Chapter 18 #2
I hadn’t expected him to call, or to even text. But every day I sent him a message and let him know I was thinking of him. That I was here if he needed me. That I would always be here.
It started as a rumour. One of the Juniors had been laughing about a Devil’s bunny killing herself. And then I’d overheard my dad laughing about the funeral, calling the Devils pathetic for celebrating the life of a used-up whore.
My heart broke for Luke. I knew his mum had her demons, but she hadn’t deserved that ending. No one did.
In fact, I had tried to defend him. To defend them both. I’d told my dad that drugs were an addiction—just like alcohol. And that not a single man in this club had any reason to judge Anna, not when they were slamming back eight pints a night… minimum.
That had earned me nothing but a slap to the face, and a week in bed early so I could study the Riders code of conduct.
It was worth it.
It also gave me the perfect alibi. My dad was expecting me to be in my room. And, of course, I’d never dare disobey him. I hadn’t before, so why break the habit of fifteen years?
And I wouldn’t have… but then I received a text from the last person I’d have expected. And yet, funnily enough, I wasn’t the slightest bit surprised.
He’s on his way. Take care of him. He’s yours as a loan. Not to keep. D.
Somehow, I doubted Luke had told him about us—not that I even knew what “us” meant. But somehow, he knew. It was hardly surprising. Dante seemed to know everything, especially where Luke was concerned. They could read each other. Knew each other without a single word needing to be said.
So I was out here, on the outskirts of the club, freezing my tits off and waiting for Luke.
I could hear the dogs barking not too far away—no doubt being wound up by one of the Juniors.
It was a scary reminder that my entire life—my dangerous life—wasn’t too far behind me.
And that I was taking one hell of a risk being here.
But then, the snapping of twigs to the left of me had my head twisting around, and Luke’s frame came into view.
He was taller than he had been when we first met. His blonde hair longer, but slightly darker than it used to be.
He was definitely more muscular—him and Dante spent hours in the gym, training for the day they were patched. They were the future, and even at fifteen, we all knew they were the leadership. A team. The future president and vice.
There was also something else new about him. A hidden tattoo on his shoulder. Something Dante had given him with a sewing needle and the ink from a broken pen. Dante had the same. Each other’s initials. A mark of their lifelong brotherhood.
I met Luke’s eyes and saw the deep sadness there. The sadness that was always on the edges, but that he fought so hard to keep hidden. To keep from being a burden. To prove himself. To show his worth.
With everyone but me.
And yet… he stopped walking towards me, and I didn’t move an inch closer to him.
Frozen like statues, we stared at each other—two fifteen-year-olds, on the edge of a precipice, dealing with emotions and feelings far more mature than we were equipped to handle, but left with no choice but to manage them, anyway.
My heart raced, and the night quietened to silence. Until all that remained was the two of us.
As I looked at him, so strong and fierce, his stance showing the marks of the man he had the potential to become, I saw what he kept hidden. The shaking of his hands, the heaviness of his chest as he held back the grief, and the tic in his cheek betraying his emotions.
And because I didn’t know what else to do, I simply opened my arms for him.
His body hit me like a freight train, his strong arms wrapping around me in a fierce grip. His face buried in my hair, his body shaking with the sobs he had been fighting and holding back for the past week.
Unable to hold myself up and the weight of the broken boy in my arms, I sank to my knees, taking him with me, safe in the cocoon of my embrace.
“I’m here, Luke. I’m here,” I whispered, my fingers gripping his jacket at the shoulders, trying to send all the warmth from my body to his, to give him some comfort, some peace.
“What am I going to do without my mum, Gabby?” he asked, his voice low and broken.
“I don’t know,” I whispered back, feeling utterly hopeless. I had both my parents. Shit as they may be at times, they were still mine. And more importantly, they were here.
How was I supposed to comfort him when I couldn’t relate to what he was going through at all?
“I fucking miss her,” he breathed on an unsteady breath.
“I know you do. And you’re allowed to miss her. But you’re still here, Luke. We’ve got you. I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Do you promise?”
“Always,” I said fiercely, tightening my grip on him.
Resting my chin on his head and shifting my weight, I rearranged us both until he was lying against me, wrapped up by my entire body. “Always,” I repeated, stroking his hair.
And that’s how we stayed.
No more words. No more pretending.
Just me, and the boy who was slowly winning my heart.
Just us, and the secrets we shared.
The two of us, me silently massaging his head, stroking his back, and him, finally relieved of all that had been burdening him.
And there we remained, long into the night, until the sun eventually came up.