Chapter 9
Patch
As we get out of the shower and get ready to face the day, all I can think of is how I fucked up last night.
I’m lost in my own thoughts as I pull my jeans on.
My head is still pounding, but it’s more than just a hangover.
I’m disgusted with myself that I drank too much, lowered my guard and ended up doing the very thing I promised myself that I wouldn’t do, which is take advantage of her innocence.
I know we didn’t have sex, but realizing that Beth couldn’t remember anything of what we did, makes me feel like shit.
I’m angry with myself that I can’t seem to shake the memory of how soft and delicate she felt under me.
I refuse to brush my teeth because I can still taste her on my tongue.
I keep replaying the sexy noises she made as I pleasured her.
The way her hips tilted to give me better access to her sweet pussy.
Last night was everything I ever dreamed of having with a woman, the one woman I’d sworn not to touch.
I shove all those thoughts away and drag my shirt over my head.
Last night should never have happened. She’s nineteen, in danger, and looking at me for protection.
What the hell kind of man does that? I told her this marriage was on paper and then turned right around and crossed the line.
I know we were both equally drunk, but I’m better than that.
Behind me, I hear the rustle of clothes.
Beth’s slower than me, fumbling with her jeans.
I can see her fingers trembling. I glance in the mirror and catch her reflection.
She looks as miserable as I feel. I can’t tell whether it’s because we crossed a boundary together last night or because she’s worried about her sister.
That makes my chest ache. It’s because I realize she’s fragile and in danger herself but more worried about her disabled sister.
She’s going to make some lucky young man a damn good wife, and it wounds my soul that the someone isn’t going to be me.
She clears her throat. “You okay, Patch?”
“I’m fine.” My voice comes out rough. I tug my boots on, slam the heel against the floor. “I’m more worried about you. When was the last time you ate?”
She shrugs, wincing at the movement. “Yesterday at lunch. But I’ll survive.”
I remember her picking her way through dinner and not eating much. “We’ll eat before we leave the clubhouse.”
Her eyes shoot up to mine in the mirror. She looks surprised. “Look, I’m fine. We need to get on the road if we’re going to see Lila this morning.”
“We’ll eat,” I interject, sharper than I mean. Sighing, I soften my tone. “You need to eat in order to keep your strength up. I’m sure we can find something that will go easy on your stomach. You want your sister to see you at your best, not your worst, right?”
She presses her lips together. Then she lowers her head slightly. “Okay. I’ll find something downstairs.”
I nod encouragingly because she needs to prioritize her health, but I don’t want to seem like I’m jumping all over her.
Moving past her to grab my cut from the chair, I slide it on, letting it settle over my shoulders.
Yesterday, I wore the vest of a prospect.
Today, I’m wearing the real thing. Last night, brothers thumped my back, shoved shots of whiskey into my hands and shouted my name like I belonged.
I earned the right to wear this cut, and I won’t be taking it off for anything.
Strange how last night was the best night of my life in many regards but also the night I fucked up with the woman I’ve sworn to protect. Thank God I didn’t go all the way. She can still save herself for marriage, like she probably always planned.
Beth stands up from putting on her shoes and looks up at me. “So, after breakfast, we head to Sunnybrook first?”
“Yeah, everything we do needs to be with your sister’s approval. If she can tell us what she wants, we should try our best to do it. She has capacity, right?” I ask.
“Yeah, she’s medically frail, but she can make decisions about her treatment.
She’s had to be admitted to intensive care a few times in the past when she gets lung infections.
That was partly why my parents had the guardianship order and power of attorney.
For those times when she wasn’t able to make her wishes known,” Beth says.
I nod. The fact that her sister is legally competent should help to sway the judge’s decision if her stepfather tries anything.
But if he’s paying for her care, and the fact that Sunnybrook is one of the most expensive care facilities means that he does have the power to refuse to pay.
I’m not a rich man as I’m still paying off my medical school debt, but neither am I destitute.
I make a mental note to myself to see what sort of money I’d have to come up with to keep her sister there.
“She can talk about what she wants. The last time Mom and I visited, she told us that Sunnybrook felt like having her own little apartment and housemates. She has a private room that we fixed up real nice for her over the years,” Beth says.
