Chapter Thirty-Four
Haizley
“Oh my God, Haizley! What happened?”
Sitting at the bar with Bane, I hadn’t noticed Aspen come in from outside. She had begun getting up early and eating breakfast before most of the men woke. I had some concerns about avoidance, but she assured me she was an early morning person, and her waking early was a step closer to who she was before she was attacked.
“I’m ok. I promise.”
“But what happened?” she asked again.
“We’ll talk about it in your session, ok?” Reaching out, I placed a hand on her arm. “Are you ok having it a little earlier this morning?”
“Yes.” She nodded, her eyes never leaving the black circles on either side of my nose.
“Ok, let’s go up to your room.”
Turning to Bane, he offered before I could ask, “I’ll let Gunner know where you are.”
“Thanks.”
Aspen and I walked upstairs to her room. I was thankful none of the other women were around. I wasn’t sure who should be told the truth and who shouldn’t.
Entering her room, I sat in the chair in the corner, and Aspen climbed on the bed with Diesel by her side.
“I have something to tell you. You’re going to want to blame yourself, but I need you to understand this was not your fault. You bear no responsibility for what happened to me. Ok?”
Her breaths became shallow and fast. Diesel’s ears perked up, and I moved to the bed, taking her hands in mine.
“Aspen, look at me.” Her hand dug into the dog’s fur, and he scooted closer, trying to climb in her lap. I really needed to talk to Banshee about where these dogs came from.
“Aspen,” I said firmly.
The dog barked at me, and I laid my hand on his head. Hoping to calm him. I certainly didn’t need him thinking I was a threat.
“Aspen, honey, I need your attention.”
“It was Greg, wasn’t it?” Her voice was shaky, and I rubbed her hand between mine.
“Yes.”
Her tears spilled over, and my heart broke for her. I knew guilt would be the first thing she took on. She hadn’t completely let go of the guilt she felt from being drugged.
“Aspen, I am ok. Greg is dead.”
Her head snapped up, and she looked at me. “What?”
“Greg is dead. He broke into my home and attacked me.”
“Did he—”
“No.” I shook my head so she understood. “I killed him before he could. Aspen, I am telling you this because I want you to have closure. I want you to know you don’t have to be afraid of Greg anymore. He can’t hurt you again.”
“So, I can go home?”
“Do you want to go home? King said you can stay here longer. You don’t have to go home if you aren’t ready.”
Her shoulders relaxed, and she slumped forward, her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands.
“Aspen, there’s more.”
I waited until she sat up. I needed to make sure she would keep this secret. I needed to be clear that this was where we slipped from therapist and patient to friends.
“Ok, I’m ready,” she said, taking a deep breath.
“Aspen, I have to ask you something. Not as your therapist, but as your friend.”
“Anything, Haizley.”
“I didn’t call the sheriff last night. I called the club. They came and cleaned everything up. They got rid of the body. I need to be sure you won’t tell anyone.”
“Oh. Absolutely. Your secret is safe with me.”
“I know this isn’t fair of me to ask this of you—”
“No, stop. He didn’t deserve to live. The things he did, the number of women he... It’s the way things are done in an MC.”
I looked at Aspen. Something had changed. It was more than just knowing Greg was dead and no longer a threat to her. She accepted what I told her without question.
“Are you ok, Aspen?”
“I am. Thank you.”
I studied her face, her body language. She was more relaxed, which made sense, knowing the man who assaulted her and then broke in and tried again couldn’t hurt her anymore. But there was something I couldn’t quite explain about the change in her. Moving back to the chair, I let my questions go for now.
“Ok. Let’s talk about how you’re feeling about all this.”
Aspen and I spent the next hour talking about Greg’s death, her feelings regarding that, and what her next steps might be. She felt she was ready to drop our sessions down to a couple of days a week rather than every day. But she wasn’t sure she was ready to leave the clubhouse for appointments yet.
Once Aspen and I were done, I went downstairs, leaving her in her room with Diesel. She wanted to be alone and process. I understood that. I still hadn’t processed what I had done.
That isn’t healthy.
Bitch, I know it’s not healthy.
I didn’t have anyone to talk to. Sure, I could call Missy. She would keep my secret. But then I would have to tell her about the club. I assumed her disdain for motorcycles and those who rode them, had something to do with how she grew up. But she didn’t like talking about her childhood.
“Tabby, please. Mr. Bear is dirty. He needs a bath.”
Entering the main room, I found Ellie trying unsuccessfully to get a bear from her three-year-old. Tabby hugged her bear tight and shook her head at her mother.
“Everything ok?”
“Haizley, maybe you can help. King bought the girls these stuffed animals for Christmas, and Tabby won’t let hers go. It needs to be cleaned, but she won’t let it go.”
“What about when she’s sleeping?”
Ellie’s shoulders dropped. “I’ve tried. She hides it. I can’t figure out where.”
“Hmmm. Does she ever put it down?”
“Not anymore. She used to let it sit next to her while she played, and I picked it up one day and she had a complete meltdown. I haven’t touched it since.”
“She seems very attached to it.”
“She is. She’s never been like this. I guess with all the changes recently she just needs something.”
Ellie looked to be on the verge of tears. I knew she was pregnant, so hormones weren’t helping.
