Chapter 14 #2
I bend forward, coughing and gagging, my ravaged throat making it sound and feel so much worse.
Nothing much comes up except strings of bile and mucus.
I haven’t eaten all day. I didn’t drink enough.
It’s straight acid, putrid and foul. Sweat pours down my face, stinging my eyes as badly as my throat burns.
I’ve never felt more disgusting, especially when Fawnie bends over me, her sweet vanilla tropical scent flooding my nose.
It’s not overpowering on her the way the mash of scents was out there.
She rubs small circles on my back, taking care with me, aware that even through the layers of clothing, I’m sensitive underneath. Damaged. Raw in so many ways.
All I can do is pant and retch, try to breathe and gag as my stomach cramps and roils.
She stays behind me through it all, smoothing my back, applying her fingers—-which now feel cool—to the back of my neck.
When a few minutes pass and I haven’t tried to spew anything else up, she wets a wad of rough brown towels from the dispenser, turns me to face her, and dabs gently at my forehead.
She cleans me up, using a fresh batch of wet towels to very gently wipe my lips.
I turn into a ball the second she stands up, throwing the towels in the garbage and flushing the toilet for me.
I scoot back until I’m pressed up against the door.
I wrap my arms around my legs and bow my head to hide my burning face.
I’ve never been so mortified in my entire fucking life.
It’s a thousand times worse that Fawnie sinks down beside me and rests her head against my shoulder. She’s on the floor too. Because I am. Because I’m a disaster and a mess and she should just let it fucking go and move on. I should never have given her a choice to do otherwise.
Her hand lands on top of mine and she strokes it gently. “Oh, Finn,” she whispers, but it’s not pity or sympathy or any of that shit. Just a quiet, heartbroken understanding.
It’s just as bad.
I hate myself just the same.
“This is too much. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have basically forced you to come.
We could have done something small to start.
You were all, ‘hey, Fawnie, I’m not good with crowds and I don’t like people’, and I was all, ‘okay, great, let’s go to a packed event full of people for a few hours just straight up like that, it’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, everything will be fine’. ”
She’s not trying to make me laugh, and the snort I let out takes us both by surprise. I raise my head and force myself not to be a shitty coward and look her in the face.
“I was nervous,” I admit. “More of a hot fucking wreck, actually. I couldn’t eat anything all day.
That on top of the ride here in the heat must have given me sunstroke or something…
” Yeah right. Sunstroke. In the evening.
I let out a shuddering breath and give her more honesty than I’ve given anyone for a very long time. “I don’t want to ruin this for you.”
Her brows crash down and she looks truly horrified. “No! You don’t have to worry about that. This was supposed to be for you, although I’ll admit I didn’t think it through at all. We can go right now if you want.”
I did want that before she got here. I was set to walk out, walk out on this and humanity and society and her. Probably Preacher and the club too. Find that bus and get on it and let it take me somewhere else where I don’t have to feel anything.
Just thinking about it makes me want to die. Arriving in Hart made me feel wanted for the first time in my life.
I want to say yes. The craziest part is that I want to fuck all those plans, take her hand, set her on the back of my bike, and take us both out of here. But putting a woman on the back of a bike means something. It means that you’re claiming her, and very publicly too.
I swallow down the bitter taste in my mouth and shake my head.
She sighs softly, but it doesn’t seem to be relief.
“I’m not sure the concession sells anything other than drinks here, but I have a granola bar in my purse if you want that.
It might help. Then again, it might make it worse.
It’s mostly just sugar. I have some gum too, if you’d like.
I can get you some water and we can go sit down.
If you’re feeling sick again, we can leave.
My dad and my mom and Rita and the boys—they’ll all understand.
Dad could take your bike back for you and we could drive you. ”
Oh god, is there any worse option? Just cut my fucking balls off.
Burden meet finality.
It would be everything I’ve never wanted to be. Facing the rest of the night isn’t nearly as terrifying as the scenario she just painted.
I grind my teeth so hard that my jaw aches, and shake my head again.
Fawnie’s eyes lock onto my face. She’s so serious, worried and wounded, and still hopeful. She’s so good that she still thinks she can save me. I want to vomit again just thinking about it.
“I feel… bruised.”
“What?” she gasps. “Did you hurt yourself? When?”
“No,” I rasp. “Sorry, I- not like that. Not physically.”
I don’t have to say it. She gets it. Her soft blue eyes rake over me and she bites down on her red bottom lip.
I swallow convulsively and hold out my hand. “I think some gum would help.”
She shakes two pieces into my palm from a big plastic container. Not going to lie, the mint is a nice switch from the nasty acidic puke taste.
Fawnie stands easily, even in those spiky heels. She extends a hand and despite all my pride, I can’t help but take it. I tower over her when I’m on my feet. I have to blink, almost shocked at the realization, considering how small I just felt, hunched up like I was.
Both of her hands curl around the back of my neck and she tilts my face down to hers.
I’m terrified she’s going to try and kiss me and that I’ll die, because fucking obviously I wouldn’t live that down, but her lips graze my cheek.
They continue over my jaw, kissing all the way down my neck to the juncture of my throat.
She presses into me, her breasts mashing against my chest, her hips bumping hard against mine.
My arms wrap around her just so that we’re not thrown off balance.
She hugs me. Hard. Holds me.
I want to pretend that I have no choice in holding her back, but I’m a liar.
My arms are too tight, my nose buried in her hair.
I drink her in. I crave her warmth. I close my eyes against the brutal burn pricking at the edges, burning the back.
I think I’ve unmanned myself quite enough for one evening.
Fawnie’s so much smaller than me, slighter built, but it’s her strength that I’m leaning on.
Yes, here.
In a public bathroom.
In a building that is going to be packed, full of people, a crush of humanity that I swore I’d never rejoin. Preacher will be here, my club brother that I’m betraying by being with his daughter. I said never. I meant never.
But it’s happening anyway.
I’m a great liar, but I can’t even halfway convince myself that I don’t want to be here, or that I want all of this to vanish, or that this woman doesn’t own half my damned soul already.
I thought I was done, but it turns out, I’m just getting started.