Chapter 3
RUSH
I'm outside Trinity again on Tuesday and I've stopped pretending this is about the job.
It's not. It never was.
I tell myself I'm just making sure she's safe, but that's bullshit and I know it.
The truth is I can't seem to stay away. Every instinct I've got is pulling me toward her like gravity.
She comes out of the science building at noon with that blonde friend, Maya, and they walk toward the café down the street.
I keep my distance, engine idling beneath me, watching them through the glass.
They settle at the back, good line of sight, easy exit, it doesn’t matter, if something went wrong, I’d be through that door before anyone else even moved.
I shouldn’t still be here, but I am, I can’t leave, and I’m sure why the hell not.
I watch her laugh at something Maya says, I learned her name earlier today when I heard Everly call out to her. I watch her tuck her hair behind her ear, and watch her hands move when she talks.
I'm cataloging details I have no business noticing—the way she bites her bottom lip when she's thinking, the scar on her left hand, and the small silver ring on her right thumb.
This is bad. This is exactly what I can't let happen. But knowing doesn't change the fact that I'm here, watching her like some obsessed asshole who can't take a hint.
Twenty minutes later, they leave the café and head back toward campus. I wait until they're inside before I ride back to the clubhouse.
Tank's in the garage when I walk in. "Where've you been?"
"Errands."
"Bullshit. You've been following Diesel's daughter around Dublin."
I don't answer because he's right.
"You need to be careful, brother," he says. "This isn't going to end well."
"I know what I'm doing."
"Do you? Because from where I'm standing it looks like you're one step away from doing something stupid."
"I've got it under control."
"Right, control." He wipes his hands on a rag. "Just remember what Pyro said—she's off limits."
"I remember."
He walks away and I start working on my bike. My hands are steadier when I've got something to do.
But my mind keeps circling back to Everly, to the way she looked at me Friday night, to the challenge in her voice when she asked what I'd do if she wasn't safe.
Whatever I need to.
I meant it.
I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe, even if that means keeping her safe from me.
Wednesday night, there's another gathering at the clubhouse. Everly shows up around eight.
I'm at the bar and I track her movement across the room. She's wearing jeans and a black sweater. Her hair's down and it catches the light.
She sees me and raises her wine glass slightly, acknowledging me.
I nod back and force myself to look away.
Ciara appears beside me a few minutes later. "You're staring again."
"I'm doing my job."
"Your job is to watch Diesel's daughter all night?"
"My job is to make sure she's safe."
Ciara takes a drink of her beer. "She seems perfectly safe to me."
"That's the point."
"Right." She's quiet for a second, then she says, "You know she's only here temporarily, right? Once her program's done, she'll go back to South Carolina."
"I know."
"Just making sure you remember that."
I don't answer and she walks away. I can feel her annoyance, but I don't have the energy to care.
My attention's already back on Everly. She's laughing at something Gráinne said and the sound carries across the room.
I want to know what's funny. I want to be the one making her laugh.
The thought makes my chest tight.
An hour later, Everly gets up to use the bathroom. I track her movement across the room and down the hallway.
She's gone for maybe three minutes, and when she comes out I'm standing near the hallway entrance.
Not blocking, just there.
She stops when she sees me. "You're hovering."
"Just making sure you're okay."
"I went to the bathroom, Rush, not into a war zone."
"I know."
She steps closer, and I can smell that clean, sharp scent of hers. It makes my jaw tight. "You always this paranoid?"
"Pretty much."
"Must be exhausting."
"It is."
She tilts her head and studies me. Her eyes are dark and they miss nothing. "What are you so afraid of?"
The question lands like a punch, and for a second I can't breathe.
What am I afraid of?
Losing control, hurting someone, becoming the person I was in juvie.
But I can't say that, so I just say, "Nothing."
"Liar." She says it with a small smile but there's something sharp underneath. "You're wound so tight I'm surprised you don't snap."
"I don't snap."
"Everyone snaps eventually."
"Not me."
"We'll see." She moves to walk past me and her arm brushes mine—just barely, but the contact makes my skin hot.
I grab her wrist without thinking—not hard, just enough to stop her.
She goes still and looks down at my hand, then up at my face. "Rush."
I should let go, should step back, should put distance between us.
But I don't.
Instead, I pull her closer—just slightly, testing.
