Chapter Twenty-Seven
TWENTY-SEVEN
JINX
I’ll pick my bike up tomorrow. It’ll probably give Chaos reason to clench his fucking asshole when he spots it in the driveway and assumes I'm third-wheeling his time with Vanessa, but it won’t take him long to figure out I’m not still there.
Kyra holds my hand as we head for the farmhouse, her focus on the road before us. The light’s gone—the moon hides behind clouds tonight—and it’s hard to see where we walk. But I don’t need much light to fuckin’ fall in love with her every glimpse I get.
She faced the unknown today, and she didn’t break. I don’t know for sure that it’s not some delayed response—that she won’t fall to pieces later when the world goes quiet. But if her resilience isn’t enough of a sign that we just might have a chance at this, I don’t know what is.
I’m not a good man. I’ll only ever be good for her.
She needs to be okay with that.
“Penny for your thoughts?” she asks, still staring at the ground.
“Wondering what you were thinking about.”
She glances up at me, her face a shadowy outline in the night. But I can still make out the things I love about her. “Role-playing how the argument with my father will go when I show up to get some things tomorrow.”
She wears a borrowed sweatshirt of Vanessa’s, clean and smelling like vanilla after a quick shower. It didn’t take much to convince her to stay with me tonight. I get the feeling that if I hadn’t told her that’s what we’d be doing, she would have brought it up herself.
As tough as she is, I don’t think she wants to be alone right now. But I don’t think she wants to be with just anyone, either.
“Do you win the fight?”
She makes a little huff of amusement. “No.”
“You don’t have to go by yourself.” I glance at the farmhouse porch and find the light is on, with dark figures seated out in the night. There goes sneaking her inside.
“Jinx,” Kyra admonishes. “If you come with me, it’ll give him ten times the reason to rip me to shreds.”
“If I go with you,” I counter. “He can say it to my fucking face.”
She makes a small huff as we turn into the driveway. “What does happen next? I know you can’t tell me anything about club business, but can you at least give me some indication of how these situations usually play out?”
“Unpredictably,” I answer honestly. “There’ll be retribution. The club already knows what happened from the men who returned. Our job is to prepare for that.”
She looks up at the dark farmhouse and then down the road. “If they come here, what will Chaos do with Vanessa?”
“Same as I’ll do for you.” Keep her close. Keep her safe. “There’s going to be more people show up over the next few weeks,” I warn her. “The club will get busy, and I’m not going to have a whole lot of time to stop and talk. I don’t want you to take that the wrong way, okay?”
“I won’t.” She squeezes my hand. “I just want to be here when you do get time to rest. You can let me massage those big shoulders of yours. Cook you a proper meal.”
He chuckles. “Being you is enough, but that other stuff does sound nice.”
We walk in silence for a moment longer before she quietly asks, “Where were you tonight?”
“Huh?”
“You weren’t with Chaos before you showed up at Vanessa’s. He told her who was with him, and he didn’t mention you.”
I glance up at the men on the porch: Flinch and Sips, one of our prospects. “I went to see my old man.”
She hesitates a moment before whispering, “Why?”
I stop walking and turn her toward me, just out of sight of the others. “I needed a little advice, is all.”
“It really is serious, huh?”
“It’s bad, baby. I ain’t gonna lie.” I run the backs of my fingers along her jaw reverently. “I get so mad at myself for getting you involved in this.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” She takes hold of my wrists, urging me to look her in the eye. “They pulled me aside because one of them recognized who I am.”
“The Sheriff’s girl?”
“As Blue Babylon,” she whispers. Her hands fall away, tongue peeking out to touch her lips as she waits for a sign from me. Anything. “I’m sure you know that’s my username by now, right? Your kind of clubs have a way of finding this stuff out.”
“We do. Yeah.” I rub the back of my neck, the goddamn skin hot there all of a sudden. “It’s not what you think.”
“Jinx…”
“Nobody knows but me and Darko. He had to figure it out for me. It’s just—“
“Matthew.”
I stop rambling and peer at her, afraid of what I’ll find.
“It’s okay,” she offers, smiling a little. “I’ve shown my snatch to the world. It’s not a big deal if you’ve seen it too.”
“It’s different, Kyra.” It feels as though she can read it on my face, that I was getting worked up to her content before today turned to shit.
“How. Because you know me?”
“Well, yeah.”
She sighs out her nose. “Saying it’s disrespectful because you know me just cheapens all the other workers you’ve watched on your screens over the years.” She frowns a little. “It dehumanizes them. Says it’s okay to reduce them to nothing but a sexual aide because you have no feelings for them.”
Fucking women confuse the heck out of me. “What would you have me do then? Not watch any porn at all?”
Kyra fights a grin, sliding her hands to my waist. “I’d have you watch mine with the same enthusiasm you do theirs,” she says softly. “It’s okay.”
“Fucking hell.” I run a hand through my hair and then wrap the other arm around her shoulders, tugging her to me. “I never thought I’d have this conversation with you. I’m so unprepared.”
“Off-the-cuff conversations are the best kind,” she muses as we start to walk again. “They’re honest.”
Her hand rests against my chest, rubbing gently with each step she takes. It feels as natural as if we’ve done this for years. As though she never went away, and my teenage dreams came true: she was mine all along.
I lift my hand and trap hers to me. “I like the feel of your hands on me. Reminds me you’re real and you really did come back.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t?” She seems confused.
“It crossed my mind.” Also, thought it might be a blessing in disguise that Kyra had gone away.
She never had to see the man I’ve become. Never witnessed the rough years when we took over from our fathers. Never had to endure my darker times while I came to terms with my condition.
