CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Angel.”
The word comes out rough, desperate, and I tighten my grip on her arm before she can pull away.
She freezes, her back still to me, those slender shoulders rigid with tension.
“Jagger, get on the back of your dad’s bike,” I hear my brother say as the sirens get closer.
Thank fuck for Bane because right now, all I can focus on is Cali.
The woman who risked everything to save my son.
The woman I pushed away because I was a fucking coward.
“Let me go, Tacoma,” she says, her voice barely audible.
“No.” I step closer, my chest nearly against her back. “Not until you hear me out.”
“There’s nothing to say.” She tries to pull away, but I hold firm. “You made yourself perfectly clear two days ago.”
I close my eyes.
The memory of what I said to her slices through me like a blade.
We were just fucking. That’s all this was.
Fuck, I’m such an asshole.
“Prez, we gotta roll!” Journey shouts from his bike.
I ignore him, spinning Cali around to face me. Her green eyes are swimming with unshed tears, and there’s blood splattered across her beautiful face—blood she spilled to save my boy.
“I was wrong,” I say, the words tumbling out. “Everything I said that night—every fucking word—I was wrong.”
She shakes her head, trying to pull away again. “It doesn’t matter—”
“It does fucking matter!” I snap, cupping her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. “It matters because I love you, Cali. I’m in love with you, and I fucked up.”
That’s the understatement of the century. I royally fucked up, pushing her away.
Her breath catches, and for a moment, I think I see hope flicker in those emerald depths.
Then her face crumples, and she shoves at my chest. “Don’t. Don’t you dare say that to me now.”
“It’s the truth—”
“Tacoma!” Bane’s voice cuts me off. “Cops are two minutes out!”
I look over my shoulder at my brother, then back at Cali. “Come with me. Please, baby. Let me explain. Let me make this right.”
Please, God. Help me out here.
“There’s nothing to make right,” she whispers, but her voice breaks on the words. “You said what you meant.”
Goddamnit.
“No.” I shake my head vehemently. “No, I didn’t. I was scared, Angel. Terrified.”
She narrows her watery eyes and lets out a harsh laugh, her hand slapping against her chest. “Of what? Me?”
“Of losing you.” The admission rips from deep in my chest. “Of you leaving and never coming back. Of my kids getting attached and you disappearing, just like their mother does. I was so fucking scared that I pushed you away first.”
Her eyes search mine, and I can see the war raging inside her—the desire to believe me fighting against the hurt I caused.
“You hurt me,” she finally says, her voice small and broken in a way that destroys me. “You made me feel like I was nothing. Like what we had was nothing.”
“I know.” My throat tightens, and I have to force the words out past the lump forming there. “I know, baby, and I’m so fucking sorry. I would take it all back if I could. Every word, every second that I made you feel like you didn’t matter.”
She closes her eyes, tears spilling down her cheeks, mixing with the blood on her face. “I loved you. I loved your kids. I thought—” Her voice breaks. “I thought I finally found where I belonged.”
I bend my knees, getting eye level so she can see the truth in my words. “You did, baby. You did.”
I press my forehead to hers. “You do belong with us, Angel. You, me, Jagger, Saylor—we’re a family.”
“Families don’t do what you did.” She swallows. “They don’t throw each other away when things get hard.”
The accusation hits its mark, and I flinch.
She’s right.
I threw her away the first chance I got, too scared of being abandoned to realize I was the one doing the abandoning.
“TACOMA!” This time it’s Gator. “Blue lights!”
I look over my shoulder and see the flash of red and blue in the distance.
Fuck.
Turning back to Cali, I make a split-second decision.
I drop to my knees in front of her.
Her eyes widen in shock, and I hear Bane mutter, “Holy shit,” behind me.
I don’t care.
Let them see.
Let them all see me on my knees, begging for the woman I love.
“Please,” I say, looking up at her. “Please, Angel. I’m begging you. Give me another chance.”
“Tacoma—” Her voice is thick with tears.
“I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you,” I continue, my hands gripping her hips. “Every day, every moment. I’ll show you what you mean to me, what you mean to my kids. Please, baby. Please forgive me.”
She’s crying openly now, her hands coming up to cover her face. “You really hurt me.”
“I know.” I pull her hands away from her face, pressing kisses to her knuckles. “I know I did, and I hate myself for it.”
“How do I know?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper. “How do I know you won’t get scared again and push me away?”
“Because I’ve already lost you once,” I tell her, my voice rough with emotion. “And it nearly fucking killed me. These past few days without you have been the worst of my life. I can’t do it again. I won’t survive it.”