She doesn't pull away, and that's all the permission I need.
I lean in and her breath catches. Her eyes drop to my mouth and everything else disappears.
The clubhouse, the noise, the people—all of it fades until it's just her.
I'm a second away from kissing her when someone calls my name.
"Rush, Pyro needs you in the chapel."
The spell breaks and I let go of her wrist, step back fast.
Everly blinks and takes a breath. "That was close."
"Yeah."
"You should probably go."
"Yeah."
I walk away before I do something stupid like pull her back. My heart's pounding and my hands are shaking.
That was too close, way too close.
When I get to the chapel, Pyro's waiting. "You good?"
"Yeah. What do you need?"
"Nothing. Bozo said you looked like you were about to make a mistake."
I close my eyes and lean against the wall. "Fuck."
"Yeah, fuck." Pyro crosses his arms. "What the hell are you doing, Rush?"
"I don't know."
"You need to figure it out before Diesel finds out you're sniffing around his daughter."
"I'm not sniffing around."
"Bullshit. I've seen the way you look at her." He's quiet for a second. "Look, I get it. She's attractive and she's here and you're doing the proximity thing. But this can't happen."
"I know."
"Do you? Because it looked like you were about to kiss her in the hallway."
"I wasn't."
"You were, and if Bozo hadn't interrupted you would have."
He's right and I know it. I was a second away from crossing a line I can't uncross.
"It won't happen again," I say.
"Make sure it doesn't."
He leaves and I stay in the chapel. My hands are still shaking, so I clench them into fists.
I can still feel where I grabbed her wrist, can still see the way her eyes dropped to my mouth.
She wanted it. I know she did.
But wanting isn't enough, not when there's this much at stake.
I take a breath and push away from the wall, then I leave through the back door.
I can't be here right now, can't be near her.
I get on my bike and ride. No destination, just riding until my head clears.
It doesn't work.
That night, I dream about juvie again.
I'm thirteen, two weeks in, still figuring out how things work.
There's a kid named Marcus who runs the block. He's eighteen and built like he's been lifting since birth.
He decided I owe him commissary and I told him to fuck off.
Big mistake.
He comes at me in the showers, three guys with him for backup.
I see it coming and have two choices: take the beating or fight back.
I fight back.
My first punch breaks his nose. Blood sprays across the tile, the sound wet and sharp. It makes my stomach turn.
But I don't stop.
I can't stop.
Because if I stop, they'll know I'm weak and weak doesn't survive in here.
So I keep hitting him until someone pulls me off, until the guards come running, until I'm in solitary with bloody knuckles and a black eye.
I'm in solitary for three days, and the whole time I'm thinking about what I've become.
I shot my teacher and now I'm beating people bloody in juvie showers.
This is who I am now.
This is what I've turned into.
And the worst part is I'm terrified I'm never getting out, terrified this is my life now—violence and concrete and fear.
I make a promise to myself in that cell: if I ever get out, I'll never lose control like that again.
Never.
I wake up sweating, my heart pounding like I'm still in that shower.
The smell of blood and bleach is so real I can taste it. The sound of Marcus hitting the floor echoes in my ears.
I sit up and put my head in my hands, my breath coming too fast.
It's been years since I've had that dream, years since I've thought about Marcus or solitary or the promise I made.
But it's all there, just under the surface, waiting.
I get up and go to the bathroom, splash cold water on my face until my hands stop shaking.
Then I look at myself in the mirror.
I'm not that kid anymore. I've got control now. I've built a life.
But tonight, I almost lost it. I almost kissed Diesel's daughter in the hallway of the clubhouse like some asshole who can't keep his shit together.
I grab the edge of the sink and squeeze until my knuckles go white.
This stops now.
I can't let Everly get under my skin like this, can’t allow my feelings for her to escape my control.
Because if I lose control, I become that kid again—the one who solves problems with violence, the one who hurts people.
And I can't be that person.
Not again.
Not ever.
Thursday, I stay away from Trinity. I force myself to work at the clubhouse all day and I don't let myself think about where Everly is or what she's doing.
It doesn't work but I try.
Tank finds me in the garage around three. "You look like shit."
"Thanks."
"You sleep?"
"Not really."
He hands me a bottle of water. "Drink this and take a break."
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine. You've been working on that same bolt for twenty minutes."
