Chapter 24 #5
Before I can second-guess myself, I place my hand on his forearm, silently asking him to face me again.
When he does, I step forward and wrap my arms around him.
He stills, his breath hitching as if this is the last thing he was expecting…
or maybe no one has held him in a very long time.
Pressing my cheek against his shoulder, I can’t help but breathe in his scent.
Beneath the smoke, there’s something else.
Something uniquely him. Faint traces of herbs and incense mingled within his cologne. I remember it from the night we danced.
For a long moment, he doesn’t move. Then slowly, hesitantly, his arms circle around me. But he doesn’t hold me back tightly. It’s as if he feels unworthy of our embrace.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, though I’m not even sure what I’m apologizing for. Maybe hearing the words he should have heard from his own mother will bring him some measure of peace. Maybe I’m apologizing because I wish I could fix what is hurt and broken inside of him…and I’m not sure I can.
He drops his arms from around me and leaps back at the sound of the front door opening. I don’t have to turn around to know it’s my husband, and that he’s reached the end of his tolerance for Legion’s presence tonight.
“I should go,” Legion says, quickly grabbing the container of leftovers he’d placed on the small table.
“Thank you…both of you…for allowing me in your home…and for the best meal I’ve ever had the pleasure of consuming.
” With that awkward statement, Legion descends the steps and walks briskly to his bike.
“What did I miss?” Dean suspiciously asks, holding the door open for me to step inside. I do, and he follows me in, shutting the door behind us.
“Nothing,” I say, hanging my jacket up on the rack.
“You smell like smoke,” Dean mutters.
“Well, that’s what you missed. Legion smoking.” I sigh, glancing over at a tidy dining room table. Apparently, Dean cleaned up after our eventful dessert. I smile back at him. “Thank you, I’m exhausted.”
He shrugs, then reaches to take my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you for another amazing meal. The least I could do was clean up for you.”
The engine snarls beneath me, vibrating through my bones. The only sound on these dark, winding roads. I twist the throttle harder, and the wind cuts against my skin, but I don’t slow down. I barely feel it…and my mind is anywhere but the road.
All I feel is her.
Her arms around me, like I was something fragile...like I was something that mattered to her.
She shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t have allowed that.
Her scent still clings faintly to my jacket…
Something warm and witchy…something that doesn’t belong anywhere near the smoke and darkness that cling to me.
I felt her breathe me in as well, and for a moment, I curse myself for dousing this jacket in the mugwort concoction.
Regret and self-loathing writhe in my chest.
I grip the throttle tighter, twisting it until the bike roars louder, attempting to drown out the sound of her voice in my head… “It worries me… And you don’t?”
Matter. A physical substance, distinct from mind and spirit.
Matter. An affair or situation under consideration.
Matter… To be of importance or significance…
She looked at me like I was breaking… Like she wanted to pick up the pieces… Like I mattered enough to warrant the effort.
I hated it. I hated seeing the pity in her eyes. Hated the way it lingered… Hated the way I fucking leaned into her embrace…starving for her love.
I take the next curve too fast, and the tires skid just enough to make my heart jolt. Adrenaline spikes, sharp and electric. Ingrained instinct from three decades on two wheels pulls me back from what could always be a fatal crash. Not fear. Not even conscious self-preservation. It’s habit.
Some would say riding a motorcycle is a lot like smoking. Another dangerous addiction that eases the mind, quells the tension of the body…and might end up being the thing that does you in…
At the next red light, I reach into my pocket for my smokes, fingers closing around the pack. Somehow, it feels heavier than usual. I decide I’ll smoke later…when the lingering scent of her finally fades.
After cruising the winding streets of her county, hoping to numb myself in all ways possible, I turn down the woodland trail that leads back to my secluded cabin.
A thick column of smoke towers above the trees, and the distinct acrid odor of burnt wood and marzipan assaults my senses as I ride cautiously down the trail toward my rustic riverfront abode.
Enraged as he was tonight, it is unlikely the demise of my modest dwelling was by the hands of the Saviors MC’s disgruntled young Road Captain.
No, I’d recognize this calling card anywhere.
I kill the engine of my bike and dismount a few yards short of the rubble. Glowing embers and charred, splintered wood are all that remain of my cabin. That, and the distinct smell of C-4.
A smile pulls at my mouth as the list of suspects instantly narrows in my mind.
This wasn’t the Steel Vixens. This wasn’t young Axel.
I wonder which of the buttons I’ve pressed inspired this immensely wrathful act of retaliation.
Is it simply meant to be a warning to back off his operation?
Or was this the outburst of a jealous and vengeful admirer… if not lover?
They say a man’s weakness is his pride. They’re wrong.
I’ve successfully exploited enough of our species to know the weakness of men lies with their women.
A man will bleed, crawl, beg, do whatever it takes, to keep her safe.
He’ll give up money, power, territory, even his own fucking dignity if it means she remains untouched.
And that’s why, if you really want to break a man, you don’t need to go for him.
You go for her. It doesn’t matter how strong he is, how ruthless.
The second she’s in danger he’s predictable.
Emotional. He’ll make mistakes, even desperate ones.
He’ll bargain away everything he swore he never would.
He’ll let himself be led, manipulated, alchemized into something lesser, because nothing else matters when the woman he breathes for is in the hands of an enemy.
The worst part…a man knows it. We all fucking do. The moment we love them, we’ve already lost.
The smile on my face dies, and I light up another cigarette, relieved it’s only my cabin burning this time…