Chapter 22
22
Cassidy
A heavy arm over my stomach is the first thing I feel as I slowly wake from the best night’s sleep that I’ve had in four years.
I don’t need to open my eyes to know I’m not on the couch anymore, and I certainly don’t need to open my eyes to know Steal is asleep behind me.
I always slept best in his arms—damn traitorous body! It’s times like these I wish I didn’t sleep so deep because one peep from Moira, I’m up like a lightning bolt, yet Steal picks me up and I’m like a corpse and, I’m not stupid, I know it’s my subconscious proving I trust him despite everything. But my head won’t give in.
“I know you want to move, to scream and shout at me, but please, Trouble, just give me five minutes before you get up and chew me out…” Steal says sleepily from behind me, his warm breath on the back of my neck sending shivers down my spine as his arm tightens around me.
Even though my body is pleading with me to stay in his arms, to stay wrapped up in his warmth, I move out of his hold, making him groan, "Come on, Cassy….” But I ignore him and look around the large room.
In the four years we were together, I never came to his house. If I stayed the night, it was usually in his room at the club. I didn’t accept his cut, so I didn’t feel like it was right I stayed here, and the fact Faith was continuously in my ear about them apparently still sleeping together didn’t help, although I did ride on the back of his bike a lot, which was exhilarating every time.
My eyes take in the light gray walls. The back wall behind his bed is black, with three large white photo frames, pictures of him and me on either side, and one of me on my own at my college graduation in the middle, a picture I know Perrie took. The furniture is dark oak, and the room is neat and tidy.
It’s nice considering he’s a man and all that….
“Where’s my daughter?” I ask, not stupid, while trying to ignore the photos he has of me. I knew he had my phone, and I know he most messaged Tanner pretending to be me, and probably snooped through the device.
The itch to shoot him again hits hard, knowing he’s invaded my privacy, all because he’s decided to be a macho, alpha man ,who suddenly wants me—okay, not suddenly, I know he loves me, I know he claimed me, tattooing my name on his ring finger, something I was shocked to see—but it’s still not alright.
He made his bed, now he has to lie in it….
“ Our daughter, Trouble!” Steal snaps, and I turn to look at him with a sigh.
“Where is our daughter?” I rephrase. I haven’t got the energy to get into an argument, especially when I haven’t had a cup of coffee yet, because I’ll probably shoot him again.
He falls on his back, and I gaze down at his tatted hard-muscled chest, which, yes, makes my mouth water, but I ignore it as he admits, “In the adjoining room. She was asleep when I picked her up.”
I nod even though he’s not looking at me, then turn, seeing three door, but only one is open, and I walk into the room.
My eyes land on my sleeping daughter, her mouth wide open, her arm hanging over the side of the pink bed guard.
The room looks pretty bare. A few teddies are sitting on the floor, and pink and blue paint cans are near the wall. I swallow hard.
I always thought Steal and I would be forever. Despite putting my schooling first, I had the usual girlie dream: moving in with my love, getting married, having babies, and building a life.
While, yes, I got the baby, I didn’t move in or get married. Instead, I got the gun to the head and killed the man who assaulted me, and then I shot the man I love in the arm.
Crap, I really could have ended up killing him or, worse, shooting him between the legs, and that would have been a damn shame.
Moira sighs in her sleep and I smile a little, but it drops when an arm slowly glides around my waist, Steal’s body pressing hard against my back, and again I silently chastise my body for wanting to melt.
Gently he kisses my neck before whispering, “And the best thing right now is you won’t kick me in the balls because our extremely beautiful daughter is asleep only a few feet away, so I can get away with this for a little while because, damn, I have missed you….”
I smirk. “She’s also exactly like me and can sleep through anything, and whose fault is that?”
He hums, then kisses my neck again, causing my clit to pulse, and again I silently chastise it.
“It is my fault, and I’m taking full responsibility for that, and we both know you won’t risk waking our daughter, especially when I need you to stitch my arm. It’s hasn’t stopped bleeding since you shot me, and as much as I’d love to finally meet our daughter properly, I don’t fancy scarring her,” he whispers against my skin, and I turn round and face him in shock, my eyes wide as they lock on his arm.
