Chapter 9
AISLYNN
I’d been holed up in Tristan’s apartment for days, but not to hide per se, but after I argued with Pagan, I just needed some space to think.
It wasn’t that I thought for one second that he’d come after me, fall at my feet, and beg for forgiveness; in fact, he made it pretty clear he wanted me gone, and that was okay because I wanted to be gone too.
But I was also hurt by the things he did and said to me.
One minute, he was telling me he wanted a future, and the next, he threw me out without even talking it through.
Pagan scared me, but he also excited me. My feelings were caught in a juxtaposition because I knew I shouldn’t want him, but walking away from him was as impossible as breathing underwater.
The only person I knew who would listen and not judge was one of my best friends, Tristan. Before I knew it, I was sitting in my car outside his salon, looking up at the windows in his apartment above the shop, wondering what the fuck I was going to do.
The second his eyes landed on my face, still blotched and pink, he stepped aside and said, “Go to the bathroom and wash your face. I’ll open the wine.”
Ten minutes later, I was halfway through my first glass of Pinot while I unloaded everything from meeting Pagan at the party to being held by the throat while he snarled at me to get the fuck out of his club.
To my complete and utter shock, Tristan’s eyes narrowed on me, and then his mouth curved into a knowing smile. His eyes slid over my neck, and he said, “I can’t see any marks or bruises.”
My gaze lifted to Tristan’s, and I murmured, “He didn’t hurt me. I don’t think he ever would—at least not physically.”
“Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully. “And your little spanking session?”
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “It hurt, but not...” My voice trailed off because I didn’t quite know how to explain it.
“He made it work in a way that you enjoyed it,” Tristan finished for me.
Red-faced, I nodded.
“Sounds hawt,” he muttered, leaning toward the coffee table and grabbing the wine bottle.
“Tristan!” I cried, slapping his arm.
“Well, it is,” he protested. “Nothing wrong with some slap and tickle. As long as both parties are willing and get something out of it, what’s the harm?”
“You don’t think it’s weird?” I asked, watching as he placed the bottle back on the coffee table.
“No, Ash, I think it’s fucking delicious. But the only opinion that matters is yours. Did you like it?”
I nodded, my cheeks burning.
He made a ‘meh’ face. “Then it’s a non-issue.”
“What about him acting like an asshole and throwing me out tonight?” I asked.
“That’s shitty,” he retorted. “He’s a dick with a mean temper and an even meaner streak, but I already know this about Pagan. It’s no shock to me.”
Tristan had been seeing Cruise, the tail gunner in Pagan’s club. They met at a Kings of Anarchy party. It wasn’t serious between them. From what I could ascertain, it was more of a situationship than a relationship, but it did mean that Tristan had more insight into the club than anyone else.
“Look,” he went on. “Pagan’s well-liked within the club.
Cruisy thinks he’s the shit, but it’s not because Pagan’s made of unicorns, fluffy kittens, and love hearts.
The man’s an outlaw MC prez; therefore, if you want him, his mean side is what you’ve got to work with.
Can the love of a good woman soften him?
When it comes to you, sure it could, but he needs to be a certain way to do his job effectively.
All I can advise is, don’t go into this thinking you’re gonna change him ’cause you’re not. Accept him or move on, honey.”
“I don’t want to move on,” I admitted softly. “I know the smart thing would be to end it and meet a nice guy and settle down, but...” I sighed.
“Settling down with a nice guy doesn’t do it for you,” Tristan finished for me.
I nodded.
“We’re kindred spirits,” he muttered. “We need a little fire to light our souls—”
“That’s exactly it,” I exclaimed.
“Even if it burns us to a cinder,” he finished.
I laughed softly. “Yeah. That too. Every part of my brain screams at me to stop being a fool, and that I’m going to get hurt, but a part of me craves him.”
“Do you love him?” Tristan asked.
“I’ve known him for a week, Tris,” I shot back.
He rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t answer my question, honey.”
I took a sip of wine, giving myself time to contemplate the question.
“I don’t know. Even though Pagan terrifies me, he also makes me feel like I can do anything when I’m with him.
It’s how I imagine a groupie to feel when the rock star of her dreams takes her out and shows her off.
I feel special when I’m with him, but it’s not because of what he is; it’s because of who he is.
The man’s a walking contradiction, Tris.
He’s broken but strong. He’s hard, but there’s a side to him that’s so caring that it brings tears to my eyes. I can’t work him out.”