I don’t want to worry Beth about what her stepfather could threaten, but I have to ask, “Her care, is it state-funded or…?”
“My father set up a trust fund to pay for her treatment,” she says.
I’m relieved to hear that. “I need to see the place with my own eyes. I want to make sure the care is what they say it is. I’ll make sure they’re doing everything possible for her medically.”
The worry in her face eases up a bit. “Thank you.”
I meet her gaze and tell her, “You don’t have to keep thanking me. You’re my wife. Taking care of you and your family is my responsibility. No one will be taking Lila out of her placement. Not while I’m breathing.”
She glances away. “I didn’t want to drag you into more than you already signed up for.”
I step closer, closing the distance between us. “Beth, I wasn’t joking about wanting you to tell me everything. All your problems are mine too. Understand?”
She nods, her delicate face carrying a very brave expression. “I understand. From now on, I’m gonna worry you with every detail of my life. So much so that you might be sorry you said all my problems are yours too.”
I can’t help but chuckle at her gentle teasing. “Come on, darlin’,” I tell her, cramming my keys into my pocket. “Let’s go eat something before we hit the road.”
***
The main room is quiet, especially compared to the chaos of last night.
The prospects have cleaned up the empty bottles, wiped down the tables, and aired the place out.
We head to the back patio and grab some coffee, then rummage through the club’s kitchen for food.
The prospects just started cooking breakfast, so we nibble on fruit, yogurt, and nuts.
It’s a very unfulfilling breakfast for me, but Beth seems to be having the time of her life.
“You said you have a house. Do you ever go there?” she asks, her voice curious.
“Yeah, I do.” I throw a handful of nuts in my yogurt and stir it around. My eyes go to the grill outside where Rick and Larry are tending to the sausages then back to my sad yogurt. “I’ll take you there tonight and let you look around.”
She looks up at me through her long lashes. When she smiles at me, it makes me want to throw her over my shoulder and run off with her.
“I’d love that because I’ve been wondering if you have a bachelor pad or something more conventional.”
“It’s a regular house, nothing fancy. I should have taken you there sooner. I’ve just been forced to spend a lot of extra time at the office, what with interviewing a PA and all. That’s why it’s easier just to stay at the apartment above my office.”
We sit at the table, talking about my house and our plan for the day, honing in on all the details.
When we finish, we head out to the parking lot.
Outside, there is still a chill in the air.
The bike waits in one of the front parking spots.
My eyes light up when I see my Harley. It’s black with loads of chrome flashing trim, she’s truly beautiful.
I swing my leg over, the motion as natural as breathing.
I pull the spare helmet from the saddlebag and hold it out for Beth.
She takes it, her fingers brushing mine.
I get settled before glancing back at her. “We need to get moving.”
She hesitates, biting her lip. Then she steps closer, because she clearly has something to say. “Patch, can I tell you something before we leave?”
Her tone is humble and contrite. It makes me pause. “Go ahead. Say what you’ve got to say.”
“The first day I rode with you, I lied to you.”
A sick feeling stirs in my gut. “You didn’t really want to ride with me, did you?”
“It wasn’t that. I told you I wanted to ride on your bike just to make our marriage look real.”
“Yeah.” My chest tightens at the memory. Her words stung more than they should have. It felt like she was reducing something almost sacred to me to a prop.
Her voice drops lower. “That wasn’t the truth.”
I turn towards her, waiting for her to finish her explanation.
She takes a breath and pushes the words out.
“I always wanted to ride with you, ever since I was little. I used to watch you ride around on your big Harley before I even knew what one was. And it just… looked exciting and daring. I wanted to know what that felt like—to ride free like you did. I just didn’t have the nerve to ask and honestly didn’t think you’d take the time to give me a short ride on your bike.
I guess I always had a bit of a crush on you. ”
Her words shock me because I never once thought she felt that way. I’d told myself she climbed on that day out of necessity, to play the part, to sell the relationship. Now she’s standing here admitting it was something she always wanted—something she dreamed of for years. It was a lot to take in.
“Beth,” I start, but she shakes her head firmly, jerking her helmet on.