“Ellie, this is perfectly normal. Kids choose an item, and that item becomes their security.”
“But it’s filthy.”
I looked at the bear. It had a few spots that looked like maybe marker or paint and what looked like maybe chocolate. At least I hoped it was chocolate.
Jingles, who I had learned was Ellie’s brother, swooped Tabby up in his arms. As he walked away, he called over his shoulder, “Leave her fucking bear alone!”
“SEBBIE!”
My hand reached out and touched Ellie’s. “Hey, let’s talk, ok?”
She shook her head as a tear slipped out, and I pulled her into my arms.
“Hey, what’s going on? This can’t be about the bear.”
Leading her over to the couch, we sat down, and I waited for Ellie to tell me what was really bothering her.
“I know she misses Rachel. She’s only three. She doesn’t really understand why her auntie went away.”
The tears came steadier now as we talked about how they were dealing with Rachel’s death and the rift between the club from the animosity between Cash and Ryder. She told me about her friend Danny, who’d had an accident and how worried she was because she hadn’t heard from him or his partner and didn’t know if he was ok.
“Ellie?”
Ellie looked up at Cash.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
Sitting quietly, I waited to see if Ellie would tell Cash what was bothering her.
“I’m fine. Just pregnancy hormones.”
Cash looked at me for confirmation. I gave him a blank look, revealing nothing.
“Are you sure?” he asked her. The pained look on his face said he knew it was more than that.
Swiping her fingers under her eyes, she wiped away the tears and stood. With a smile, she looked at Cash. “Yup. I’m good.” Turning back to me, she said, “Thank you. Maybe we can talk again?”
“Anytime, Ellie.”
Ellie rushed away, probably to go find her daughter. Cash stared after her.
“She’s not good, is she?” he asked without looking my way.
“You know I can’t answer that.”
His hands fisted at his sides. “I can’t let it go.”
“We can talk about it tomorrow.”
“Nothing to talk about.”
Cash stormed off outside, and I remained seated on the couch. For the first time in my career, I questioned my ability to help anyone. I’d taken everything that had happened last night and put it away neatly into a box. As a therapist, I learned quickly that emotions make it hard to help others. So, I locked them away.
Including my own.
If I couldn’t deal with my own trauma, how would I help anyone with theirs?
“Hey.”
I looked up into Gunner’s green eyes and smiled. “Hey.”
“You want to hang out here or go home?”
“I have a patient this afternoon. So I need to get home.”
Gunner growled and rubbed the back of his neck.
“I don’t like you being alone with him.”
“Gunner, we talked about this.” I stood up and instead of getting mad and crossing my arms, I tried another tactic. Sliding my hands up over his chest, I said, “I would think after last night you know I can take care of myself.”
He grabbed my hands, pulling them away from his chest as he wrapped them around his waist. “Derek is a fuck of a lot bigger than Greg. Greg was a fucking pussy.”
“My patient is not a threat. You can even sit outside the whole time if you would like to.” His eyebrows raised in surprise, and I amended my statement. “On your bike at the roadside. Not on my porch.”
“Come on.”
Gunner held my hand as we walked to my car. He opened my door like a perfect gentleman and kissed me before closing me inside and walking away. I wasn’t surprised when he went to his bike and swung his leg over it.
I knew he would sit outside in the cold during Derek’s session. And while I believed what I said about him not being a threat, it still warmed my insides knowing that Gunner was outside, ready to come to my rescue.
When we got to my house, something Greg said popped into my head. I walked to the end of the driveway where Gunner sat astride his bike.
“How long have you been stalking me?” I asked, this time my arms were crossed over my chest, letting him know exactly how I felt.
“What?” he asked innocently.
“Don’t bullshit me. Greg said he couldn’t get to me because you were out here watching my house every night. How long?”
“No, baby—”
“How long, Gunner?”
“Since the day you came into the shop,” he admitted.
Without a word, I turned and walked up my driveway. We would be having a conversation about that, but not right now. I had patients to see, and I needed to not be angry when I saw them.
“Haizley!” he growled, and I turned without thought. The smile I saw on his face told me he knew my response was instinctual. At least I had enough control of my faculties to stand there.
I would not walk to him.
I imagined I looked similar to a huffing bull because Gunner didn’t call me to him. Instead, he swung that big ass leg over his bike. Jesus, why was it so fucking sexy when he did that?
I stood there, glaring at him as he stalked toward me. I felt the heat pull at my center. My panties were wet. There was no stopping the arousal I felt when he walked toward me like I was his prey.
The wolf stalking the lamb.
That was it. The anger dissipated like steam leaving a pot of boiling water. This man owned me. I was ready to admit it, if only to myself. I wouldn’t admit it to him just yet. No, he needed to work a little harder for my surrender.
I might want the giant bastard, but he didn’t get to know that yet.
Gunner stopped in front of me, and I waited to see what he would say.
Would he apologize?
Would he admit what he did was wrong?
His giant hands went to the sides of my head. He tipped my face up so he could look into my eyes.
“I won’t apologize for wanting you to be safe. And I won’t admit I did anything wrong.”
Could he read my mind?
Without another word, he pressed his lips to mine in a claiming, possessive kiss. His hands held me still while his mouth held me hostage.
And I let him.