Things have a way of working themselves out right, even if we can’t see it at the time.
“Come on.” I start us toward the house again. “Best we get this interrogation over and done with so I can get you settled for the night.”
“You make me sound like a stray dog.” She laughs.
“I won’t complain if you want to curl up in my bed.”
She doesn’t get a chance to answer; Flinch already rises from his seat after he spots us approaching the steps. “You’ve finally returned.”
“Where’s Circus?” Chaos is on his way to Vanessa’s, Fang rides with him to return here, and Crow is in the clink.
Flinch nods toward the timber meat safe in the backyard. “Busy with Loki.” Right. Pits.
Best I keep Kyra from wandering too far while she’s here, then. She might just change her mind about how much of a necessary evil we are.
“Who have we got here?” Flinch looks toward Kyra with a friendly smile.
“None of your business,” I answer.
I get an elbow in my side and a muttered, “Don’t be so rude.” She strides right up the steps to the man and offers her hand. “Kyra. And you are?”
“Flinch.” He takes her hand in both of his rather than shaking it. “The club’s chaplain. I’m the man you find if you ever need to talk.”
“She doesn’t need to talk to you,” I grumble, walking past the pair. “Come on, Kyra. I’ll get you settled.”
Sips watches the whole interaction with quiet interest, yet enough smarts to know it’s not his place to ask any questions about an officer’s affairs.
The place is quiet, those who’re still awake being respectful of the ones who’ve already turned in. We don’t have too many in-house members—a handful at best. Another lesson learned from our fathers’ time, when there’d be more bodies than beds and the complications that came with that.
The majority of our membership now choose to live off-site, many holding down regular jobs during the week.
“There are a couple of spare rooms to choose from,” I tell her as we ascend the stairs. “I’ll let you pick where you feel comfortable.”
“Which room is yours?”
I gesture to the one on the left of the bathroom at the head of the stairs.
“I pick that one, then.” She helps herself to my space, pushing the door open to step inside.
I hesitate a second before I follow her in, mentally double-checking that I closed the fucking laptop before I left. “You want to kick me out of my own bed, huh?”
“I didn’t say that.” She crosses to the window and leans her hands on the sill to take in the view. “I just think it’d be better for me to stay close to you rather than on my own in this place, right?”
“Nobody would bother you.”
“You don’t know that.” She doesn’t make the statement to argue, but more as a simple fact. “I’d feel better, anyway.”
“Then I guess that’s settled.”
She climbs atop my bed, crossing her legs to watch while I remove my cut, personal effects from my pockets, and chain from around my neck. I set everything in its place and stall.
I sleep naked. Sure as shit ain’t going to do that tonight, but will Kyra be offended if I forgo a T-shirt? How much nudity is too much nudity when you don’t want the other person to make assumptions about how far things can go?
Not that I don’t want that with Kyra. Fuck—it’s all I’ve wondered about for years.
More, I don’t want her to think that was my reason for making her stay the night.
“Everything okay?”
No. It’s a fucking mess. I glance her way. I’m a fucking mess. “Yeah. Be right back.”
I duck into the next room over—the bathroom—and turn the shower on, strip my shirt, and splash some of the water on my face.
Take me back to the driveway when my peanut brain hadn’t thoroughly thought through the implications of this.
Take me anywhere but a goddamn scenario where every outcome leads to disaster.
What if Kyra puts her hands on me and tries to start something during the night? What the fuck do I do then?
Stripped naked, I step under the spray and robotically wash the day’s sweat and grime off myself.
She doesn’t know about my issues. Fuck. Nobody does. I’ve kept the secret close to my goddamn heart for a reason—what the fuck would my brothers make of me if they knew I struggle to get a goddamn hard on?
I didn’t want to believe it when it started.
Figured I was too drunk. Tried a couple more times with the bunnies, but I knew there were only so many instances where I could lie about being too tired or wasted to get it up before those gossiping bitches would talk between themselves.
So I stopped fucking them. Stop touching anyone.
Gave up on physical connection completely and grew more and more bitter as time went by, watching my friends get the thing I could never have.
So, yeah, Mariana was partially correct. I am jealous. But not of Chaos’s relationship with Vanessa. I’m jealous that he gets to have that intimacy with a woman when I’m destined to be on my own.
I duck my head under the water and let the spray soak through my hair to run in rivulets past my face.
She wants kids someday. A family.
I’ve made peace with never getting that.
How long can I continue to ignore the obvious? We’re not right for each other. We’ll never fit.
Her father’s influence is a blessing in disguise, because at least I’ll have a believable excuse when I finally get the balls to stop being so selfish and let her go.
I smack the lever to shut the water off and let my head smack against the wall. What do I say? What would she do if she knew? Kyra’s not the kind of person to spread malicious rumors—although they’re not a rumor if they’re true—but would she be angry? Or look at me with pity?
I know which would be worse. I hate when people feel sorry for me.
I’m alive. I have friends. A place to live and shit to do every day. I’m more fortunate than a lot of people around these parts.
The towel scratches over my heat-seared skin as I dry myself.
I opt to sleep in boxers only, bundling the rest of my clothes in my arms and drawing a deep breath before I head back to my room.
I might be able to get away with it this time, but the minute I push our relationship into the physical, it won’t be long before she wants more, and the conversation is unavoidable.
Still, I want to hear her come at least once. I want to have that memory to keep when she’s gone, and I’m back to staring at my ceiling late at night, wound up and horny but without the means to do anything about it.
I want to know she got that from me before I push her away, so she’s never left wondering if she wasn’t enough. If it was her fault.
Because she’ll always be enough. She always has been.
I’m just not man enough for what she needs.