Tristan patted my hand reassuringly. “And there lies the attraction. You’ve been the princess all your life.
Your daddy worshipped the ground you walked on, and you have three brothers who protected you from all of life’s crap.
It’s a beautiful way to grow up, Ash, and I wish more kids had it like you did, Pagan especially, but it doesn’t prepare you for the bad stuff that life inevitably throws.
When Lorcan died, you weren’t equipped, and that’s why Pagan’s so attractive to you. ”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
Tristan dipped his chin, his eyes holding mine. “He’s the only man you’ve met you’re not related to, who you know without a doubt would kill for you.”
I smiled because that was what I loved most about Tristan. He was perceptive.
“Growing up with brothers who are the embodiment of Chris Hemsworth, Tom Hardy, and Gerard Butler from his 300 era, sets impossible goals for all the mere mortal men out there. Problem is, there are way more betas than alphas, so when you meet a man who’ll force you to bend over his Softail and finger you to orgasm, you’ll never want to let him go, and frankly, girlfriend, who can blame you? ”
I let out a snort of laughter, watching Tristan start fanning his face exaggeratedly. “Ooooweee. Those bikers are the biggest alphas you’ll ever meet. It’s hotter than a wildfire in July.”
Still laughing, I took a sip of wine. “Well, it looks like it’s done anyway after tonight.”
My friend chuckled. “And if you believe that, my na?ve little Ash, then you’re not as smart as I know you are. It won’t be done for him.”
“Ugh,” I cut out. “I just want some space for a few days.”
Tristan’s shoulder lifted. “So take it.”
“He’ll track me down,” I returned. “He’s got someone monitoring my phone, remember?”
“Don’t use it then.”
“And how am I supposed to do that? If I don’t answer the phone to my mam or brothers, they’ll worry, and what if HR tries to get in touch?”
“I’ve got a prepaid cell in the drawer. We contact everyone who matters and say you left your phone somewhere, and to call or message you on the new number until further notice.”
A slow smile curved my mouth. “You’re not just a pretty face, are you?”
“Aislynn, my darling,” he murmured, patting my hand again. “Uncle Trissy’s always the man with a plan. You should know this by now.”
“I’m glad you’ve got a plan, honey,” I replied softly, “because I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m way out of my depth here.”
“Stay here a few days. The spare room’s always on standby.
We can get your head straight so that by the time you see Pagan Sinclair again, you’ll have a better idea about what you want.
Though, while we’re being honest with each other, Ash darling, I feel it’s my duty to point out that I think you already know. ”
—————
Over the next few days, the only time I went out was when I took the back stairs down to Tristan’s salon. I got waxed to within an inch of my life, got a few subtle highlights, and of course, Tristan trimmed and styled my hair.
At night, I cooked dinner, and we drank wine while putting the world to rights. Finally, thanks to Tristan, I started to relax and feel like myself again.
I knew Mam had been going through a hard time because of Callum and Maeve’s big argument, so I messaged her from the burner and told her I’d see her for Sunday roast before heading back to Denver. I had to get ready to go back to work on Monday morning.
Sunday dawned, and Tristan gave my hair a blowout, and I got ready before warming up my car that had been parked behind the salon for the last few days and heading off to Mam’s house.
Hambleton wasn’t a big town, so it only took me ten minutes to get there. It was weird being outside after holing myself up for so long, and I couldn’t stop the butterflies erupting in my belly every time I heard a motorcycle engine in the distance.
Eventually, I pulled up and parked in Mam’s driveway. Then, scanning the street, I made sure there was no sign of Pagan’s Harley before I headed into the house, yelling, “Mammy. It’s me.”
Mam’s softly Irish-accented voice called from the back of the house, “In here, love.”
I dropped my keys in my purse and breezed into the kitchen. “Hey!” I greeted, beaming a smile at my mammy who was chopping up at the counter. “Are you okay—?”
I sensed movement, and my head turned to see a massive figure sitting at the breakfast bar. My entire body locked as I watched a slow, cocky grin stretch across Pagan’s mouth while he studied me and rumbled, “Mornin’, baby. Lookin’ gorgeous today.”
My jaw dropped while my purse fell from my hand, hitting the floor with a loud clatter.
Pagan slid off the stool and stalked toward me.
I took in his smirk, black tee, jeans and biker boots, and his black KOA leather jacket. He was freshly shaved, and his deep, black eyes held mine for what seemed like an eternity.