Oh, God….
The bandage is weeping blood, and my heart stops before anger takes over, and I lock eyes with him, glaring.
He grins, and I sneer quietly, “It is not funny, Colt Brody!” His grin gets wider at my using his legal name, but I ignore it and continue, “It could get infected, you idiot, and then what, huh? Have your arm cut off because of sepsis?”
Shaking his head with amusement, he grips my hips and pulls me away from our sleeping daughter and back into his room, before he spins me around, making me gasp, then guides me into the middle door and, of course, there’s a girl’s dream bathroom.
A deep tub, a walk-in shower, and a black and cream double vanity, for him and her….
Damn him.
Steal goes around me as I take everything in, but then he opens a cabinet beneath the sink and turns to me, holding out a red medical kit.
He tilts his head. “Want to cause me pain and stitch me up?”
I know he wants to make me smile, I know he wants to downplay the fact he kidnapped me and our daughter but, honestly, the thought of causing him pain sounds real good right now. So, I sigh and take the kit before nodding toward the bed.
He grins, not realizing what he’s got himself in for, and does as he’s told, taking a seat in nothing but his boxers. I can’t help my eyes as they look over his body.
Okay, I should have told him to get dressed first….
Taking a deep breath, I walk over to him. He opens his legs, and yes, his member is visible in his boxers, but I ignore it and not so gently unwrap his arm.
“I thought doctors are supposed to be gentler?” he asks, humor lacing his voice as he lifts his arm a little.
I roll my eyes as I grab the gauze and disinfectant before soaking the cotton. “Funny enough, you are not the first person to ask me that….”
He grins. “Let me guess, Acid and Piston.”
I shrug as I gently clean the wound, and admit, “They are my brothers in every way except blood.”
“And what am I?” he asks, and my hand pauses as I lock eyes with him. I reply, “My ex.”
He narrows his eyes. “You know I am more than that, Trouble. We’re not exes; you know we’re meant to be….”
I finish wiping the wound and clear the blood before I chuck the gauze in the trash can near the bed, grab the needle and thread, and huff, “Yeah, until the club decides I’m not trustworthy or when Faith calls.”
“Cassidy,” he snaps, and we lock eyes again. “Faith is on the run. Bull is dead, and so are the other four brothers who were involved, plus three more who didn’t realize we had the phones tapped.”
I swallow, then look down, threading the needle.
“It doesn’t change anything, Colt,” I whisper. “Everything still happened, and you can’t change the past.”
“No, I can’t,” he admits, and I look at him again, “but I can explain it all from my point of view so you can understand why I chose to hold a gun to your head.”
I shake my head. “Again, it doesn’t matter anymore, Colt.” I sigh and pinch his skin together, and not so gently dig the needle through, making him wince, but he doesn’t say anything. “You bringing me here, bringing Moira here, won’t magically change anything. I won’t be taking your patch, I won’t be moving into your home, and neither will our daughter. If you want access, then it will be supervised. Nothing has changed, and we’ll never be together again. I’ve spent the last four years raising our daughter alone, I’ve spent the past four years putting myself first and finally moving on from my past, our past.”
As I speak, I thread the needle through his skin, refusing to look at him. I know he’s angry, no not angry, furious, I can feel it, but he has no right to act this way with me, no right to be mad.
He held a gun to my head, and while, yes, I got to shoot him in revenge, it doesn’t change the fact that he did it after dragging me out by my hair, calling me a whore and a patch chaser, when I did nothing but put him before everything in my life.
And let’s not forget the four years where I was just an afterthought for him.
He missed my dad’s death anniversaries, my graduation, heck, he chose Faith on the day I walked into my dad’s gym to find my sister giving him CPR.
I love him, I always will, but we won’t happen again; we can’t. I respect myself too much.
Steal doesn’t say anything as I stitch him up, which I’m grateful for, and once I’m done, I gently cut off the thread and grab a new bandage, covering the wound. It’s not until I go to step back that he moves.