She’s quiet for a long moment, just staring down at me with tear-filled eyes.
“I couldn’t survive it again either,” she finally whispers. “If you did that to me again—it would break me.”
“I won’t.” I rise to my feet, cupping her face in my hands again. “I swear on everything I hold sacred—on my kids, on my club, on my life—I will never hurt you like that again.”
“Promise?” Her voice is so small, so vulnerable, it makes my chest ache.
“I promise, Angel.” I brush my thumbs across her cheeks, wiping away her tears. “I love you. And I’m going to spend every day for the rest of our lives showing you just how much.”
She searches my face for another moment, and I hold my breath, waiting for her verdict.
Then, finally, she nods.
“Okay.”
Relief floods through me so intensely that it nearly drops me back to my knees. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she says, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“THIS IS ALL VERY TOUCHING!” Bash yells. “But we really need to fucking MOVE!”
I pull back reluctantly, pressing a hard kiss to Cali’s lips. “We need to go.”
She nods, wiping her eyes. “I need to get my RV.”
“I’ll get it,” Bane volunteers immediately, holding out his hand.
Cali digs in her pocket and tosses her keys. “It’s at the warehouse on Fulton Street in Grand Bay. About thirty minutes south.”
“I’ll bring it back to the compound,” he promises, already heading for his bike.
I grab Cali’s hand and lead her to her Ninja. Lifting her onto the seat, I lean in close. “Follow me back to Odin. Don’t stop for anything.”
She nods, and I press another kiss to her lips, this one deeper, more desperate.
When I finally pull away, we’re both breathing hard.
“I love you,” I tell her again, needing her to hear it.
“I love you too,” she replies, her eyes soft.
I force myself to step back and mount my own bike.
As we peel out of the alley, the warehouse behind us fully engulfed in flames, I glance in my mirror to make sure Cali is right behind me.
She is.
I’m going to do right by her.
And this time, I’m never letting her go.
The clubhouse parking lot is packed when we roll in a little over an hour later.
Word must have spread about Jagger because it looks like the rest of the club who didn’t ride out earlier is here.
“Hop off, bud,” I say to Jagger, killing the engine.
Once he slides off from behind me, I climb off and turn to help Cali off her Ninja.
She removes her helmet, and I take in her appearance—blood-splattered on her face, in her hair, and all over her clothes. Her tattoos are unrecognizable.
But even looking like Carrie, she’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“Come on, baby,” I say, threading my fingers through hers.
We head for the clubhouse, and the moment we step inside, I spot my parents.
Ma is pacing back and forth, her crystals jangling with each step, while Pop sits at the bar nursing a whiskey.
Saylor is sitting on the stool beside Pop, her face tear-stained.
“Jagger!” Ma cries out when she sees us.
She rushes over, and Pop isn’t far behind with Saylor right on his heels.
They envelop Jagger in their arms, Ma’s hands running over his face, checking his injuries while Pop grips his shoulder tight.
“I’m okay, Gigi,” Jagger assures her. “I’m okay.”
“Cali!” Saylor shouts when she sees who’s standing beside me.
Running at full speed, she launches herself at Cali.
Cali catches her, stumbling back slightly from the impact, but she wraps her arms tight around my daughter.
“I knew you’d come back!” Saylor says, her voice muffled against Cali’s chest. “I knew it! You promised!”
“I always keep my promises,” Cali says, and I can hear the emotion thick in her voice.
I watch them for a moment, my heart so full it feels like it might burst.
This.
This is what I almost threw away.
“Ma, Pop,” I say, getting their attention. “Can you keep an eye on Saylor for a bit? I need to talk to Jagger.”
Ma nods, her eyes knowing. “Of course, son.”
Cali kisses the top of Saylor’s head then lets her go to my mother.
With Saylor secure, I take Cali’s hand and wrap my other arm around Jagger’s shoulders.
Together, we walk down the hallway toward my office.
Once inside, I close the door behind us and motion for Cali to take my chair behind the desk.
She hesitates for a moment before moving around and settling into it.
Jagger takes the chair across from her, and I lean against the desk between them.
“Tell me what happened,” I say, keeping my voice calm even though rage is simmering just beneath the surface. “From the beginning.”
Jagger’s jaw tightens, and he looks down at his hands. “I was in gym class. Second period. I got a text from your number saying to meet you out the back door. That it was an emergency.”
My blood runs cold. “From my number?”
He nods. “Yeah. I showed it to Coach Williams and asked if I could step out for a minute. He said yeah.”
Fuck.
They cloned my number.