9. Aimee #2
His answer has me lifting my gaze. It’s a dangerous move when I sense my emotions are written all over my face. But I can’t help looking Levi in the eyes and wondering why he’d still help me after all this time. After all that’s happened.
After I left.
I wipe those thoughts and roll my shoulders back. “There’s still the issue of not knowing where he is.”
“Ghost is good at finding people. We’ll figure it out.”
“You mean it then? You’ll actually help?”
“Of course I’m going to help you, Aimee. I promised you—”
“Thank you.” I cut him off .
I’m not ready for him to finish that sentence. It hits too close to memories I walled behind iron and stone. Ones I never want to revisit.
My gaze drops to his cut. To his name stitched onto the black leather.
Havoc .
I read it again and again, reminding myself I’ll never be able to trust him like I once did.
“Just tell me what you need from me,” I say after a long moment.
“I need you to sit down with Ghost and go over where you think Titan could be holding Anderson. Then we’ll come up with a plan.”
“Why can’t I tell you that?”
Levi drags a hand through his hair. “I’ve got work to get done at the shop.”
“Kings Auto?” He nods. “You still work there?”
When we were kids, he was at the auto body shop more than the clubhouse. It’s the only way I was able to visit him since he didn’t want me anywhere near his club. When I close my eyes, I can still smell motor oil. I can still see Levi, covered in grease, smiling at me.
Nothing made him happier than working on bikes and cars.
Of all the things that have changed, it’s a relief to see a glimpse of something familiar.
“If you want one of the guys to bring you by the shop after you’re done talking to Ghost, I’ll probably still be there later. ”
“You want me to come see you at the shop?” My eyebrows lift. “I’m not a prisoner who can’t leave the compound?”
“You’re not a prisoner, Aimee. Not here. Not ever.”
I swallow my emotions at that simple statement.
“The invitation stands.” Levi turns and walks away.
And even if my feet don’t so much as flinch, there’s a part of my heart that chases after him. Or maybe he had it all along.
“Hey.” Fingers lace through mine, and I spin to meet a hard chest.
My free hand lands on Levi’s cut as I look up to find him grinning at me.
It would be so easy for him to lean in and kiss me. And no matter how many times I’ve turned him down, I’d let him right now. But like a gentleman who doesn’t belong in a club of bikers, he steps back.
“I thought you couldn’t make it today?” My eyebrows scrunch as I spot his bike parked beside my car in the school parking lot. “You said you had business with the club.”
“Finished early.” Levi shoves his hands into his pockets. “And I wanted to tell you something.”
“What’s wrong?”
His head tips back in a laugh. “Nothing’s wrong. Fuck, Aimee, your face. Why are you always expecting the worst?”
Because I thought things were fine once, and then my mother walked away.
I don’t say that .
“Stop laughing and tell me.” I shove his arm.
Levi leans against my car, propping an elbow on the roof. “I enlisted this afternoon.”
“At my school?”
“In the Marines.”
My eyes widen. “Why?”
“Figured I’d try something different.” His gaze lands on his motorcycle, and I hear all the things he’s not saying.
Just like I’ve been bred for my world, Levi has been bred for his. Born and raised to follow in his father’s footsteps. No real choice in the matter.
“Your father is going to be pissed.” Blood drains from my cheeks.
Levi doesn’t talk about the bruises, but I’ve seen them. When his father gets blackout drunk, he uses him like a punching bag, and I have no idea what he’ll do if Levi disappoints him.
“My dad will be fine. I’m not even a prospect yet, and even if I were, Percy signed off on it.”
The club president.
From what Levi has said, the club can’t go against his orders. I hope he’s right.
“So they’re all just fine with you leaving?”
“I think Percy hopes I’ll come back in four or eight years and use what I learned to help the club, but he’ll understand if I don’t.”
“Is there a chance you won’t go back to them?”
One seemingly simple question that weighs our fate. A question that holds the answer to what I’ve been wondering since the first time I agreed to go get coffee with Levi .
Hope that there could be something more for us if his club weren’t between us.
“That depends.” Levi lifts off the car, stepping closer and taking my hand. “If the club’s not in the way, would you actually let me take you on a date, Aimee?”
“You don’t have to do this for me.”
“I’m not. I’m doing it for myself.” He takes another step closer, and I can feel the heat radiating from his chest. “Maybe I’m nothing more than a biker. But I’ll never know until I go and figure it out.”
“So no ulterior motives where I’m concerned?”
He smirks. “I didn’t say that.”
“We’re just friends, Levi.”
“You and I both know that’s bullshit.” He brushes his thumb over the back of my hand. “This has always been more.”
“We haven’t kissed.” I shake my head. “We haven’t had sex.”
“And I don’t give a damn because I’m not here just to fuck you. I like you, Aimee. Always have.”
“Because I make you work for it?”
“Because you see more than this cut. More than that bike.” He motions to it. “You see me.”
My throat clogs, making it hard to swallow.
I do see him, and Levi is so much more than what people assume because of his club. He’s protective and smart. His grades are near perfect, even though he has horrible attendance at his school .
He likes solving problems, which is why he’s always at the auto body shop, taking things apart and putting them back together.
And he’s caring. More so than anyone I’ve ever met. He looks out for everyone above himself. To the point where I worry that he’ll never get the love he deserves in return.
“You don’t need to put your life on pause for me, Aimee. You don’t even need to keep in touch if you don’t want to. But when I get back, I’m going to ask you out on that date you’ve always refused me. And I’m going to hope to God you say yes. Does that work for you?”
My eyes burn as I look up at him. My heart is in my throat. I can barely blink or form words. But I manage just one.
“Yes.”