His hands grip my hips, keeping me in place, and I sigh. “Let me go, Colt, please. I need to get dressed and wake Moira.”
“You’re not leaving,” he says adamantly, and I glare at him, but he doesn’t falter. Instead, he grips my hips tighter and claims, “I was going to do this without even finding out about Moira, Trouble. I need you in my life, and the last four years have been fucking hell without you.”
I pull back, causing him to drop his hands and I sneer, “And whose fault is that?” I point at him. “You are the one who told me to leave New York.”
He stands and gets in my space and rasps, “Because I knew Bull would shoot you without any questions asked. I know you, Cassidy, I knew you then, and I know you now.” His eyes race between mine. “For four years you refused my patch, and I’m not fucking stupid, I know the first year was because of school but the rest was because of Faith, the club,” he cups my cheek, “don’t you see, if you had accepted my cut, then you would have been put first.”
I scoff, “Oh, so it’s my fault you treated me like shit for four years? Nice, Colt!”
He winces. “That is not what I meant, and you know it…. I was taking over from my dad, and some brothers, the ones Bull and Brute enlisted, didn’t want me to take over, and despite it being my father’s club, my family’s club, they were trying to use anything against me to take over. If I didn’t attend to Faith, my position was called into question, and it’s no excuse; I should have put you first from day one, and I didn’t, but I did what I had to over the years in order to keep the club my father’s legacy, my grandfather’s.”
I shake my head as tears build. I know what the club means to him, his family, but it didn’t take much to give a little back to me, and he never did.
I whisper, “It doesn’t matter….”
“It does,” he snaps, gripping my cheek harder. “It matters because I lost you, it matters because you got hurt…. It matters because you thought Faith came before you when she didn’t; she never did….”
I shake my head. She did come first whether he wants to believe it or not.
I sniffle as a few tears fall and admit, “It doesn’t matter because you and I are done. There is no coming back from the hurt and the pain. I’ve moved on with my life, and now so should you….”
His nostrils flare, but before he can say anything, I hear a cry, and I pull out of his grip and quickly rush into the room knowing she’ll be scared waking in a new place.
When she notices me, her tears stop, and her smile brightens as she scrambles out of bed.
“Hey, sweetie,” I whisper, picking her up and holding her close.
“Mommy…” she murmurs, and I smile until she whispers, “Daddy….” And my heart breaks.
Every day, I’ve spoken about Steal to her and shown her pictures, and at this moment, I don’t know whether to be happy or sad that they’re meeting.
Slowly, I turn and see him standing in the doorway, now wearing a pair of jeans, his chest still bare, his eyes on me and his daughter.
Damn, things would be easier if he didn’t look like that….
I tilt my head at him, ignoring the way my body wants to pull toward him and ask, “You just going to stand there or are you going to come meet your daughter?”
His throat bobs before he slowly walks over to us. When near, Moira lifts her hands to him, and he eagerly takes her from my arms. His eyes shine when she wraps her little arms around his neck and places a kiss on his stubbled cheeks. He looks at me and states, “I’m not giving up. If you want me to hand in my patch, I will, but I won’t give you or her up.”
I swallow hard, about to argue, but instead, he shocks me and states, “I know you are working nights this week. Killian will escort you to work from now on, and our daughter will be here with me. She’s no longer going to that daycare, and if you want to see her during your day shifts, then I’ll bring her in for your lunch breaks, but I’m not letting you leave me, not again….”
My mouth drops open in shock as he turns and walks out of the room, whispering, “All right, my little red, would you like some pancakes with strawberries?”
I hear Moira’s squeal of delight, and all I can do is stand here, shocked, with anger making its way deep inside.
He hurt me, he broke me, and yet he thinks what he says goes.
I narrow my eyes, and vengeful plans come to mind.
“You want us here, Colt Brody, then fine, you got us…” I mumble to myself before I storm into his room and grin.
I’m about to make his life a living hell for the years he forgot I existed unless he wanted to get his dick wet. Soon, he’ll be begging me to leave….