I look down and realize he's right. I've been turning the same bolt over and over without actually tightening it.
"Fuck."
"Yeah, fuck." He leans against the workbench. "What's going on with you?"
"Nothing."
"Bullshit. You've been off all week."
I don't answer because I don't have one that won't make this worse.
Tank's quiet for a long time, then he says, "This about Everly?"
"No."
"You're lying."
"Yeah, I am."
He sighs. "You need to walk away from this, brother. Nothing good is going to come from it."
"I know."
"Then why aren't you?"
"Because I can't seem to make myself stay away."
The admission hangs there between us and I hate how true it is.
"Then you need to try harder," Tank says. "Because if Diesel finds out you're sniffing around his daughter, it's not going to end well for anyone."
"So Pyro said.”
"From where I'm standing, you're about to blow up your entire life for a girl you barely know."
He's right.
He's absolutely right.
But knowing that doesn't change the fact I can still feel Everly's wrist under my fingers, can still see the way she looked at me like she wanted me to kiss her.
"I'll handle it," I say.
"You’d better, because I'm not pulling you out of this mess."
He walks away and I go back to work. My hands are steadier now, but my mind is still racing.
I need to get my shit together.
I need to lock this down before it gets any worse.
But even as I think it, I know I'm lying to myself. It's already worse. It's been worse since the second she walked into that clubhouse.
And I don't know how to fix it.
Friday night, I'm at the clubhouse when Everly walks in. She's wearing jeans and a dark green sweater that makes her eyes look almost black.
I force myself to stay at the bar and not go to her, force myself to drink my beer and pretend I'm not tracking her every movement.
She sees me and there's a question in her eyes, something that asks what happened, why did you pull away.
I look away first because I don't have an answer.
An hour passes and I'm doing okay. I'm keeping my distance. I'm doing my job.
Then Everly gets up to leave and I'm off my stool before I think about it.
I follow her outside to the parking lot. The cold air hits like a slap.
She stops at her car and turns to face me. "You're avoiding me."
"No."
"Yes, you are. You've barely looked at me all night."
"I'm just doing my job."
"Bullshit." She steps closer and I force myself not to back up. "What happened Wednesday?"
"Nothing happened."
"We almost kissed and you ran."
"I didn't run."
"You did. Pyro called you to the chapel and you couldn't get away fast enough."
She's right and I hate it.
"It was a mistake," I say.
"What was? Almost kissing me or stopping?"
"Both."
She studies me for a long second, then she nods. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yeah, okay. You're not interested. Message received."
"That's not what I said."
"Then what are you saying, Rush? Because I'm tired of trying to figure you out."
I should tell her the truth, should tell her I'm too fucked up for this, that I'll hurt her eventually because that's what I do.
But instead, I step closer and say, "I'm saying I can't do this."
"Can't or won't?"
"Both."
"Why?"
"Because I'm not good for you."
She laughs but there's no humor in it. "That's the worst excuse I've ever heard."
"It's the truth."
"No, it's you being scared." She steps even closer, until we're inches apart. "You're terrified of wanting something so you're pushing me away before you even try."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I?" Her voice is soft but there's steel underneath. "You want me. I know you do. But you're so afraid of losing control that you won't let yourself have anything good."
The words hit like a punch because they're true.
Every single word is true.
I am terrified, I am pushing her away, I am afraid of losing control.
Because if I lose control with her I won't be able to stop, and that terrifies me more than anything else.
"You should go," I say.
"Yeah, I should." She unlocks her car, but before she gets in, she looks at me one more time. "For what it's worth, I think you're worth the risk."
Then she's gone and I'm standing in the parking lot alone, my chest tight and my hands clenched into fists.
I wanted to kiss her so badly I could taste it, wanted to pull her close and show her exactly what I'm capable of when I'm not holding back.
But I couldn't.
Because the second I stop holding back, I become the kid in juvie again, the one who breaks noses and doesn't stop until someone makes him.
And Everly deserves better than that.
She deserves someone who's not one bad day away from violence, someone who doesn't wake up in the middle of the night tasting blood.
She deserves someone who's not me.
I fucked this up.
I let her get too close and now I've hurt her by pushing her away.
But it's better this way. Better to hurt her now than hurt her worse later.
That's what I tell myself anyway.
Even if I don't believe it.