life figured out.”
“I’m not asking you to have your life figured out. I’m asking you one simple question: Are you staying?”
“I don’t know!” The words burst out of her, raw and frustrated.
“I don’t know, OK? I drove all the way here because I missed you.
You don’t call. You don’t text. You don’t answer when I call or text.
And I couldn’t stop thinking about you, OK?
Every day in New York felt wrong without you.
But I don’t know what that means because you were never with me before either.
But you were watching. And now you’re not.
And . . .” She pauses and takes a breath.
“I don’t know if I’m staying, I don’t know what I want, I just know I had to see you. ”
The honesty in her voice cracks something open in my chest, but I force myself to stay firm.
“You need to leave,” I say quietly.
“Bones.”
I cross to the door, open it wide. “I’m not doing this, Emma. Not like this.”
“You’re serious.” She’s staring at me like I’ve lost my mind. “You’re actually—”
“I’m serious.” I meet her eyes, trying to make her understand.
“I lost who I was when I took you back to New York against Stone’s orders.
And I’ve spent six months trying to get my life back together.
Working construction, fixing up this place, earning back trust with the club.
I’m not throwing all of that away for someone who doesn’t know if they want to be here or not. ”
“So that’s it? The club matters more to you than I do?”
“The club is all I have!” The words come out louder than I intend.
“You have New York. You have your career, your apartment, your whole fucking life waiting for you. What do I have? This.” I gesture around the small apartment.
“A job swinging a hammer. Brothers who barely trust me anymore. A president who told me to stay the fuck away from his daughter or lose my patch.”
“Then lose it!”
“You don’t get to ask me to do that.” My voice is hard now. “You don’t get to walk in here after I gave so much away and then ask me to give up more. That club is the only family I’ve ever had. And I’m not losing fucking everything just because you can’t make up your damn mind.”
Her eyes are bright with unshed tears. “This isn’t fair.”
“No, it’s not.” I shake my head. “But it’s honest. And after everything we’ve been through, I think we both deserve honest.”
She’s quiet for a long moment, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. Then she turns and walks toward the open door.
“Emma—”
“No.” She doesn’t look back. “You’re right. This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come.”
She walks past me, out onto the landing, and starts down the stairs.
And I let her.
Just like I did six months ago.
Because she’s not ready.
Because neither of us can do this halfway.
Because—
Because you’re a fucking coward.
The thought hits like a slap. Emma drove fifteen hours to see me. She tricked her way into my apartment. She’s standing on these stairs fighting back tears because she came here even though she doesn’t have all the answers.
And I’m sending her away because what? Because she can’t promise me forever? Because she’s scared and confused and still figuring shit out?
“Fuck it.”
I’ll make her figure it out.